Skip to main content
Allan's Abandoned America badge

Documentary Channel

Allan's Abandoned America

Back to all stories
Toxic Sites

The Other Mine Fire Nobody Remembers: Laurel Run

Laurel Run, Pennsylvania

41.2223 N, 75.8630 W

Most people know Centralia. Far fewer know Laurel Run, even though Laurel Run's underground fire had already been burning for 47 years when Centralia ignited in 1962.

That difference in memory hides a more revealing story. Laurel Run shows what happened when a dangerous Pennsylvania mine fire received fast political attention, relocation funding, and a coordinated response. Centralia became the symbol of failure. Laurel Run became the case people forgot.

How The Fire Started

On December 6, 1915, a miner at the Red Ash Coal Mine left a carbide lamp burning underground. The flame caught timber supports, then reached the coal itself.

Early attempts focused on sealing the affected workings with concrete and sand. Those measures did not extinguish the fire. They only slowed it while the blaze kept moving through the anthracite seams below the ridge.

By the 1920s, the fire had spread through multiple beds, including the Ross, Top Red Ash, and Bottom Red Ash seams. After mining ended in 1957, the fire remained underground with no successful extinguishment campaign.

Why The Town Became Unsafe

Over time, the damage above ground became impossible to ignore. Subsidence opened cracks in roads and yards. Gases vented through fissures and old mine openings. Residents reported sulfur smells, headaches, and unstable ground.

Pillar robbing made the situation worse. Removing coal left behind to support the roof created new voids that weakened the ridge and opened more pathways for oxygen and combustion gases.

By 1962, Laurel Run was no longer just a mine with a hidden fire beneath it. It had become a public hazard zone.

The Response Laurel Run Received

In late 1962, state and federal officials moved quickly. Governor William Scranton and Congressman Daniel J. Flood visited the site, and emergency aid followed.

The Appalachian Regional Commission provided $1 million, Pennsylvania added another $500,000, and the Department of Housing and Urban Development backed relocation. Engineers drilled boreholes, mapped heat and gases, and built a containment system aimed at stopping the fire from advancing toward Georgetown.

More than 850 residents were relocated, and over 150 structures were removed. Laurel Run was effectively erased above ground while the fire continued below.

Why Laurel Run And Centralia Diverged

Laurel Run and Centralia are often linked because both crises came into focus in 1962. But the two towns did not receive the same response.

Laurel Run got early intervention, organized funding, and rapid relocation. Centralia's residents remained over a mine fire for decades before comparable large-scale help arrived. The difference was not just geology. It was timing, access, and political attention.

That is why Laurel Run matters. It is the less famous Pennsylvania mine-fire story, but it may be the clearer one if the question is how governments decide which communities get urgent help.

Contained Is Not The Same As Extinguished

In 1973, the fire was declared contained. That did not mean it was out.

Containment stopped westward spread toward Georgetown, but the fire continued burning beneath the old site. Gas venting, elevated soil temperatures, and long-term monitoring remained part of the landscape.

Laurel Run is best understood as a partially controlled disaster, not a solved one. The town above the fire was removed. The fire itself endured.

Laurel Run Today

The ridge near Wilkes-Barre still carries the remains of Laurel Run: foundations, vents, disturbed ground, and the long aftermath of a fire that began in 1915.

What survives here is not a preserved ghost town in the tourist sense. It is a largely erased community whose disappearance was driven by heat, gas, subsidence, and a century-long underground burn.

Laurel Run deserves to be remembered not only because it burned first, but because it shows what early intervention could look like in anthracite country, and how easily even a major forced relocation can vanish from public memory.