The more I read the newspapers, the more I keep coming back to the same question: If agricultural chemicals are so safe, why do members of anti-government militias keep using them to make bombs? If it’s not a report from the McVeigh trial, then it’s the Republic of Texas or another clutch of wackos here in the Pacific Northwest.
Last week’s newspaper carried a report of an explosion at a pesticide factory in Arkansas that killed three fire fighters. A toxic cloud rose over the town and sent residents to the hospital, poisoned by fumes. Obviously, these folks didn’t know how to shelter in place. Wherever you have large facilities producing or using toxic chemicals there is the potential for an accident. You would think the companies which operate these facilities would feel an obligation to their employees and their communities. Perhaps they would donate money to the local fire department or office of emergency services. Down on the “chemical corridor” along the Mississippi in Louisiana, the chemical facilities – jammed together like New Yorkers on a subway – could share the cost of protecting their communities. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. The chemical companies are protecting their bottom line, so they developed “Shelter in Place.” Television commercials in Louisiana advertise the “shelter in place” concept. In case of an accident, the commercial advises: “1- Go inside 2- Shut doors and windows 3 – Turn off air conditioners, heaters or ventilation system and 4 – Tune in for information.” That’s it.
In a strange way, “Shelter in Place” is a microcosm of life in a chemical community – go home and watch tee vee while we poison you to death. I can imagine there are any number of regionalists out there listening to my lurid descriptions and clicking their tongues over the ignorant Southerners in Louisiana. Hold on a moment, please. I first encountered “Shelter in Place” in East Liverpool, Ohio in 1992. East Liverpool is home to the world’s largest hazardous waste incinerator. The incinerator sits 1,000 feet from an elementary school. When the incinerator blows up – as all incinerators eventually do – the teachers are supposed to gather the children inside, close the windows, turn on the tee vee and – this is a bonus – put duct tape around the windows. The incinerator operator, Waste Technologies Incorporated, even paid for the duct tape. Now there’s a company with heart.
Out here in the enlightened Northwest, the Weyerhauser Company’s Longview pulp mill sent 4,200 pounds of chlorine gas wafting toward town in July 1994. The fire department and office of emergency services responded and Weyerhauser sent them away, claiming there was no accident. Four thousand, two hundred pounds of chlorine gas went out the spout and no one from Weyerhauser called the people from emergency services until two days later.
If you’re like me, “Shelter in Place” reminds you of the asinine “Duck and Cover” schemes of the 1950s. The similarities are many but I think the most important is that both schemes remind us to look at the bigger picture. Ducking and covering will not protect you from nuclear war. You have to get out from under that desk and work for nuclear disarmament, and many of us have. Sheltering in place will not protect us from toxics in our community, so turn off the tee vee, open the door and get out there and work for clean technology.
Helter Shelter
The more I read the newspapers, the more I keep coming back to the same question: If agricultural chemicals are so safe, why do members of anti-government militias keep using them to make bombs? If it’s not a report from the McVeigh trial, then it’s the Republic of Texas or another clutch of wackos here in the Pacific Northwest.
Last week’s newspaper carried a report of an explosion at a pesticide factory in Arkansas that killed three fire fighters. A toxic cloud rose over the town and sent residents to the hospital, poisoned by fumes. Obviously, these folks didn’t know how to shelter in place. Wherever you have large facilities producing or using toxic chemicals there is the potential for an accident. You would think the companies which operate these facilities would feel an obligation to their employees and their communities. Perhaps they would donate money to the local fire department or office of emergency services. Down on the “chemical corridor” along the Mississippi in Louisiana, the chemical facilities – jammed together like New Yorkers on a subway – could share the cost of protecting their communities. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. The chemical companies are protecting their bottom line, so they developed “Shelter in Place.” Television commercials in Louisiana advertise the “shelter in place” concept. In case of an accident, the commercial advises: “1- Go inside 2- Shut doors and windows 3 – Turn off air conditioners, heaters or ventilation system and 4 – Tune in for information.” That’s it.
In a strange way, “Shelter in Place” is a microcosm of life in a chemical community – go home and watch tee vee while we poison you to death. I can imagine there are any number of regionalists out there listening to my lurid descriptions and clicking their tongues over the ignorant Southerners in Louisiana. Hold on a moment, please. I first encountered “Shelter in Place” in East Liverpool, Ohio in 1992. East Liverpool is home to the world’s largest hazardous waste incinerator. The incinerator sits 1,000 feet from an elementary school. When the incinerator blows up – as all incinerators eventually do – the teachers are supposed to gather the children inside, close the windows, turn on the tee vee and – this is a bonus – put duct tape around the windows. The incinerator operator, Waste Technologies Incorporated, even paid for the duct tape. Now there’s a company with heart.
Out here in the enlightened Northwest, the Weyerhauser Company’s Longview pulp mill sent 4,200 pounds of chlorine gas wafting toward town in July 1994. The fire department and office of emergency services responded and Weyerhauser sent them away, claiming there was no accident. Four thousand, two hundred pounds of chlorine gas went out the spout and no one from Weyerhauser called the people from emergency services until two days later.
If you’re like me, “Shelter in Place” reminds you of the asinine “Duck and Cover” schemes of the 1950s. The similarities are many but I think the most important is that both schemes remind us to look at the bigger picture. Ducking and covering will not protect you from nuclear war. You have to get out from under that desk and work for nuclear disarmament, and many of us have. Sheltering in place will not protect us from toxics in our community, so turn off the tee vee, open the door and get out there and work for clean technology.