27th Avenue Transfer Station, Christmas, 2011
Ever since a young age my trips to the city landfill have been exciting. Its a relatively short drive by modest terms from the house where I grew up, a straight shot north along 19th Avenue to Lower Buckeye and a mile west to 27th Ave. This location is roughly south Phoenix, although more particularly it occupies a larger industrial belt south of Interstate 17's dogleg, southwest of downtown Phoenix. If you were headed away from downtown along 19th Ave once crossing Lower Buckeye, the north border of the 27th Avenune landfill, you would pass along an open stretch of land about a half-mile in length on the east edge of the broad thoroughfare. This was also an active landfill up until the early eighties. In 1979, a flood of the Salt River caused multiple systemic problems to the waste site as it sits directly against the river and spans both its north and south banks. The location was identified by the EPA as a National Priority in '83 and remedial action began six years later. Coincidentally, a leech pond in Churchrock, NM also failed in '79, spreading 94 million gallons of uranium tailings waste (reports indicate it as the largest low-level nuclear release in the U.S.) I visited that site in 2008 while researching uranium mining on the Navajo Nation. It's interesting that a Superfund site was also being created by flooding, just miles from my own home. The 19th Ave Landfill site, however, was removed from that status in 2006 after its remediation was completed in 1997 and two, 5-year cycles of evaluation. Currently gas generated by the remaining debris is processed and ground water monitored for contamination.
Both locations have long-since entered into the somewhat magical history of my childhood memories of the city and its infrastructure. Today, waiting in line to unload I snapped this photo of two mirrors, perhaps salvaged from disaster; this event is generally looked down up if not discouraged altogether. The adage, "One man's trash...." could easily bring the entire operation to a stand-still. The text, not uncommon to Christmas or the predominantly Hispanic community which thrives in south Phoenix, went unnoticed until I reviewed the captured image. It's interesting that the statement is written in English given that Spanish is spoken both by the itinerant workers outside the landfill, waiting for a quick job, and the employees within the staging area running the show. The commonality of the city landfill has always attracted me although, admittedly, as a child the roving machinery and vulnerable excitement of the adventure were more apparent. Its constant hive of activities, both human and microbic, make for an interesting anthropological portrait. As a site it seems as necessary of evolution and initiative as our classrooms and bureaus.
