The smelter ground Murray
The landmark everybody remembers, and the ground it left behind
Where the smokestacks stood, and what is on that ground now.
Two brick chimneys of 455 and 295 feet stood over the ASARCO lead smelter at 5200 South State for most of a century, and both were dropped by explosive charges on the morning of 6 August 2000 after voters declined to spend 3.4 million dollars keeping them. Here is why they were built, why the taller one exists at all, what the cleanup involved, and the three works that mark the footprint today.
Southern Utah is my home turf. Murray is not, so these pages are researched rather than lived: checked against city, county and venue sources, and dated so you can see how fresh they are. For the on-the-ground work here I lean on a Salt Lake County partner agent.
Start here
The landmark this city is known for has not existed since the year 2000.
If you have seen an old photograph of the Salt Lake Valley taken from anywhere south of downtown, you have seen Murray's smokestacks. Two brick chimneys stood on the ASARCO lead smelter ground at 5200 South State: a companion of 295 feet, and a taller one of 455 feet built in 1918 specifically to lift the fumes higher and further from the farms that had been suing over ruined crops and sick livestock since at least 1907.
They are gone. Both were dropped by explosive charges at their bases on the morning of 6 August 2000, two years after Murray voters were asked to approve a 3.4 million dollar bond to preserve them and declined. Anybody arriving in this city expecting to photograph the stacks is about a quarter of a century late, and the number of pages online that still show them without a date is the reason this page exists.
What stands on that ground now is Intermountain Medical Center, the flagship hospital of the Intermountain Health system, which opened in 2007 on land that went through a federal cleanup first. The transformation from the largest lead smelter of its era to the valley's largest hospital campus is about as complete a second act as an American industrial town has managed, and the site does not hide it: three separate works now mark where the stacks were.
The stacks by the numbers
455 ft
the taller stack, built in 1918
295 ft
its companion
1998
the year the preservation bond failed
6 Aug 2000
one morning, both stacks
Why here
Rail and a middle position are exactly what a smelter needs.
Murray did not become a smelting town by accident, and understanding why it happened here explains a great deal about the city that grew afterwards. The two things a smelter wanted in the nineteenth century were a railway and a central location relative to the mines, and this ground had both.
| Roughly when | What happened | Why it matters now |
|---|---|---|
| From about 1870 | Works including the Germania rose along the rail line on the valley floor | Germania survives as a street name and as the name of the park on the river at the city's west edge |
| 1902 | ASARCO opened its lead smelter at 5200 South State | The same year Murray's residents voted to incorporate, partly to keep control of their own taxes and services |
| 1907 onwards | Farmers complained of lead and arsenic damage to crops and livestock, and sued | The suits are the reason the taller stack exists at all |
| 1918 | The 455 foot stack was built to disperse fumes further | It became the valley's landmark for eighty years and it is in the city's logo |
| About 1949 | Smelting wound down; the tall stack's last smoke is dated to that year | The stacks then stood for another half century doing nothing at all |
| 1994 | EPA proposed the site for the National Priorities List with a hazard score of 86.6 | The listing was never finalised, which is a distinction that matters and is explained below |
Dates and figures from the EPA Superfund site profile for Murray Smelter, the Intermountain Histories account of the site, and contemporary reporting. The 86.6 hazard score was roughly double the regional average of 45.3 at the time, which is why the site drew the attention it did.
The detail that reframes the whole story is the 1918 stack. It was not built as a monument or as a statement of industrial confidence. It was built because the operation was poisoning the ground around it and the answer available at the time was to send the fumes higher and further away. The valley's most beloved landmark was a pollution control device, and the farmers who forced it into existence had already been fighting for a decade.
The second detail is the timing of incorporation. Murray became a city on 3 January 1903, weeks after ASARCO opened its smelter, following a vote in November 1902. A town that had just acquired the largest industrial employer in the territory chose that moment to take control of its own taxation and services. Everything this city has done since, running its own utilities, its own schools and its own police and fire, sits downstream of a decision made in the shadow of that smelter.
And the third is how long the stacks stood after they stopped working. The last smoke is dated to 1949 and the demolition to 2000. For fifty one years these were two enormous derelict chimneys that a city gave directions by. That is why the 1998 bond vote was as contentious as it was: the question was not whether the stacks were useful, it was whether a place is obliged to keep the thing everybody navigates by.
The decision
A ballot in 1998, and a single morning in 2000.
In 1998 Murray voters were asked to approve a bond of 3.4 million dollars to preserve the stacks, and they said no. That figure is the crux of the whole argument. Preserving two brick chimneys of 455 and 295 feet, caked in lead and asbestos, standing on ground about to enter a federal cleanup, was never going to be cheap, and the city put the real number in front of the electorate rather than a sentiment. The electorate answered with its wallet.
On the morning of 6 August 2000 both stacks were brought down by charges set at their bases, and they fell rather than toppling. It took seconds. Local coverage at the time and every anniversary piece since records the same thing: a very large crowd, a lot of people who had grown up looking at them, and an unusual amount of feeling for two disused chimneys. Twenty years later the local paper was still writing about it, which tells you where this sits in the city's memory.
It is worth being straight about why it was the right call and why it still stings, because both are true. The stacks were structurally and chemically a problem sitting on the most valuable redevelopment site in the mid valley, and keeping them would have cost the city money it chose to spend elsewhere. They were also the only thing about Murray that anybody outside Murray could name. Losing a landmark and gaining a hospital campus is a good trade in every measurable respect and it is still a loss.
Longtime residents still give directions relative to two chimneys that came down a quarter of a century ago.
Photographs of the stacks are not evidence about the present. Search for this city and a large share of the images returned show two smokestacks, because they stood for eighty years and were photographed constantly, and because image results are not dated in any way a casual reader notices. There is nothing standing on that ground now except a hospital campus, its car parks, a light rail station and the memorial works described below. If a page shows the stacks and does not say when, it is a historical photograph.
The ground
A federal cleanup that never became a Superfund listing.
This is the part that matters most to anybody with a practical interest in the site, and it is routinely got wrong in both directions: people either assume the whole city is a Superfund site or assume nothing ever happened here. Neither is right.
| The step | What actually happened |
|---|---|
| 1994 | EPA proposed the Murray Smelter site for the National Priorities List, scoring it 86.6 on the hazard ranking |
| The listing | It was never finalised. The site was proposed and then handled outside the formal National Priorities List process |
| Instead | EPA and ASARCO, the responsible party, signed settlement agreements covering site investigation and cleanup |
| Roughly 1995 to 2001 | Cleanup ran, thousands of tons of contaminated soil were removed and groundwater monitoring stations were installed |
| By 2002 | The ground was cleared for commercial redevelopment |
| Since | Monitoring continues, and the site now carries a hospital campus, a rail station, commercial buildings, a school and small businesses |
Sequence from the EPA Superfund site profile for Murray Smelter and the Intermountain Histories account, checked 7 August 2026. The distinction between a proposed listing and a final one is a real legal difference rather than a technicality, and it is why the site's paperwork reads the way it does.
The practical translation is that this ground has one of the most thoroughly documented environmental histories of any parcel in the Salt Lake Valley. That is the opposite of a hidden problem. A site that went through federal investigation, a negotiated settlement, six years of active cleanup, soil removal and ongoing groundwater monitoring has a paper trail; the awkward parcels are the ones nobody ever looked at.
It is also worth noticing what got built on it. A hospital system does not put its flagship campus, its emergency and trauma programme and 1.3 million square feet of building on ground it has not satisfied itself about, and neither does a transit authority put a rail station on it. Those are two organisations with a great deal to lose and a strong incentive to read the file carefully before signing.
None of that is a statement about any other parcel in this city, and the honest advice for anyone buying anywhere near a former industrial site in the mid valley is the ordinary one: it is a records question about a specific address, not a verdict on a place. The city hub at the Murray city guide covers how to run that homework, and it is the same homework you would run on a roof.
The memorials
Three works and a logo, standing in for two chimneys.
The best of the three is the one almost nobody knows about. South of the hospital's first tower there is a memorial garden laid out inside the footprint of the tall stack, so the shape you are standing in is the actual base of the 455 foot chimney. Walking its outline is the only way left to feel the scale of the thing, and it does the job better than any photograph, because the diameter of a stack that size is genuinely startling at ground level.
The second is at the railway platform. UTA commissioned a sculpture at Murray Central TRAX station that references the stacks, which puts the memorial in front of every commuter who uses the station rather than only in front of people who came looking. The third is a large mural at the corner of State Street and 5300 South, on the main north to south spine of the city, which is about as public a position as this city has to offer.
And then there is the logo. The City of Murray carries the stacks in its own municipal mark, which means the thing the voters declined to spend 3.4 million dollars preserving is on the letterhead, the vehicles and the signage. That is a fairly sophisticated piece of civic honesty: the city decided it could not afford the objects and kept the silhouette, and the silhouette is what everybody actually remembered anyway.
The city could not afford to keep the chimneys, so it kept the outline and put it on the letterhead.
The last word
What this ground tells you about the city around it.
A visitor can walk this site in half an hour and come away understanding Murray better than a day anywhere else in the city would manage. The sequence is legible: rail arrives, smelters follow, the town incorporates to keep hold of its own affairs, the industry dies, the landmark stands derelict for half a century, the electorate refuses to pay for sentiment, the ground gets cleaned to a federal standard, and the largest hospital campus in the state goes up on it.
That is a city that has repeatedly chosen the practical option and then quietly commemorated what it gave up. It runs its own utilities and its own schools for the same reason it voted down the bond and then put the stacks in the logo. There is a consistent temperament here across a hundred and twenty years, and this parcel is where it is easiest to read.
For a buyer the useful version is smaller and more specific. The hospital campus is not scenery, it is the largest single thing inside this city boundary and it runs around the clock, which changes how the blocks immediately around it behave. That is a subject for the movers page, and it is worth reading before deciding how close to the campus you want to be.
Keep reading
More of Murray on The Local.
Things to do
The top 8, ranked
A 63 acre park on a creek, a theatre back after eight dark years, and a farm from 1886.
Read the guideThe park
Murray Park, end to end
Sixty three acres, a creek down the middle, an arboretum and the old county fairground.
Read the guideThe centre
Murray City Centre
Five form districts adopted in 2025, a 1938 theatre reopened, and a mansion turned museum.
Read the guideThe river
The Jordan River through Murray
Five miles of paved trail, five trailhead parks, a confluence and a wetland classroom.
Read the guideMoving here
A centre of the valley address
What three rail stops, two freeways and a round the clock hospital do to a week.
Read the guideThe companion
Murray, the whole picture
The park, the smelter ground, the city centre, the river and the address, in one place.
Read the pageQuick answers
The stacks, answered.
On the morning of 6 August 2000, by explosive charges set at their bases, so that both fell rather than toppling. The decision followed a 1998 ballot in which Murray voters were asked to approve a bond of 3.4 million dollars to preserve them and declined. Local coverage records a very large crowd and a considerable amount of feeling for two disused chimneys, and the local paper was still writing anniversary pieces about it twenty years later.
The taller of the two stood 455 feet and its companion 295 feet. The tall one was built in 1918, and not as a monument: farmers around the smelter had been complaining since at least 1907 about lead and arsenic damage to crops and livestock, and some had sued successfully, so the stack was raised to disperse the fumes higher and further away. The valley's best known landmark was, in origin, a pollution control device.
Intermountain Medical Center, the flagship hospital campus of the Intermountain Health system, which opened in 2007. The wider former industrial ground also carries a light rail station, commercial buildings, a police training facility, a school and assorted small businesses. The site was cleared for commercial redevelopment by 2002, after a cleanup that ran roughly from 1995 to 2001 and removed thousands of tons of contaminated soil.
It was proposed for the Superfund National Priorities List in 1994 with a hazard ranking score of 86.6, roughly double the regional average at the time, but the listing was never finalised. EPA and ASARCO, the responsible party, signed settlement agreements covering investigation and cleanup instead, so the work was done outside the formal listing process. Groundwater monitoring stations were installed and monitoring continues.
Three works, plus the city's own logo. A memorial garden is laid out inside the footprint of the tall stack, south of the hospital's first tower, so the outline you walk is the actual base of the 455 foot chimney. UTA commissioned a sculpture referencing the stacks at Murray Central TRAX station. And a large mural sits at the corner of State Street and 5300 South. The City of Murray also carries the stacks in its municipal logo.
Because the two things a nineteenth century smelter needed were a railway and a central position relative to the mines, and this ground had both. Works including the Germania rose along the rail line from about 1870, and ASARCO opened its lead smelter at 5200 South State in 1902. Germania survives today as a street name and as the name of a park on the Jordan River at the western edge of the city.
Operations wound down around 1949, and the tall stack's last smoke is dated to that year. What is easy to miss is how long the chimneys then stood doing nothing: fifty one years passed between the last smoke and the demolition in 2000. For half a century these were two enormous derelict brick towers that an entire valley used to orient itself, which is why the argument about keeping them was as heated as it was.
You can walk the memorial garden in the footprint of the tall stack, which sits south of the hospital's first tower, and you can see the sculpture at Murray Central TRAX station and the mural at State Street and 5300 South. Bear in mind that the ground is a working hospital campus with an emergency and trauma programme on it, so treat it accordingly: park considerately, stay on public ground, and remember that people around you are having difficult days.
It is a records question about a specific address rather than a verdict on a city, which is the same standard you would apply to a roof or a foundation. The smelter parcel itself is unusually well documented: federal investigation, a negotiated settlement, roughly six years of cleanup, soil removal and continuing groundwater monitoring. For any particular property anywhere in the mid valley, ask for what is on record for that parcel and read it, exactly as you would any other disclosure.
A city that traded a landmark for a hospital campus.
The ground the stacks stood on is now the largest single thing inside this city boundary, and how close a property sits to it changes a household's week in ways a listing photograph will not show, in both directions. Tell me what you are weighing and I will put you with a Salt Lake County partner agent who knows this mid valley ground, and stay on the file for the homework and the financing side.
Referral disclosure. Outside Southern Utah, I connect home sellers and buyers with partner agents I trust in their area. If you choose to work with an agent I refer, that agent's brokerage pays my brokerage (Real Broker, LLC) a referral fee. The fee comes out of the agent's compensation; it is not an added cost to you. You are always free to choose any agent you wish, and using a referred agent is never required.