What if I were to tell you that a real place inspired the namesake town in the 2006 horror film Silent Hill? As it happens, a near-ghost town can be found in Columbia County, Pennsylvania that fits the bill. I am referring to Centralia, Pennsylvania. Not only has Centralia been coined “the real Silent Hill,” but it’s even one of the confirmed locations that screenwriter Roger Avary consulted when adapting the psychological thriller video game for the big screen.
Centralia, in all its present-day eeriness and otherworldliness, has also inspired various creepy works of literature. These include Dean Koontz’s Strange Highways and David Wellington’s Vampire Zero among others.
While Centralia’s notoriety today is almost exclusively linked to its bizarre blazing underground fires, projected to burn for another two and a half centuries, there’s much more to the town’s backstory worth exploring. That’s why, for this Flashback Friday Feature, I’m detailing the foundational history of Centralia, from precolonial times to the present state of things.
An Early History of the Land
Before New World colonization, the only residents in what we know today as Columbia County were those of various regional Native American tribes. By 1749, many of these tribes sold the land of what is now Centralia to colonial agents for a total of £500. One of the earliest developments in the area included the creation of Reading Road in 1770, with part of it becoming Route 61. In 1793, Revolutionary War hero and Declaration signer Robert Morris acquired a third of the land that would eventually comprise Centralia. After losing his land due to bankruptcy five years later, Stephen Girard of Philadelphia purchased this property along with 68 additional tracts to the east.
A Mining Town Emerges
Even though Girard was aware of the existence of anthracite coal in the area, the regional prominence of such a prospect wasn’t fully realized until the mid-1800s. First came the buying up of the land by the Locust Mountain Coal and Iron Company in 1842. Next, the Mine Run Railroad was established in 1854 to transport coal out of the valley. The first two mines to be built here, the Locust Run Mine and the Coal Ridge Mine, began operations in 1856. The Hazeldell Colliery Mine followed four years later. In 1862 came the Centralia Mine, and then the Continental in 1863.
Soon after, mining engineer Alexander Rae relocated his family to the area intending to create an entire village founded around the new mining operations. Originally called “Centreville,” the town was renamed “Centralia” in 1865, owing to the fact a Centreville already existed in Schuylkill County. Centralia was incorporated as a borough one year later.
Developments continued to flourish in the newly established borough with population numbers soaring to just under 3,000 residents by the end of the century. By then, the town boasted five hotels, seven churches, 27 saloons, 14 stores, two theaters, a bank, and a post office.
The Mine Fires
Even with its once-flourishing renown and coal mining prominence throughout Pennsylvania, Centralia hasn’t been without a slew of weird and wacky occurrences over the years. Town founder Alexander Rae, for instance, was murdered by the Molly Maguires back in 1868. There were also several acts of violence and even arson early on. One local legend even cites that the town’s first Roman Catholic priest, Father Daniel Ignatius McDermott, declared the land cursed, on account of the Molly Maguires and the trouble they caused.
Yet Centralia’s most infamous and intriguing claim to fame is that of being the site of a raging underground coal seam fire. These flames have been burning since 1962, still going strong after all this time, and showing no signs of waning anytime soon. A burning depth of up to 300 feet over eight miles spanning 3,700 acres makes extinguishing the flames impossible. Current projections indicate that the fires are estimated to keep burning for another 250 years or more!
There’s been a lot of debate among professional analysts over the direct cause of the fire. In his book Fire Underground: The Ongoing Tragedy of the Centralia Mine Fire, author David Dekok cites the source as being the result of an attempted cleanup in the town’s landfill. Author Joan Quigley of The Day the Earth Caved In suggests that the fires began one day before the documented cleanup efforts when a trash hauler dumped hot ash or discarded coal from burners into the open trash pit. Yet another theory indicates that the flames were burning out of control long before anyone noticed, started by the earlier Bast Colliery coal fire of 1932, which may have never been fully extinguished. Other suggested hypotheses include abnormally warm weather being to blame or the flames having originated from an adjacent coal seam fire.
While the details surrounding the fire’s source remain inconclusive everyone can rightfully agree that the resulting situation is downright bizarre in every extreme.
Evacuation and Residency Stats
With the fires burning underfoot for more than 20 years, evacuation efforts escalated in the 1980s. Congress even approved the allocation of $42 million to help relocate the remaining residents. While most accepted the offer, a few stood steadfast in their decision to stay in their homes. By 1992, the governor invoked eminent domain on all existing properties within Centralia, and by 2002 the United States Postal Service disbanded the town zip code, which was 17927.
Despite formal evictions commencing in 2009, some folks still insisted on staying put, even leading to lawsuits. The resolution finally came in 2013 when state and local officials agreed to allow the handful of remaining residents to stay in their homes until death. By then property rights would be seized through eminent domain.
As of 2020, Centralia has a grand total of five citizens. Existing residency, albeit meager, prevents the borough from being declared an actual ghost town. Instead, it is often referred to as a “near-ghost town,” pending status.
Due to Centralia’s unsafe, hazardous conditions, the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection firmly dissuades visitors to the area. Despite the warnings, though, meddlesome explorers are nothing new. But that’s only to be expected, especially with word getting out about this being the closest real-life incarnation of Silent Hill. All the same, it is not advisable to put yourself in any unnecessary harm by coming here.
If you’re looking for a viable thrill this Halloween season, there are many safer alternatives to consider. From haunted hayrides and presented haunted house setups to scary movie marathons, you have plenty of options awaiting you. Maybe even consider watching Silent Hill from the comfort of your own home. But whatever you do, don’t try to actually “visit” Silent Hill personally.