Sinkholes and mines endanger neighborhoods in South Dakota

Stuart and Tonya Junker loved their quiet neighborhood near the Black Hills of South Dakota – until the earth began to collapse around them they usually wondered if their house might collapse right into a gaping hole.

They blame the state for selling the land that became the Hideaway Hills development, regardless that they knew it lay over an old mine. When the sinkholes began to burst, they and about 150 of their neighbors sued the state for $45 million to cover the worth of their homes and legal costs.

“Let's just say it's really changed our lives a lot,” Tonya Junker said. “The worry, the insomnia, the 'what if' something happens. It's everything, all of the above.”

Sinkholes are fairly common as a consequence of collapsed caves, old mines or dissolving material, however the circumstances in South Dakota are exceptional, said Paul Santi, a professor of geological engineering on the Colorado School of Mines. The combination of such large sinkholes endangering so many homes makes the situation in Hideaway Hills a memorable one.

“Based solely on my experience in case studies of geological problems, I can say that this case will go down in the textbooks,” Santi said.

Hideaway Hills, positioned just a few miles northwest of Rapid City, was built by employees from 2002 to 2004 on land that was previously owned by the state, where gypsum was mined to be used in a close-by state-owned cement plant.

Attorney Kathy Barrow, who represents residents of 94 homes in the event, said the state sold the surface but kept the subsoil and made no disclosure about stripping the soil of its natural ability to support the surface.

After the event was built, among the land sank barely over time and a hole opened up under a back porch, however the situation escalated after a big sinkhole opened up near where a person was mowing his lawn in 2020. That prompted residents to contact Barrow, and tests revealed a big, improperly sealed mine beneath the northeastern a part of the event and a 12-meter-deep pit mine in one other corner of the neighborhood, Barrow said.

Since the primary massive collapse, more holes and depressions have appeared, and there are actually “too many to count,” Barrow said. The unstable ground has affected 158 homes and left roads and utilities unstable.

At one point, an old truck might be seen in a hole under the porch of a house, still resting where a landowner pushed it right into a mining cave within the Forties, Barrow said.

The area near the 2020 collapse site has been cleared and cordoned off, but people still live in most of the other houses, mostly because they can not afford to maneuver out.

Residents are panicking but stuck, Barrow said.

“They're afraid of school buses falling into a hole. They're afraid of their houses collapsing at night on their children in their beds,” Barrow said. “I mean, you spend your whole life putting money into your house and creating value. It's the most valuable asset, and these people's asset has become not only worthless, but almost negative because it's dangerous to live in.”

An attorney for the state declined to comment, however the state has asked a judge to dismiss the case.

In court documents, the state authorities sued said they “would like to express their sincere condolences to many property owners” and described the creation of the sinkhole as “tragic.”

The state nevertheless argued that the officials weren’t in charge.

“The real culprits in this case are the developer, the original real estate agent and the numerous contractors who knowingly chose to build over an abandoned mine while intentionally keeping its existence secret from buyers in Hideaway Hills,” the state statement said.

In court documents, the state traced the region's mining history back to the twentieth century and mentioned an organization that operated each underground and surface mining before 1930. The state-owned cement plant was involved in mining for several years starting in 1986.

The state claimed it was not chargeable for damages related to the underground mine collapse since the cement plant was not digging underground and the mine would have collapsed even without the plant's activities. Around 1994, a horse farmer bought the land and later sold it to a developer who encountered a deep hole, state documents say.

The state said it had no way of knowing that the project developer, the property developers and the county would proceed with development of the neighborhood despite allegedly knowing in regards to the previous mining activities and underground cavities.

In 2000, the South Dakota legislature approved the sale of the state-owned cement plant. A voter-approved trust fund created from the sale proceeds totals over $371 million.

For the Junkers, the lawsuit is their best hope of escaping a nightmare.

Tonya Junker said her husband had planned to retire this yr but now has to work longer hours and tackle two jobs to lower your expenses in case of an evacuation.

The Junkers lived together within the neighborhood for 15 years in a house inbuilt 1929 and were one among the primary homes within the neighborhood to maneuver into the event. They gutted and remodeled the constructing and planned to make the three-bedroom, two-bathroom home their retirement retreat.

Stuart Junker said he just desired to get the quantity his house was price.

“It's just disappointing that the state doesn't care about us,” he said. “I mean, that's their problem.”

Dura reported from Bismarck, North Dakota.

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