Mitch and Kara Meredith saved for 12 years to build their dream home on Darlene Lane in Fort Gibson, Oklahoma—a 2,500-square-foot modern farmhouse where they raised their three young daughters. Last August, five weeks after the birth of their third child, dark, oily fluid began seeping through the floors of the home at explosive gas concentrations, according to recordings and reports reviewed by ProPublica and The Frontier. State records suggest the house may have been constructed atop an improperly plugged oil well drilled in the 1940s, and the family says Oklahoma's primary oil and gas regulatory agency has done little to help them.
The Merediths' ordeal began when their 7-year-old daughter reported water covering the garage floor. Upon investigation, Mitch found a thick, black fluid with an oily sheen covering multiple rooms. Family members fought the flood through the night, vacuuming sludge and emptying buckets out windows. After pulling away the bathtub, they discovered the substance was gushing through the home's foundation. By 5 a.m., an uncle told Mitch he believed it was oil. The family evacuated, calling the fire department and rushing their children—including an infant—to safety.
The couple had pinned their hopes on the Oklahoma Corporation Commission, the state agency responsible for overseeing oil and gas operations, including pollution from the industry and plugging abandoned wells. In October, more than a month after the flooding began, Jeremy Hodges, director of the commission's oil and gas division, visited the property. According to a recording provided by the family, Hodges told them that when inspectors inserted a gas reader into the hole in their bathroom floor, it showed explosive-level concentrations. The local public works authority similarly documented "serious and immediate hazard" gas levels in a report.
What the Left Is Saying
Environmental advocates and progressive policy groups argue that Oklahoma's regulatory framework has failed to protect residents from the hazards of abandoned oil infrastructure. They point to the gap between the state's official count of 19,000 orphan wells—unplugged wells with no responsible party—and federal researchers' estimates exceeding 300,000 such wells statewide. Progressive groups have called for increased funding from both state legislatures and federal programs established under bipartisan infrastructure legislation.
"This family did everything right," said one Oklahoma environmental advocate who spoke on background. "They saved for over a decade to build a home, only to find out the state had no system in place to prevent construction atop a potentially dangerous abandoned well." Advocates argue that stronger disclosure requirements, mandatory pre-construction well searches, and dedicated funding for orphan well remediation would prevent similar situations.
What the Right Is Saying
Conservative commentators and some regulatory reform advocates frame the issue differently. They note that Oklahoma's oil and gas industry employs tens of thousands of residents and generates significant revenue for the state. Some argue that expanding liability or imposing new permitting requirements could drive investment elsewhere, hurting the state's economy without guaranteeing safer outcomes.
Others suggest the problem stems from local zoning and development decisions rather than state regulatory failures. "Property developers bear responsibility for due diligence before construction," said one industry analyst. "If someone builds on top of an old well site, that's a failure at multiple levels—local planning, developer oversight, and yes, historical record-keeping—but more mandates on the energy sector won't fix that."
What the Numbers Show
Oklahoma's oil and gas regulatory landscape presents stark contrasts in documented versus estimated abandoned wells. The Oklahoma Corporation Commission officially lists approximately 19,000 orphan wells requiring cleanup. However, federal researchers from the U.S. Department of Energy and academic institutions studying historical drilling records estimate the actual number could exceed 300,000 unplugged or improperly plugged wells across the state.
The family's losses extend beyond their home. They moved four times in four months following the evacuation, at one point paying both mortgage and rent simultaneously. Black goo saturated clothing, sheets, and mattresses throughout the house. The property remains uninhabitable, with gas concentrations documented at levels sufficient for ignition, according to multiple readings taken by authorities.
The Bottom Line
The Meredith case highlights a gap between regulatory responsibility and practical solutions for Oklahoma homeowners affected by historical oil operations. State regulators acknowledge the hazard but say they have limited authority to assist individual property owners in such situations. The family continues seeking accountability while navigating displacement from their home of four years, with no clear timeline for returning or receiving compensation.
What remains unresolved is who bears responsibility when homes are built atop improperly documented abandoned wells—and what recourse exists for affected homeowners. State legislators may face pressure to address disclosure requirements and orphan well funding as similar cases surface across Oklahoma's oil-producing regions.