HISTORY

The Blue Coal property represented around 3% of the land in Luzerne County. With Kanjorski certain Earth Conservancy would receive the Department of Defense grant, in January 1992 the organization offered $12.5 million for the land, with a $100,000 deposit. Negotiations with Blue Coal’s attorneys, John Doran and Robert Nowalis, yielded a significant agreement: the sale would include “all of the assets and none of the liabilities.” This meant Earth Conservancy could reject undesirable parcels and avoid inheriting environmental and financial burdens, such as liens, penalties, and back payments. Earth Conservancy had until March 1993 to close, or it would forfeit its deposit. 

A draft agreement was presented in February 1992. In mid-April, a press release announced the agreement had been signed. Yet, the situation was precarious. The deal still had to be approved by the U.S. Bankruptcy Court for the Middle District of Pennsylvania, with Judge John J. Thomas presiding. Moreover, the parties were at odds regarding liability on the land. The Department of Defense grant required Earth Conservancy be indemnified against future environmental problems, However, the trustee refused to relinquish liability protections, creating an impasse. 

Adding to the uncertainty was the status of the $20 million grant. Applications weren’t due until September; an award wouldn’t be made until late fall. The open competition increased worry, as over 140 entities had expressed interest.tKanjorski: 'Direct Funding' for Earth Conservancy In the Bag, Times Leader, September 11, 1992 That Kanjorski was “far from a favorite with the [Bush] White House” added to the concern.tEarth Conservancy: There's More than Meets the Eye, Sunday Independent, July 5, 1992 Further complicating matters, the US Justice Department intervened. They argued the sale to Earth Conservancy was progressing too slowly, nor would it generate the highest return to creditors. They urged the Bankruptcy Court to compel a piecemeal liquidation of the Blue Coal assets. A hearing was scheduled for September. 

In the following months, revisions of the sales agreement shuttled between Earth Conservancy and Doran and Norwalis. Earth Conservancy began to consider acquiring the Blue Coal property in its entirety, even the undesirable tracts, to strengthen its negotiating position. At the hearing, Judge Thomas expressed his frustration with the protracted case; he strongly favored the immediate sale of the land. Yet without a formal appraisal and with the continued hope of a bulk sale to Earth Conservancy by McDonnell, Thomas postponed a final decision until November. In the meantime, he ordered Doran to provide monthly status updates on the case. 

In October, Doran reported that a sales agreement with Earth Conservancy was nearing completion. He also unveiled Kanjorski was advocating for a second $20 million appropriation, one not subject to the restrictive indemnification requirements of the original grant. However, at the November meeting, details about the second appropriation were scarce. “I think I have reason to be pessimistic about the bulk bid,” Judge Thomas replied. Another complication: early estimates for the appraisal by Resource Technologies Corporation (RTC) landed between $20 million and $30 million. Other claimants voiced concern about the $12.5 million sale price, even if the full grant came through. The amount would fail to recover any monies for unsecured creditors. Thomas emphasized his desire to finalize everything for the November 16th hearing, as afterward, he said, “I want to hit the ground” and to begin liquidation immediately. 

But at the hearing, neither the land appraisal nor the liquidation plan was complete. The lead appraiser, Jeffrey Kern, disclosed he was never notified the materials were due. Additionally, he explained the difficulty encountered in reconciling the Blue Coal acreage with county maps. Property boundaries didn’t match, and many parcels had not been properly recorded. Already an additional 900 acres had been unearthed. Kern said it was unlikely the appraisal would be for less than $20 million. This assertion presented a significant challenge for Earth Conservancy’s $12.5 million bid, especially in light of the creditors’ objections. Even Doran, facing the higher valuation, conceded it would be difficult to approve the original sale price. 

But the question was raised if the RTC figure was reasonable. During testimony, a prior offer by businessman Louis DeNaples surfaced. Initially, DeNaples offered a mere $9 million for the Blue Coal acreage. Eventually, he raised it to $11 million. Doran believed they should ask for $12 million and favored the offer, knowing DeNaples’ funding was secure. The point was made DeNaples had purchased thousands of acres of abandoned mine lands in Lackawanna County; arguably, if anyone, he was the most familiar with the value of such properties. 

Introducing uncertainty regarding the appraisal was only one tack in undermining a piecemeal sale. Congressman Kanjorski took the stand, offering a range of reasons as to why a bulk deal with Earth Conservancy was preferable, chief among them the apparent disagreement between the trustee and his counsel. Kanjorski recollected approaching McDonnell about the Earth Conservancy project at the inauguration of Governor Casey in January 1987. Despite subsequent conversations, no progress was made. He criticized Doran, expressing astonishment that even now the amount of land, its value, and the total number of debts was still unknown. 

Item by item, Kanjorski then addressed the concerns raised. The original sales agreement, he explained, had been revised; now Earth Conservancy would purchase all the land, no matter the damage. Regarding the indemnification clause, he believed it could be modified by the Secretary of Defense. Major claims would be satisfied, and he firmly believed some waivers could be negotiated. And although the money was still unsecured, he remained confident. Both Bill Clinton and Al Gore had spoken in favor of Earth Conservancy during local campaign stops. In fact, many in the federal government were intrigued by the Earth Conservancy project and additional lines of funding were in the works. The Defense Department needed proven technology to clean up environmentally damaged lands. There was also a desire to produce products domestically. Kanjorski contrasted these aims against buyers who allegedly wanted the property for landfills. Only by cleaning up and properly developing the land, he believed, could genuine progress for the region occur. But to succeed, the land had to be purchased in its entirety. Even selling small pieces could significantly affect the project, potentially limiting land use or hindering project designs. Moreover, Kanjorski believed the liquidation timeline of three to five years was overly optimistic. With litigation, it could easily become two decades.

At the end of his testimony, Congressman Kanjorski appealed to all the parties present. Acknowledging everyone’s frustration and the toll of the day, he asked, “Maybe we ought to take an hour after the Court adjourns and just sit here and honestly sit down and say what the problem is.” He continued, “We have a great project with funds to buy it. [….] I would like to be of use of any good offices I have to put what I think are good people together at a good cause, but to get something complete and done.” In agreement, everyone adjourned to the jury room. The next hearing was scheduled for January 11, 1993.

While it seemed discussions from the afterhours meeting were productive, the situation took a turn in early December. A letter had come in from RTC, setting the land’s appraisal at $24.7 million. The Department of Justice filed a motion requiring Earth Conservancy to submit documentation justifying its intervenor status. This, along with other concerns, ignited intense debate at Earth Conservancy’s December board meeting. Members were frustrated with the time and resources already put into negotiations. The Justice Department’s new request would only create further demands. Moreover, there was the potential loss of Earth Conservancy’s original deposit. By the meeting’s end, the board made a decisive move. They would retract their offer and seek out alternatives to acquire the property. Undoubtedly, the decision conflicted with Kanjorski’s vision, and a flurry of conversations followed. A special meeting of the board was called for December 22, 1992. There, the group reconsidered its “tactical withdrawal,” weighing it against a more aggressive approach to finish the deal. In the end, the board reached a unanimous decision: “stay the course.” 

At the January hearing, Judge Thomas approved the $24.7 million appraisal and instructed Doran to start selling the land. He warned McDonnell, the trustee for Blue Coal, that progress must be made; otherwise, he might be removed. Although Thomas’s ruling did not explicitly prohibit a bulk sale, for Earth Conservancy, it mattered little. Neither the grant nor the appropriation had been announced, Earth Conservancy had been removed as an intervenor, and, according to Doran, negotiations were officially off. Doran had pressed Earth Conservancy for a higher bid, but the organization remained firm at $12.5 million.

At the end of March, however, there was a dramatic turnaround. Word arrived the Department of Defense had approved the $20 million direct appropriation. $14 million was available immediately to acquire the Blue Coal land. The remaining $6 million for research would be released later in the year. By mid-April, Earth Conservancy submitted a formal offer, this time monetizing the value of certain items, like administrative costs, and outlining its plan to secure waivers for many of the claims, thereby enhancing its bid.

Coincidentally, on the same day of Earth Conservancy’s announcement, Doran informed the court the trustee was ready to proceed with several land sales, totaling about 230 acres. This time, the Anthracite Health & Welfare Fund (AHWF) objected. As no marketing had been done, the sales prices were questioned, especially as higher bids had come in. More importantly, AHWF now supported the bulk sale to Earth Conservancy, expressing concern that any land sales could undermine the deal. Attorney Charles Shea emphasized the importance of the opportunity, stating, “This is the first time in 17 years there has been a prospective purchaser.”tBlue Coal, Earth Conservancy 'Have a Difference of Opinion', Citizens' Voice, May 4, 1993

Negotiations continued between Blue Coal and Earth Conservancy. Finally, on June 16, 1993, a sales agreement was filed with the Bankruptcy Court. The new deal required $12.6 million in cash at closing, with another $2 million held in escrow. Once again, objections followed. The Department of Justice contended the purchase price was “grossly inadequate.”tOppostition Mounts to Sale of Blue Coal Land, Citizens' Voice, July 21, 1993 Unsecured creditors, such as the State of New York, claimed they would receive “little to no money.” Additionally, nineteen individual landowners filed formal complaints, expressing their dissatisfaction with the terms of the sale.

In early August, another hearing was held to formally hear objections. This time, they included a request for Judge Thomas to recuse himself. When in private practice, he had represented the Greater Nanticoke Area School District; as the district was a claimant, the motion alleged a conflict of interest. Following presentations by the creditors, McDonnell took the stand. Under cross-examination, McDonnell admitted he and Doran were at odds over the sale to Earth Conservancy. Doran believed a piecemeal sale would generate more revenue. McDonnell, however, favored securing the money now; future economic conditions were unknown. McDonnell also revealed a “personality conflict” between Doran and Kanjorski, and Doran’s disfavor towards the chair of Earth Conservancy’s board, Chris Breiseth. In fact, McDonnell reported, Doran had supported a bulk sale until Kanjorski became involved.tBehind-scenes Dispute Clouds Blue Coal, Times Leader, August 11, 1993

On the fifth day of testimony, RTC’s Kern took the stand, reiterating his $24.7 million appraisal. McDonnell then said he also wanted Albert Tesh, an appraiser hired by Earth Conservancy, to testify. During Tesh’s deposition, he had valued the Blue Coal estate at only $5.9 million. Piecemeal liquidation, he estimated, would take a decade or more. Doran, however, refused to call Tesh. With the trustee and his counsel in conflict, Shea remarked, “In fairness to the trustee, I can’t ask the court to continue,” pointing out that McDonnell no longer had effective counsel. Harry Giacometti, attorney for the Justice Department, took a different approach, calling for McDonnell to be removed. And McDonnell, in turn, asked that Judge Thomas recuse himself, citing his long-standing friendship with Doran. Judge Thomas responded it was time “for the attorney to withdraw or the trustee to discharge him.”tBlue Coal Trustee, His Lawyer in Public Split, Citizens' Voice, August 12, 1993 Resignedly, he added, “I have no choice but to open up a new chapter in this case.”tLawyers' Fight Halts Blue Coal Hearing, Times Leader, August 12, 1993 Parties were given 15 days to file their complaints. Hearings would resume in January 1994.

Following the August 1993 hearing, Doran and Norwalis were discharged from the case. The trustee’s new counsel – William H. Schorling – had been approved in November. Schorling requested a new, independent appraisal of the Blue Coal property and, despite objections, Judge Thomas agreed. The appraisal testimony kicked off the January hearing, starting with Kern revising his assessment, now pegging it at $19.3 million. John Wilks, an evaluator with New York City-based accounting firm Arthur Andersen & Co., then offered his opinion, testifying he believed Earth Conservancy’s offer fair. Arnold Tesh, Earth Conservancy’s consultant from Washington DC, validated Wilks’s appraisal, stating in his opinion the $14.6 million offer exceeded fair market value. 

On the final day of testimony, John Doran reappeared. In December, he and Norwalis had filed their own objection to the Blue Coal sale, alleging there had been efforts to silence and influence their and other lawyers’ work. Their petition specifically pointed to Kanjorski’s testimony in November, where he stated that if the sale to Earth Conservancy failed, as a U.S. official, he would be required to pursue an audit of the land through the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Judge Thomas denied Doran’s motion, which had sought to call a dozen witnesses, including the congressman. Nonetheless, Doran still took the stand; the State of New York called him to testify. Doran reiterated the inadequacy of the Earth Conservancy bid and warned that unsecured creditors would go unpaid. He also testified about a phone call he had received from the EPA in December, “asking about environmental problems on the Blue Coal land.”tKanjorski's Pull Manipulated Blue Coal Offer, Lawyer Says, Times Leader, January 28, 1994 In the end, Thomas held the accusations as hearsay. He also called Doran and Norwalis “hypocritical,” noting previously they had supported the $14.6 million bid. 

On June 9, the US Department of Justice informed Judge Thomas they were nearing an agreement with both Blue Coal and Earth Conservancy. The following day, June 10, 1994, Judge Thomas approved the sale in a lengthy, 42-page decision. Ten days were granted to file objections. Ten days later, near the close of business, the PA Department of Environmental Resources (DER) filed to delay the sale. They also sought to clarify their enforcement powers after the sale closed. Again, the clock stopped. Another hearing was scheduled. 

Initial arguments were heard on June 24th, with Earth Conservancy alleging someone had been circulating rumors to undermine the sale. One appeal was made directly to the Department of Defense to freeze Earth Conservancy’s funding. Another report suggested Earth Conservancy had no funding at all. Worsening the situation, local newspapers revealed that Earth Conservancy had sought a $2 million letter of credit from Luzerne County. The organization was struggling to secure a line of credit from a bank: It had no dependable source of revenue, and its only collateral was the environmentally damaged land. 

The parties reconvened on July 11, 1994. After hours of legal wrangling, an amended agreement of sale was approved. The closing was scheduled for 30 days later. Yet the $2 million line of credit remained a challenge. No bank had stepped forward, and the county commissioners refused to assist. At Earth Conservancy’s July board meeting, Susan Shoval presented an alternative: seek community sponsors. Based on her outside conversations, she believed the $2 million could be raised. Harold Snowdon and Mike Dziak, Earth Conservancy’s new president/CEO, led the effort to obtain interest-free letters of credit from area individuals. The caveat: The loans might never be repaid. 

These ongoing challenges attracted significant media attention, including a front-page New York Times exposé on pork-barrel politics. Kanjorski and the Earth Conservancy project were offered as an exemplar of the issue. The story added fuel to accusations of cronyism, secrecy, and deception. It also raised flags with the Department of Defense, prompting a formal review of the project; and provided ammunition for Doran and Norwalis, who issued subpoenas for documents they believed would prove Earth Conservancy’s funding was at risk. However, Judge Thomas quashed the subpoenas. The point was further silenced when Kanjorski produced a letter from the Department of Defense confirming the review was completed and the $20 million award secure. 

Finally, on August 18, 1994, the parties met in the offices of Rosenn, Jenkins & Greewald, the law firm now representing Earth Conservancy. The entire day was spent signing papers, including the letter of credit, which was provided by two local banks. A $417,000 loan from the City of Wilkes-Barre plus another $1 million raised from private sources had served as collateral. The deed was filed with the Recorder of Deeds on Friday, August 19, 1994. 

“It’s hard to do big things here,” remarked Steve Barrouk, an early board member of Earth Conservancy and president/CEO of the Greater Wilkes-Barre Chamber of Business & Industry. His observation reveals a key challenge in the Wyoming Valley: a population deeply suspicious of and resistant to change, particularly when it comes from those in power. The anthracite industry, without doubt, helped shape this mindset. On one hand was the behind-the-scenes collusion among coal barons, politicians, and government officials, who promised prosperity to the community, but often only enriched themselves. On the other hand, coal companies deliberately sowed distrust among workers. Ethnicity, language, and religion were exploited not only to alienate workers from one another, but also to distract them from challenging authority. Self-segregation within the company patch towns reinforced the divisions. Moreover, the coal companies exerted near-total control over miners’ lives. Miners leased their land or homes from the company. Mining tools and daily provisions were bought at the company store. Even the doctor was company-employed; treatment for injuries on the job was charged against a miner’s earnings. And even then, the remaining wages might not be paid in cash. Frequently scrip – tokens redeemable only at company outlets – was disbursed, trapping miners in a cycle of dependency. Over the decades, labor activism improved many of these conditions, prompting child labor laws, increased wages, and expanded safety regulations. But often, progress came only in the wake of tragedy, as with the Knox Mine disaster. A deep-seated public cynicism toward those in power was the result.

Locally, the Glen Alden Corporation – and later its successor, Blue Coal – played the leading role in this story. Even as the coal industry declined, Blue Coal publicly insisted on its strength. Yet this clashed with reality: reports highlighted delinquent taxes, unpaid royalties, labor disputes, and numerous environmental violations. The pretense persisted when the Great American Coal Company acquired Blue Coal. The new leadership boasted of anthracite’s supremacy, claiming their investments would bring increased production and government support. But by the late 1970s, little had improved. In addition to the previous problems, more fingers were pointing, indictments were being levelled, and questionable characters started entering the fray. To no one’s surprise, only modest penalties were imposed. Blue Coal’s collapse exemplified all the things of which the public had grown contemptuous. Worse still, it left residents and municipalities shouldering the heavy environmental and economic burdens.

The press covered every twist and turn of the Blue Coal saga, with the Pottsville Republican winning a Pulitzer Prize in journalism for its investigative reporting in 1979. The 1992 leak about Earth Conservancy shifted the story in an entirely new direction. It was a bold, cutting-edge vision, featuring water jets, high-tech research centers, and a vast amount of land. Editorial cartoons likened Kanjorski’s ideas to science fiction, one picturing the congressman in outer space sporting Vulcan ears.tKanjorski-Trek. Majeski, J. (Editorial Cartoon.) Times Leader, January 19, 1992. Paul Golias, then managing editor of the Citizens’ Voice, recalls a positive atmosphere. “The concept looked good,” he said, and the caliber of the people involved – Breiseth, Lackenmier, and others – added credibility. As Golias wrote in a lead-up editorial, “This really could be big…really big.”tPeople Up Front: Possibilities. Citizens’ Voice, January 11, 1992.

Despite his optimism, Golias was also cautionary. “I fear our excitement may be tempered by reality,” he wrote. There were valid questions about funding sources and political “smoke.” Dale Duncan, president of the Times Leader, further expanded this point:

“Predictably, [the plan] has already attracted skepticism and detractors…. You know what I mean. Walk into any bull session and everyone is trying to assign ulterior motives to the congressman or speculating who is going to get rich off this deal. Such backstabbing negativism is a Wyoming Valley pastime.”tCommentary: Let’s All Support Kanjorski. Times Leader, January 19, 1992.

Yet like Golias, Duncan urged readers to allow time for the initiative to unfold, assuring them, “I know we can count on our newspeople to pursue those unanswered questions and help us determine the legitimacy of the effort about to be undertaken.”

Claire Schechter was one of those reporters. A former Associate Managing Editor of the Citizens’ Voice, she was working for the Times Leader during the beginning of Earth Conservancy. Reflecting on her role, she emphasized her primary duty was to inform. It would begin with a tip or a press release. However, to craft a real story, she had to dig deeper. Was the lead legitimate? More importantly, was it something the public would want to know? Then came the process of tracking down sources, getting them on the record, and finding corroboration. As Golias noted, journalists are “honor-bound” to this work. Only then could a story go to print. Schechter emphasized her goal for each article was two-fold: to make the information understandable to readers, and to clearly convey its potential impact on people’s lives.

Schechter recalls the announcement of Earth Conservancy as “mind-boggling.” A massive amount of information dropped on the community all at once, involving the US Department of Defense, large sums of money, and seemingly far-fetched technological initiatives. Moreover, as Golias noted, “Whoever got the land would have a big say in what would happen in the county.” But the details were unclear. One article described the plan as “ambiguous,” while Luzerne County Commissioner Rose Tucker complained the information she received was “sketchy and vague.”tBlue Coal Land Seen as Environmental ‘Laboratory’ for High-Industries. Citizens’ Voice, January 15, 1992.tKanjorski: Embrace Vision of Our Future. Citizens’ Voice, January 15, 1992.

Despite the informational gaps, Kanjorski asked the press to “shine a favorable light upon the plan.”tCabbage Patch: We Respectfully Decline. Citizens’ Voice, January 17, 1992. Public acceptance was paramount. But for reporters – “for those of us who derive our means by raising questions,” as Mike McGlynn, political writer for the Citizens’ Voice, put it – this was an unreasonable request. While he wanted to give Kanjorski the benefit of the doubt, he likened the initial press conference to a “Cinerama production,” the ambiguity prompting “the hairs on the back of a reporter’s neck stand on end.” “The media,” he insisted, “should not be asked to swallow what we cannot see, smell or taste.”

Within a month, questions mounted. Earth Conservancy announced its board meetings would be closed to the press and the public. This prompted criticism from those who believed that, as a federally-funded initiative, its plans, operations, and finances should be open for public review. Legally, however, its status as a private nonprofit meant it was not required to offer full transparency. The situation deteriorated further as funding failed to materialize, and bankruptcy proceedings dragged on. Media attention grew, with near-daily coverage. By year’s end, the Standard Independent ranked Earth Conservancy third in its “Top 10 Local Stories for 1992.” . Standard Independent, January 3, 1993″]t”Top

There was a circularity to the situation. The lack of available information fueled rumors, often accusing those involved of underhanded dealings or warning against dangerous uses of the land. The rumors, in turn, would lead to new problems, weakening municipal and financial support and undermining activities. And even when explanations were offered, misinterpretations and disbelief persisted. In response, Earth Conservancy would again retreat behind closed doors, perpetuating the cycle.

Occasionally, Kanjorski would respond. Sometimes, he penned letters to the editor, elaborating on the complexities of the situation and entreating readers to share in his vision. Other times, when the clamor grew, he held meetings, interviews, or press conferences. One such event took place in mid-December 1992 at the Luzerne County Courthouse. Dozens of officials attended, with Kanjorski outlining the Earth Conservancy project, detailing its benefits, and urging their support. He also offered several apologies for his lack of communication, blaming the stalled land sale as the cause. The press reported that, generally, the response from attendees was favorable. Several municipalities even prepared formal resolutions backing Earth Conservancy’s court claim. Still, criticism remained. One editorial noted some officials were becoming “increasingly hostile.”tBlue Coal Case Has One Real Issue: Control the Land. Citizens’ Voice, December 16, 1992.

The Times Leader observed Kanjorski seemed surprised by the backlash.tKanjorski Must Open Up about Earth Conservancy. Times Leader, December 19, 1992. In an open letter to the congressman, the paper speculated that much of the resistance stemmed from the initiative seeming too good to be true. “But no one knows for sure,” the editorial continued. “No one, in fact, even has enough information with which to make an educated guess. We only have your word.” The paper advised Kanjorski to open the Conservancy’s meetings, grant more authority to elected officials (“your ‘citizens advisory board’ doesn’t cut it,” they wrote), and bring in outside experts to verify Earth Conservancy’s plan was feasible. “Your own enthusiasm for the project is enticing,” they concluded, “But it’s not enough.”

Over the next two years, reporting and commentary continued, especially as the bankruptcy case dragged on. Two major public meetings were held during this time: one hosted by the League of Women Voters at Wilkes University in August 1993; and another at King’s College in June 1994. While there was some support, the criticisms of secrecy, elitism, and perceived flaws in the plan’s goals and strategy persisted. In pursuit of transparency, the media filed Freedom of Information Act requests twice: once to obtain Earth Conservancy’s original application for funding from the Department of Defense, and again in 1994 for additional documents related to the organization.

Around this time, media coverage spiked. The court had approved the sale of the Blue Coal land, and Mike Dziak had been hired as President/CEO. But more dramatically, the FBI had launched a probe into Kanjorski’s role in the bankruptcy case, investigating allegations of intimidation. Further complicating matters were newly raised complaints about Kanjorski’s Regional Equipment Center. Then, in July 1994, Earth Conservancy was suddenly thrust into the national spotlight. On July 13, the New York Times published a front-page story on pork-barrel politics, featuring Congressman Kanjorski and the Conservancy. Pork-barrel spending – the earmarking of federal funds for local projects – was increasingly being criticized as wasteful and politically self-serving. The article was reprinted in papers across the Commonwealth. Nationwide, readers contacted their elected officials, wondering why their own communities weren’t receiving similar funding.

Both Dziak and Kanjorski responded. Dziak wrote a rebuttal letter to the New York Times, calling the story reductive, though it went unpublished. Kanjorski was more vocal, denouncing the piece in articles and on talk radio. The situation grew even more tense on July 19, 1994, when former attorneys for the Blue Coal estate, John Doran and Robert Nowalis, claimed the entire project had been scrapped. They issued a subpoena demanding Earth Conservancy produce a letter from the Department of Defense, dated June 13, to support their claim. Kanjorski, however, maintained there was a misunderstanding. Within hours of receiving the letter, he said, he spoke with President Bill Clinton and Secretary of Defense William Perry. Now, Kanjorski insisted, the Department of Defense was merely conducting a project review.

At this point, editorials, while continuing to support the idea of Earth Conservancy, blasted the congressman and the Conservancy for their secretiveness. “EC Gets Bumps because People Are in the Dark – Too Many Surprises, Too Much Unsaid,” read one headline. Scranton’s Times Tribune weighed in, dubbing the group the “Secrecy Conservancy.”tThe Secrecy Conservancy. Times-Tribune, July 16, 1994. Columnist Carol Crane tied the deepening distrust and demands for transparency directly to the exploitation the anthracite region had faced in the past. “There should be no doubt why there are skeptics,” she wrote.tThe County Line: The Skeptics Among Us. Citizens’ Voice, July 10, 1994.

From within, Earth Conservancy’s reticence was understandable. Explanations citing the need for privacy regarding legal and personal matters were valid. Moreover, the project was groundbreaking. So much was unknown, and with neither land nor funding secured, it was difficult to provide definitive plans. But from the moment of the initial press conference, Earth Conservancy was in the public domain. It was a highly visible endeavor, one that would affect the Wyoming Valley in profound ways. The media, tasked with informing the community, had an imperative to share what it knew. Yet there was no glimpse as to what was going on behind the scenes. The scarce details, coupled with the tangled relationships, dramatic twists, and multiple delays created a breeding ground for supposition and rumor. Consequently, every question asked, every doubt relayed, every criticism published – no matter how legitimate – added to readers’ distrust. As Mike Dziak stated, “Once the perception is there and the newspaper kept hitting it – a killer.”

Other than Earth Conservancy’s original announcement, this period may have been the height of media attention to the organization. On July 25, 1994, a live, televised forum was held. Broadcast on WVIA-TV’s State of Pennsylvania, the show featured Kanjorski, Dziak, and the Reverend Lackenmier. A panel of journalists – Dale Duncan from the Times Leader, Paul Golias from the Citizens’ Voice, Pat McKenna from the Scranton Times, and Larry Stirewalt form WBRE-TV – posed questions. The public was also invited to call in.

WVIA’s president/CEO, Bill Kelly, served as moderator. He began by quoting some of the more inflammatory statements each outlet had made about the organization, then invited Kanjorski to explain Earth Conservancy and its goals. Kanjorski opened by producing a letter from the Department of Defense confirming the Earth Conservancy funding was still intact. Kelly then turned questioning over to what he termed the “adversarial press.” The inquiries were sharp. Earth Conservancy’s answers were mostly forthright and detailed. Topics covered land use, timelines, and job creation. The panel pressed about board members, the Regional Equipment Center, and financial accountability. Kanjorski would speak about potential; but he and Dziak both cautioned that much was still unknown. Since the Conservancy had been barred from accessing the property during the court case, he explained, the group had functioned in concept only. Now, however, they could move into operation. “I can’t predict what this means in the final result,” he said. “But if we just succeed in freeing this land from bankruptcy, and get it out to the public, and get it into use, I’ll feel that the first phase was successful.” With the second phase just underway, he admitted more challenges were to come, even conceding some of his hopes might go unfulfilled. “But,” he asserted, “We’ll try.” The show ran thirty minutes past its scheduled time.

The next day, the media’s response was generally positive. One editorial allowed it was “cautiously optimistic” following the broadcast.tStraight Answers Show Conservancy Has a Solid Base. Citizens’ Voice, July 26, 1994. Completion of the land purchase in August further boosted confidence. That’s not to say questions about finances, projects, and board representation disappeared. Details were still lacking, and rumors were “rampant.”tRumors Rampant about Fate of Blue Coal Land. Citizens’ Voice, September 4, 1994. And many commentators – and readers – remained completely unconvinced. As one headline pronounced, “EC’s True Work, Helping Its Area, Must Begin Now.”tEC’s True Work, Helping Its Area, Must Begin Now. Citizens’ Voice, August 21, 1994. The press made clear that after so many years of lofty promises, concrete action had to occur, and it had to occur with openness and honesty.

The turmoil surrounding Earth Conservancy continued to ebb as the months passed. Another of Kanjorski’s proposals – an inflatable dam on the Susquehanna River – began garnering more coverage. Meanwhile, Dziak took a more active public role. In mid-September, he began attending municipal meetings, discussing Earth Conservancy’s plans, and fielding questions from officials and residents. He also was the guest speaker at several social club events. Starting in December, small parcels of land were being made available for public purchase. The largest shift came in January 1995, when the Land Use Planning Committee voted to open its meetings to the public.

Of course, the press still exercised caution. But as Earth Conservancy continued to accomplish tasks and articulate its mission, journalists now had tangible results to measure against early promises. This stood in contrast to the national media, which focused mostly on pork barrel politics. These reports portrayed Earth Conservancy as nothing more than a taxpayer-funded real estate project, with tenuous ties to national defense, cloaked in charitable language. The articles raised eyebrows, including those of US Senator Rick Santorum of the Armed Services Committee. But for the local press, the response was restrained. In the papers, the criticism only garnered a couple of snippets and a single article, which noted, “The magazine breaks no new ground.”tKanjorski Takes Reader’s Digest Hit. Times Leader, October 10, 1994. NBC News had even considered doing a segment on the Conservancy. However, a producer abandoned the idea after interviewing Dziak, seeing it as exploitative.

Still, according to the Times Leader, “Kanjorski blamed Santorum’s skepticism on a biased media bent on harming the conservancy [sic].”tSantorum Questions Conservancy. Times Leader, June 15, 1995. In an August 1995 interview with the paper’s editorial board, Kanjorski continued to grouse. The press, he believed, had undermined Earth Conservancy. “[It] is not going to be as successful as it would have been because of the negative articles,” he said.tKanjorski: Projects Being Hurt. Times Leader, August 23, 1995.

Inside the Earth Conservancy, however, the sentiment was different. At the November 1995 board meeting, Liz Ortega, Director of Public Affairs, reported her relationship with the media was improving. Discussions had even begun about collaborating on outreach to increase public understanding of the Conservancy’s plans. At the December meeting, Breiseth reiterated the improving relationship, describing the shift as “a major turnaround for Earth Conservancy and the entire area.” The key, Paul Golias recalled, was that Earth Conservancy was doing positive things. In addition to the small land sales and municipal meetings, back taxes were being paid. Moreover, reclamation and wetlands projects had started, and Earth Conservancy enrolled thousands of acres in the PA Game Commission’s Hunter Access Program, opening them for public use.

Despite the headway, the media continued to push for Earth Conservancy to open its board meetings. In fact, internally, discussions about such a move had been ongoing. In August 1996, the Conservancy announced the September meeting would be open. “We’re doing a lot of things we want the public to know about,” Dziak stated.tOnce Secret Conservancy Opens Meetings. Times Leader, August 8, 1996. The press welcomed the move, though some noted the 8:00am start time was inconvenient for many. Still, the tone had softened. The strongest criticism now came not from reporters, but from individuals, some quoted in articles, other through letters to the editor.

For certain residents, a particular project was at issue. For example, Carl Olshefski, a resident of Askam, repeatedly wrote against the development of Earth Conservancy’s Parcel 10 in Hanover Township, calling it a “rare piece of Wyoming Valley wilderness.”tMake ’Big Bend Park’ out of EC Parcel 10. Citizens’ Voice, January 7, 1998. In another letter, he invoked the region‘s long history of abuse dating back to the era of King Coal.  Earth Conservancy, he asserted, “portrays itself as the saving grace for our area…. In reality, they are continuing this legacy of exploitation.”tSpeak Out on the Earth Conservancy. Citizens’ Voice, February 12, 1998. Though not always stated so directly, this sentiment likely underpinned broader criticism of Earth Conservancy. The name itself became a catchall symbol of persistent regional dysfunction, corruption, and deceit, with the organization’s tangled history, powerful players, and speculative plans feeding public skepticism. With so little information shared, it was easy to imagine backroom dealings that would only result in personal gain. And when residents’ concerns were ignored or deflected, they felt snubbed, convinced they would receive few, if any, benefits.

For politicians, denouncing Earth Conservancy served a dual purpose, allowing them to condemn big government and political insiders, while also express opposition to large-scale change. Labelling the initiative as pork barrel spending added to the criticism, positioning the Conservancy as a prime example of government mismanagement and waste. Many municipal officials echoed these concerns. Tension remained from having been shut out of initial plans and excluded from the board. Like local residents, there was also fear of losing their authority and independence. This surfaced most clearly when zoning or funding requests were denied, often without clear explanation. Earth Conservancy was advocating regionalization. To its detractors, as stated in one letter to the editor, the effort was “Orwellian.”tYour Voice: Speak Out on the Earth Conservancy. February 12, 1998.

In 1995, the Times Leader introduced its “SAYSO” column. Comprising messages left on an answering machine, it offered a more immediate way for readers to react to recent news. However, freed from the effort of writing letters, contributors now could simply respond with snap judgements, broadly-brushed digs, or complete speculation. On occasion, the paper would add a note to clarify or correct a point. But for Dziak, that didn’t suffice. Responding to one SAYSO comment in a lengthy letter to the editor, he wrote, “I have deliberately chosen not to respond via the SAYSO column, since I find it the worst example of responsible journalism to be found today.” He continued, “Allowing your readers to make anonymous, unsubstantiated claims and accusations, as well as primarily detrimental comments, simply promulgates the negativity that pervades our region. If the Times Leader wants to help change the self-image of Northeastern Pennsylvania, as your editorial page has implied numerous times, the SAYSO column is not helping.”tEarth Conservancy Clarifies for Caller Its Role in Local Land Development. Times Leader, August 9, 1997.

In many ways, the WVIA program in July 1994 proved a turning point for the relationship between Earth Conservancy and the media. Many details and explanations were provided, and Kanjorski acknowledged, in retrospect, he and the organization could have handled communications better. Dziak added that, now that he had taken the helm, communication was one of his highest priorities. He invited reporters to call him directly when questions arose. Duncan, however, cautioned that this might not be enough: “[T]he best PR that you have is the congressman.” Kanjorski, he explained, had a singular ability to translate his vision for Earth Conservancy into something people could understand and, with his duties in Washington, would not always be available. Duncan warned Dziak, “the public is going to be asking questions about every nickel you spend and be on the phone to [all our newsrooms], saying ‘Did you hear what they did today?’” Golias agreed, noting that going forward, openness would be essential.” “Communications,” he added, “is always a beneficial thing.”

Interestingly, when the land use plan and board meetings were opened to the public and the press, attendance dwindled after the first few sessions. In fact, over time, as positive things were happening, Dziak contacted WVIA to propose a follow-up panel. He recalled Kelly declining the offer, saying, “You’re not newsworthy anymore.” Meanwhile, Kanjorski, while still a strong supporter of the organization, shifted his attention to other projects. It was a quiet turning point, but one that represented its own kind of progress. In a region where power had so often served itself at the public’s expense, suspicion and skepticism were deeply ingrained. That impulse had not vanished. Yet Earth Conservancy acknowledged the mistrust, persisted through it, and gradually began to deliver – laying a foundation on which legitimacy and trust could be built.

Of the $20 million appropriation to Earth Conservancy from the US Department of Defense, $14 million was earmarked to purchase the land and to set up an office space. The other $6 million was allocated to the Advanced Research Center at Wilkes University and its associated programs. Any other projects planned by Earth Conservancy would need separate funding. The Land Development Project, which aimed to “help plan and develop the land held by Earth Conservancy in the best long-term interests of the people of Northeastern Pennsylvania,” was one of those initiatives. Throughout the bankruptcy proceedings, the Earth Conservancy team referenced the project to prevent a piecemeal sale. As the exact footprint and condition of the Blue Coal lands were unknown, Earth Conservancy was uncertain as to which parcels would prove essential to its plans. A comprehensive analysis was needed.

Thus, in September 1994, after the land sale was completed, Earth Conservancy launched the Land Development Project. Two things happened concurrently: 1.) drafting a request for qualifications (RFQ) for a project consultant; and 2.) seeking funding to cover the estimated $625,000 project cost. Grant opportunities were pursued through the US Economic Development Agency (EDA), the Appalachian Regional Commission (ARC), and Luzerne County’s Department of Community Development. Earth Conservancy planned to contribute primarily through in-kind services. Surprisingly, however, the cash wasn’t the greatest concern for those involved. As Edward Schechter, the planning committee’s chair, observed, the most important element of the project was to “sell the plan to the community. The acceptance by the community is crucial to the true success of this plan.”

Schechter, hailing from New York City, came to Luzerne County in 1953. He quickly became a prominent figure in the area, known for successfully founding and leading several businesses and organizations. He had a reputation for his outstanding organizational skills, ability to build consensus, and deep sense of civic responsibility. At the first meeting of the Land Use Planning Committee, it was questioned why he was chosen as chair. Mike Dziak, Earth Conservancy’s president and CEO, reported that the board, following its by-laws, made the appointment. Schechter went a step further, elaborating on his educational, business, and community service background. A motion was made, seconded, and, without further discussion, unanimously approved for Schechter to chair the committee.

The planning committee started with 23 members, eventually growing to 38. They represented a range of perspectives, including the county and municipal governments; elected officials; and the planning, academic, infrastructure, environmental, and business sectors. In addition to their role on the main committee, individuals also contributed to specialized working groups, focusing on areas like consultant selection, transportation, or the environment. Although some board members of Earth Conservancy served on the committee, Schechter made it clear that the committee would function independently from the board. This autonomy was crucial. It valued the members’ expertise and experiences, encouraged diverse opinions, and underscored their vital role in tackling the monumental task ahead.

The inaugural meeting of the Land Use Planning Committee took place on January 12, 1995. After approving Schechter’s role, the next order of business was deciding whether meetings should be open to the public. Ever since Kanjorski’s press conference in January 1992, Earth Conservancy had been dogged by accusations of concealment and cronyism. Keeping these meetings closed – even with “very respected and trusted people” involved and a Citizens’ Advisory Committee in the works – deepened criticism.tConservancy Could Learn from County on Openness. Times Leader, December 23, 1994. In fact, Luzerne County refused to participate if the meetings were kept “under a shroud of secrecy,” as chief county clerk/administrator, Gene Klein, called it.tConservancy Meeting May Be Minus 2. Times Leader, December 22, 1994. He bluntly added, “That’s crap.”

Dziak initially contended the first meeting was for purely organizational purposes. Members needed to acquaint themselves and to devise a plan of action without the added pressure of an audience. But by the time of the meeting, Dziak reconsidered, recognizing it was a decision only the committee could make. Thus, following welcoming remarks and an overview of Earth Conservancy, Ed Schechter presented his case to open up the meetings. According to reporter Shannon McNulty, Schechter said, “Any land use plan the committee created behind closed doors would be useless. The committee’s work must be open for detailed discussion and responsive to the views of the public in order for it to be accepted and utilized by local governments.”tKanjorski: 'EC Land Use Panel to Open Up Meetings. Citizens’ Voice, January 13, 1995. A motion to conduct all meetings in public unanimously passed. The audience, including reporters, numbered around 20.

By the February meeting, a draft advertisement for qualifications for a planning consultant was ready for review, and subsequently released in March. The response was impressive: 47 firms requested application materials; 21 submitted a preliminary proposal. The committee then narrowed the field to six, inviting each firm to prepare a full response to the RFQ. Four delivered public presentations in June. All were strong. Schechter, impressed by the quality, wrote in one of his regular memos to the planning committee, “Whichever consultant is finally selected, we are certain to receive experienced advise [sic] from well-known economists, transportation planners, civil, environmental, and mining engineers, and conservation experts.” He also was pleased with the inclusion of several local firms as subconsultants. By July, the final decision was made. EDAW of Alexandria, Virginia, was selected to lead the project.

But before the contract could be signed and work could begin, funding still needed to be secured. Early feedback on the grant applications was promising; however, formal awards had not been made. On August 9th, Earth Conservancy received notification from the EDA of a $150,000 award for the land use plan. This was followed on September 13, 1995, by a $350,000 grant from ARC. With the federal awards secure, Luzerne County’s Office of Community Development then released an additional $100,000 grant to the project on September 29th. Now with the funding in place, EDAW signed its agreement with Earth Conservancy on October 9, 1995. Two days later, the team officially launched the project, meeting with the Land Use Planning Committee and Earth Conservancy’s board of directors.

As mentioned earlier, the Land Use Planning Committee had opened its meetings to the public from the start. However, despite the intense interest in January, only two members of the public attended the February meeting. Neither advertisements nor articles succeeded in boosting attendance, including for meetings of the Citizens’ Advisory Committee. In September, Dziak indicated public apathy was one of the project’s biggest challenges, commenting, “The question is are people going to help us. It’s a two-way street.”tConservancy Looks to Self-Sufficiency. Times Leader, September 27, 1995. Fortunately, the trend did not hold for the first public program. Although a snowstorm postponed the meeting by a week, over 100 people showed up to participate in EDAW’s “visioning workshop” at Luzerne County Community College (LCCC) on November 21, 1995. During the workshop, attendees worked in small groups, analyzing the region’s assets and challenges, articulating wants and needs, and brainstorming future uses for the land.

In addition to work on the plan, meetings featured presentations on land use initiatives already underway. For example, one meeting explored the development of the demonstration wetlands in Hanover Township. Another highlighted the enrollment of over 9,000 acres into the PA Game Commission’s Forest-Game Cooperators Program. In mid-February, a day-long event was held where members of the EDAW team reported on national economic trends and local market conditions. This was followed by two moderated panels of local experts. One focused on industrial and business development in the region. The other discussed housing, retail, and recreational issues.

Based on stakeholder input received and extensive research, EDAW developed three distinct land use alternatives, which were unveiled to the public at a second workshop on March 28, 1996. Alternative A prioritized economic development, proposing five new employment centers along a newly-created business corridor. Alternative B was amenity-based, with investments in parks, historical sites, and commercial hubs to boost recreation and tourism. Alternative C’s theme was “revitalizing traditional communities” through a “sustainable village” concept. Growth depended on the specific needs – and aspirations – of each municipality. It also emphasized expansion of residential areas, incorporating a variety of housing options.

Approximately 60 people attended the meeting. Again, they were broken into smaller groups, this time tasked with evaluating the three proposed plans. According to newspaper reports, Alternative B garnered the most support, although many questioned its financial viability. Others asked whether attracting outside visitors was even desired. Alternative A received mixed reviews, with attendees challenging the need to devote so much land to industrial use. Alternative C was the least favored. The fear was that if left to the towns, development would progress too slowly, if at all, and without future goals in mind.

After the meeting, Schechter summarized his observations in a memo to the Land Use Planning Committee. His first comment: “Concept 3[C], much to my surprise, is dead.” He had expected the close-knit communities to favor preserving their independence, admitting, “I am happy to have been proven wrong.” Schechter recommended combining the best elements of Concepts A and B. But he cautioned the committee that future messaging was critical. The public needed to recognize the challenges – and realities – of such an ambitious project.

One item to clarify was the necessity of land sales. Converting all the property to greenspace would not create a tax base; nor would income from tourism generate the amount that land sales would. Money was essential to rehabilitating the mine-scarred landscape. Another crucial point was countering the misconception that the remaining coal, including culm, would be a money-making resource. It “does not have a golden core,” Schechter wrote. This was corroborated by a project subconsultant, who questioned the original $24.7 million appraisal. While the quantity of coal reserved might have been accurate, the amount recoverable was overestimated. The depth of the coal, its submersion under the mine pools, and the current market significantly lowered its value. Most importantly, Schechter addressed the project’s long-term duration. At the meeting, attendees questioned the need for new roads, rail lines, and other infrastructure. Schechter emphasized: “This plan has a 25-year time-frame; we are not planning for the population and activities of today, but for the future.” Demographics, needs, and uses would change over time. Phased development was required.

By mid-June, enough data had been compiled that Earth Conservancy officials embarked on a tour of the municipalities affected by the Land Use Plan. Their goal was to engage directly with each community. According to the Press Enterprise, which covered the first presentation in Conyngham Township, Earth Conservancy staff arrived with “armfuls of maps and charts,” ready to share information, answer questions, and listen to concerns.tConservancy Plans Big for Mocanaqua. Press Enterprise, June 18, 1996. This step was crucial to the overall planning process, ensuring stakeholder feedback was considered before final decisions were made. Moreover, as Dziak recalled, these meetings were instrumental in establishing positive communication channels with the communities.

The final draft of the plan was released for public review on September 11, 1996, during the first open meeting of Earth Conservancy’s Board of Directors – a fitting occasion for such an important milestone. Dziak noted it was the generally positive atmosphere of the open Land Use Planning Committee meetings that had influenced the board’s decision to open its own sessions to the public. The public was given 30 days to submit comments. On October 30th, the Land Use Planning Committee approved the report by a vote of 35 to 1. The lone dissenting vote opposed only the allocation of 45 acres in Nanticoke to LCCC. The final version of the Land Use Plan was officially adopted by Earth Conservancy’s Board of Directors on November 7, 1996.

Earth Conservancy’s Land Use Plan was the first comprehensive planning endeavor in Luzerne County since the 1970s. During a stakeholder meeting with the board, Congressman Paul Kanjorski emphasized its transformational potential: “We have the opportunity to do it right. It should be the most imaginative, well-thought-out plan and one that learns from other people’s mistakes.” In the end, over 30 meetings with staff, committees, and the public were conducted by the EDAW team. Thousands of hours were spent compiling and synthesizing geographic, demographic, economic, and anecdotal data. Ed Schechter considered the Land Use Plan one of his proudest accomplishments, says his daughter, Claire. Karen Feather, Kanjorski’s chief of staff, called it “a tremendous gift to northeastern Pennsylvania.” Moreover, once completed, the report was not simply filed away. As Dziak noted, “We – to this day – are still doing the things that the Land Use Plan recommended.”

The Land Use Plan laid a crucial foundation for future studies. Early on, one of the most important was the preparation of roadway concepts that would eventually become the South Valley Parkway, which connected vast tracts of mine-scarred land to the highway system. A second study focused on a proposed co-generation plant in Newport Township by Foster-Wheeler, although it ultimately did not progress. Another plan developed out of a two-week summer internship program run by EDAW with eleven US and international college and graduate students. Interestingly, their plan for the Blue Coal lands centered on the individual communities, believing growth should develop from what was “familiar” and in response to the culture and needs of each small town. tStudents Focus on Towns’ Identities for EC Land Use Plans.” Citizens’ Voice, June 21, 1996. And lastly, spurred by the Land Use Plan’s goal to conserve 10,000 acres, efforts started to envision regional opportunities for recreation and green space. In fact, at the same board meeting that the Land Use Plan was approved, Earth Conservancy’s Director of Public Affairs, Liz Ortega, reported that members of the environmental and recreation sectors were already showing strong support. Earth Conservancy’s Open Space Master Plan was completed in 1998.

Earth Conservancy was awarded its first PA Governor’s Award for Environmental Excellence for the Land Use Plan in 1998.