The neighbor that Mayfield residents never asked for had been lurking 36 inches beneath the surface for nearly six decades, and Sabrina Johnson was ready to bring it to light.
On a recent Wednesday afternoon, Johnson, the Environmental and Climate Justice chair for the Fredericksburg branch of the NAACP, straightened four stacks of papers on a picnic table under a covered shelter outside the Mayfield Community Center.
“Dear Mayfield Resident,” one of the papers read. “This package has information about the Petroleum Pipeline that runs through the Mayfield Community.”
And then, in all caps: “THERE IS NO DANGER AT THIS TIME.”
It was a somewhat necessary addendum, given the fleet of emergency vehicles — including two tanker trucks and an ambulance — parked along both sides of Glover Street that afternoon.
Johnson gathered her papers and walked down to the sidewalk, where Fredericksburg Fire Chief Mike Jones, two of his battalion chiefs and approximately 20 firefighters and/or EMTs were waiting.
The pipeline, installed in 1964 and owned by energy company Kinder Morgan, isn’t going anywhere. But information about it hasn’t always flowed as freely as the approximately 30 million gallons of diesel, gasoline and avgas it pumps daily from Louisiana to its terminal point off Interstate 95 in Newington.
A joint effort between the city of Fredericksburg, the NAACP and the Mayfield Civic Association is looking to change that.
As Johnson handed out packets that included written information about the pipeline as well as an evacuation plan for the historically Black neighborhood and explained the protocol for going door to door, firefighters and volunteers divvied up Mayfield’s residential streets.
“We’re looking at approximately 500 homes,” Jones said. “If we hustle, we can hit them all in one evening.”
‘Just part of the neighborhood’
Chuck Frye didn’t pay the yellow signs much heed.
For Fredericksburg’s vice mayor, who moved to Mayfield when he was 6, the pipeline markers scattered throughout the neighborhood are an ingrained, if mundane, childhood memory.
“Everybody knew it was there, and I remember as a kid hearing where it went to,” Frye said of the pipeline. “But it was just normal. It was just there, part of the neighborhood.”
During a recent interview with the Free Press, Jones explained that the pipeline enters the Fredericksburg region from the south along the CSX rail right-of-way. It then enters Mayfield along Howard Avenue and travels north up Frazier Street and Beulah Salisbury Road before crossing beneath the Rappahannock River.
“The only subdivision that it runs through — between the Caroline-Spotsylvania line and Stafford-Prince William line — is Mayfield,” Jones said.
If you ask Mayfield Civic Association President Trudy Smith, that’s no coincidence.
“It doesn’t go through any neighborhood in Stafford,” Smith said. “Somehow, it goes all around that.”
Smith also noted the compounding impact of the pipeline when coupled with the railroad, which has run through the area since the Civil War era. The railroad, now owned by CSX, routinely carries industrial freight within 50 feet of houses on Mayfield’s Railroad Avenue with only a chain-link fence acting as a buffer.
And one such freight train derailed less than a mile away — near the Cobblestone apartment complex — back in July. Earlier this month, Rep. Abigail Spanberger (D) visited the site of the derailment as well as the CSX railyard abutting Railroad Avenue, where tanker cars containing hazardous (and often combustible) materials were stored on a side track as recently as nine months ago.
“It’s like double indemnity,” Smith said. “Why would you double down with such a small community? And couldn’t you not have found another route for those pipelines to run?”
‘Hiding in plain sight’
For every astute, longtime resident like Frye, there’s a Spanish-speaking family who just rented a home in the neighborhood or folks who otherwise aren’t aware of the pipeline.
One Mayfield resident who called Johnson last year just wanted to know why people were digging in a neighbor’s yard.
“The concern the community felt, when we were in touch with the Mayfield Civic Association, was, ‘Why don’t more of us know about this?’” she said.
Added Smith: “It’s just like it was hiding in plain sight. There was a yellow pipe sticking out of the ground — and I won’t say no one — but most folks didn’t take the time to read it. And when they did, I don’t think they realized it was as hazardous as it could be.”
They settled on a phased approach, starting with Jones’ presentation at a July 12 community meeting, followed by the door-to-door campaign carried out last week.
Jones’ presentation, which he made to a crowd that included approximately 50 Mayfield residents and several city officials, served as equal parts education and community outreach. One slide was titled, “What is done to make sure the pipeline is safe?” and included information on 24/7 computerized leak monitoring from offices in Alpharetta, Ga.
According to a slide, the leaks can be shut down “within seconds,” if emergency conditions are identified.
“A lot of times knowledge will go a long way,” Jones said. “The other thing is to talk about what the hazards are.”
Jones said that, in the 41 years he’s been with the fire department, there’s been only one incident with the section of the pipeline in the Fredericksburg area. In 2018, a slight leak was detected along the CSX right-of-way just north of Lansdowne Road. According to Jones, there was never a threat to the public.
“It’s been a very good neighbor,” Jones said, adding that Kinder Morgan offers a half-day training class to first responders in Fredericksburg every three years.
Every two years, said Jones, the Pipeline and Hazardous Materials Safety Administration requires the company to provide written notifications to residents whose homes are located directly along the pipeline.
However, as Johnson noted, “If you’re a block over, you don’t get it.”
A lasting message
Johnson parked her Jeep on the south side of Coakley Street across from a U-Haul dealer and out-of-commission stone plant and went right to work.
The four sets of paper contained two scripts, each printed in English and Spanish. Volunteers from the NAACP also included in the packet Spanish versions of the city’s evacuation plan for Mayfield.
At the first door she tried, an elderly Black gentleman answered, and the two shared a brief conversation about the pipeline before he nodded his head in thanks.
When residents either weren’t home or didn’t answer the door — as was the case more often than not as Johnson ping-ponged methodically up and down the street — she left a packet looped around the doorknob.
Whether or not volunteers talked to them personally, residents were going to get the message.
For her part, Johnson views the pipeline as an environmental justice issue — and not an isolated one.
“It’s the national experience,” she said. “Where do you put your landfills, where do you put your factories? Normally, it’s around neighborhoods that will give the least resistance.
“There’s so many things we want to do to benefit the community, but there’s always a cost involved. And it’s important to understand who’s bearing that cost.”