Indian Reservations

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without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

.

.

.

.

without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

.

.

.

without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

.

.

without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

.

without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

without significant input from the Laguna people themselves. Although the BIA must by law act in the best interest of the tribes whose land it holds in trust, the Bureau actually exposed the Lagunas to a host of health dangers.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.

The Laguna reservation used to be a quiet place. Traditions date back to the 12th century, when historians estimate the lagunas settled what we now call New Mexico. But the force of mine blasts has cracked the walls of adobe structures built hundreds of years age. A yellow could of radioactive dust bangs over the reservation, and dust has spread throughout living areas. Inattention to safety levels and elimination began with Anaconda continued when ARCO took curt the company, though the mines also brought money (the Lagunas have never disclosed how much) and improved the education level and the proportion of Indians going to college. Jackpile closed in March of this year as the uranium market worsened, but he health dangers remain.

A 1977 report on Jackpile found that the mine had rendered the nearby Paguate River unfit for human, livestock or irrigation use and that monitoring of the mine's effect on local, water supplies was nearly nonexistant. Today's the mine still releases high levels of radiation into the air and water. ARCO, which claims to have lost money on the mine, has proved extremely reluctant in negotiations with the tribe to make the closed mine safe.

For the Lagunas, income from the mine has dried up; and the chance of their being able to restart the mine for profit in the sagging uranium market is slim. Without their primary source of income. Laguna officials cannot provide service for their citizens--who, as in other Indian communities, suffer from drug and alcohol abuse and a leenage suicide rate three times the national average.

But even if the uranium market has entered a permanent decline, other resources can take its lace. Indian lands still contain 15 percent of the nation's coal and 4 percent of its oil and natural gas. Only by using the geological and environmental experience acquired so painfully in places like Jackpile can the Indians make the most of a treasure the United States never wanted them to have.