"Most of 'em are dead now, and the ones that are left have some serious problems," he said. "I blame the government. . . . Had I known, I would never have worked there."

Admitting guilt

Congress acknowledged limited government responsibility when it passed in 1990 the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, which provides $100,000 to each underground uranium miner who has one of six lung diseases linked to radiation exposure.

Utah Sen. Orrin Hatch recently pushed through legislation that expanded the program to include more uranium workers and different types of cancers.

Additionally, the government has sponsored two massive health and mortality studies of former uranium mill workers. The results of the studies should be available this year, according to the Department of Energy.

"It helps that they have admitted some of their guilt," Maughan said. "But it doesn't help when your boy dies. Nothing can compensate for that."

Others, like Shumway, stubbornly assert there are no ill effects from uranium, despite many miners who are dead or dying from cancer blamed on exposure to radiation in the mines. After all, 80-year-old Shumway is still alive.

"I've got more exposure than most and have been patiently waiting 80 years to get paid the $100,000 if you have lung cancer," he said.

Former San Juan County Commissioner Cal Black, one of the most famous uranium prospectors in the region, dismissed the dangers of uranium. He even wore a uranium-laden bolo tie from time to time. He died of cancer, and now his sons, who worked in the mines with him, are showing signs of lung ailments.

The mess we made

State and federal officials are now coming to grips with the stark realization that the legacy of uranium mining extends far beyond the dead and dying. Water and soils contaminated with radiation plague much of rural Utah, and an entire generation unfamiliar with the Cold War frenzy may yet feel its effects.

In Cottonwood Wash outside of Blanding, schoolchildren routinely swim in pools of water with radiation levels above what state water quality experts consider safe. Cows drink it, too, before the water makes its way into the San Juan River where it becomes part of a drinking water supply for millions of unsuspecting downstream users.

And then there is the problem of an estimated 5,000 abandoned uranium mines.

Mark Mesch, who heads the state's abandoned mine reclamation program, recalls how in 1998 he was conducting a bat survey inside one mine near Blanding when he noticed a bright orange object tucked into a drill hole. It was a plastic egg, presumably left behind by a family who used the mine for an Easter egg hunt.