Submitted by: Mark Biagi
The trip began without incident. When the group met at Sydney
Airport, it was evident that excitement was high, with everyone
anticipating the events that were to take place in the days ahead.
The flight was a little late in departing and upon arrival in Halifax
we were immediately ushered to our connecting flight. I
appreciated this as I don't like hanging around airport lounges.
The trip to Boston was uneventful, with all subsequent flights and
arrivals on schedule.
In Boston, we all went through Immigration without a problem and
took the bus to the terminal for our next flight. At this point the
group decided to get the boarding passes right away and then stop
at the restaurant for a bite to eat. All except Sister Ellen. She was
bound and determined to go for a walk and a little fresh air. At the
end of the meal, we decided to go through airport security to the
departure gate. No sign of Sister Ellen, so Shirley, Sharon and I
decided to go looking for her. I had her tickets and boarding
passes, and was assured that Sister could not pass through security
without them. We paged Sister Ellen twice. At the last moment, we
decided that we would have to go to gate without the good Sister..
We notified all the Delta agents to keep an eye out for her. When we
got to the gate, there she was -- in the process of getting more tickets
issued for her to get on the plane. I am sure that God was traveling
piggyback on the Sister. How she got through security I don't know.
The important thing is that we were all together and well, someone
has to be the last to board the plane.
The flight to Atlanta was long enough to warrant viewing "Leave it
to Beaver". After landing we made sure that we had the Sister
close at hand and, once again, proceeded to the appropriate
terminal. John was dry so we ducked into the nearest bar. Here we
met with Elizabeth May, Neal Livingstone, the writer Lewis
Regenstein (publisher of several environmental books) and Lewis'
girlfriend. The Sister was once again gone in search of (slightly
polluted) fresh air. We decided to have a hearty supper before
leaving for Macon but since the restaurant was in the main
terminal, we had to retrace our steps. Finally, we broke bread with
the newly-found Sister Ellen. Curiously enough, as we went
through security this time, Sister was pulled to one side and given
the full search service. No stripping but almost. The trip to Macon
was on a small airplane. The Sister complained that they did not
even give her peanuts on the flight. She's so cute.
We finally arrived in Macon, where we were met by John McCown,
the Sierra Club representative. After collecting our bags (minus
one of Neal's cameras) we drove to Fort Valley in a very
comfortable van and delivered to our Bed-and-Breakfast. This
beautiful mansion was built during the early 1900s and was the
home of the "Peach King". A truly sumptuous home. The owner
suits the premises. Although very polite and friendly, she definitely
lets you know that she is in charge. We were shown to our rooms to
settle in. After a few moments, we returned to the downstairs lobby
where we met Marvin Crafter. A huge man, with a heart to match
and a gargantuan conviction that God has placed him where he is,
so that he may fight for the welfare of the community where he
grew up.
Marvin Crafter is the local environmental activist and town
counselor. After the traditional introductions we sat down to
business. Marvin is the head of a group of concerned citizens -- 600
strong and still growing. He introduces us to the Super Fund site in
the center of their community. Like ours, this site is the legacy of
decades of industrial development. Marvin fills us in on some of the
basic information. Beside the high levels of arsenic in the ground,
the ground water, and the residences surrounding the site, there are
46 other contaminating chemicals. The community has repeatedly
requested the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and the
Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR) to
consider these 46 chemicals as part of the problem. Yet these
agencies are determined to ignore them, concentrating instead on
the arsenic. One reason for this myopic view is that many of the
diseases affecting the community cannot be directly linked to the
arsenic in the environment. In other words, it is a way to avoid
corporate liability for the contamination.
The company responsible for the contamination is Reichold
Canadyne, now owned by a Japanese consortium called Dia Nippon
Inc. The plant produced a variety of chemical components
including pesticides, agent orange and chemical components for
chemical warfare weapons.
The group is up at 8:00 am. and ready to go. Breakfast is served at
8:30 and thoroughly enjoyed by all. After the meal, Sister Ellen,
John, and I decide to go for a quick walk around the neighborhood.
The air is crispy cold, while the bursts of wind remind one of home.
Yet the day is sunny and, surprisingly enough, there are many roses
and pansies still in bloom. Sister Ellen makes a point of looking at
every flower she casts eyes on. It is truly a pleasure to be with
someone who can extract so much joy from the simple things in life.
As we walk along the street, we notice a dramatic change in both
the architecture and the cleanliness of our surroundings. The
sidewalks disappear and the presence of paper and other trash
becomes more evident. We have obviously moved into a poorer
part of the neighborhood. One of the most striking aspects of the
walk is the abundance of large pine trees. Sister Ellen is amused by
the size of the pine cones and collects as many as she can carry.
John Martell encourages, who by now is plotting the best way to
smuggle these treasures back to Canada.
We are scheduled to go to the Shilo Baptist Church at 11:00. John
picks us up at 10:30, and we are among the first to enter the church.
We benefit from what seems to be a lesson in the scriptures. One
man is reading from the Bible and explaining the scripture to
several other parishioners, all of whom are oblivious to the people
entering the church. The women are all dressed up in their finest
clothes. One of the most striking features of their dress are the
hats. Very, very fancy hats. As the service begins there is a lot of
singing by the congregation. One person takes the lead and the rest
follow. It is very uplifting. After a couple of songs and a short
sermon, the preacher walks in, addresses the congregation and sits
down. A woman approaches the microphone, asking us to please
stand and address the community in our own words.
Elizabeth May began the introduction by explaining our purpose in
visiting Fort Valley. When my turn came, I spoke about the
environment and our responsibility to clean it up for our children. I
also stated my conviction that a community must take charge of its
own clean-up. It struck me, while I was speaking, that I felt rather
strange. Then it hit me: everyone in the congregation was nodding
their heads in approval of my words. This is strange for me,
because I usually get some nods, a few blank faces, several upset
expressions mixed in with irate ones and, occasionally, one or two
shaken fists.
The service lasted 3 ½ - 4 hours. The sermon alone lasted close to a
hour, but was very powerful. This experience was one that I will
cherish for several years. The congregation's participation is quite
fantastic.
After church we returned to Macon, where Neal recovered his lost
camera. From there, we went to the Museum of African American
Art. The artifacts in the museum are primarily from Africa with a
few representing the days of slavery. There are plenty of photos
and stories about exemplary African Americans and their
contribution to the United States. From the museum we tried to
enter the Georgia Music Hall of Fame but it was closed. We
returned to the Bed and Breakfast in Fort Valley, where we
continued to talk to Marvin and John about the current situation
with the super fund site in the community.
Later on that evening, we decided to have supper at Pizza Hut
because Sister Ellen was looking for a baked potato, and there were
none to be had at the Shrimp Boat restaurant. No potato. When
Shirley asked for a cup of tea, Marvin pointed out that she was
asking for hot tea, not iced tea. I was sitting in front of her when
they brought a 2 litre jug, full of boiled instant iced tea. This was
certainly a first. Shirley turned to me, her face full of polite
resignation. That must have been the worst cup of tea the poor
woman has ever had to drink.
We are up early and once again given a wonderful breakfast. John
whisks us off to the Fort Valley State University where we will have
the seminars. The day begins with a prayer from both our spiritual
leaders. Reverend Hillsman prays for the successful outcome of
this exchange. Shirley begins her prayer with an offering of
tobacco to the spirits of the four cardinal points, asking for wisdom
and success. After a couple of songs, we are treated to the sweet
grass ceremony. After we have all been smudged and purified, we
sit down to begin the workshops.
The first presentation is by Kyle Bryant, a university student who
has taken this super fund site as part of his university project. He
explains that the chemical plant began production back in 1910 and
has been contaminating Fort Valley ever since. This is a project
which clearly exemplifies the term "Environmental Racism:"
The chemical plant is located on the side of the tracks that separates
the white and black communities.
Most of the contamination is concentrated within the
African-American neighborhood.
The highest percentage of low income and illiterate people are
located in the African- American neighborhood.
Both Government agencies and the companies offer systematic
denial and misinformation with regard to the human impact of
the contamination.
GIS maps prepared by Mr. Bryant clearly show that this trend
occurs not only in Fort Valley, but across the entire United States.
In response, citizens created the Environmental Justice Program, to
challenge the proliferation of hazardous waste dumps in
disadvantaged communities. The program also targets industries
that are not run properly or are considered as industrial polluters.
Kyle tells us that the site is 36 acres (ha.) in size and contains
approximately 37,000y3 ( m3) of soil, contaminated with lead and
arsenic at concentrations above 10,000 ppm. Kyle's presentation
showed us the various statistical calculations for the levels of
hazardous waste contamination across the tracks, both in the
ground and in the homes. In the toxicological studies, neither the
EPA nor the ATSDR are willing to consider the other 47 chemicals
mixed in with the arsenic.
The community of Fort Valley suspects that the reason for their
refusal is because many of the diseases present in the community
cannot be directly linked to the primary contaminant: arsenic.
There has also been a misinformation campaign against the need to
investigate the impact that such a combination of chemicals may
have on human health. This steam-rolling was most evident during
the construction of a public library right across from the
contaminated site. (This building was built in part by the chemical
company. As it happens, the library's location makes it a
sophisticated cap, which will save the company between 5-10
million dollars in clean-up costs.)
Meanwhile, the plant continues to operate. Security and worker
safety are still very lax.
The next presentation was by our host Marvin Crafter. Once
again, Marvin explained how the contaminated site came to be; the
resistance by the government agencies to recognize the severity of
the contamination; and the resistance to test the homes surrounding
the site (which would provide more, irrefutable evidence of the need
for a cleanup). When the EPA finally agreed to test the homes, they
found that some of the attics had levels of arsenic of as much as
2,500 ppm. As a result, the families living in these buildings are not
allowed in their attics!
Marvin reiterated his delight n our visit to his town and hoped that
this exchange would bring positive results for all the participants.
Bob Woodall from the Sierra Club in Atlanta made a very short
presentation, limiting his talk to indicating the Sierra Club's
willingness to help in any way it can. He also dismissed the concerns
that the Sierra Club would over-take the Environmental Justice
Program.
John McCown presentation was 2 hours. long. and so had to be
broken up into two parts. In the first half of the presentation John
introduced himself, telling the group how he had become involved
with the struggle for both human and environmental rights. He
spoke about his father's involvement with the Civil Rights
movement. He told us about the battles he had fought against the
construction of a Hazardous Waste Incinerator, a Prison and a
mega landfill in his home town of Sparta, Georgia. I believe his
intention was to indicate that there is only one way of dealing with
incessant attack by would-be polluters: to educate the community
and secure their support against those who would carry out such
contamination.
At the end of this presentation, we returned to the Shrimp Boat
restaurant for another very uneventful and uninspiring lunch.
The second part of John's presentation was on "Corporate
Accountability". He used many charts and graphs to illustrate the
power of the US Corporations. One chart compared the economies
of developing countries with corporate working budgets.
Surprisingly enough, and certainly to my surprise, corporations
such as Chrysler, Toyota, and Ford surpassed many of the
countries on the chart. Thanks to this economic power, many of
these corporations have a tremendous amount of influence on
national governments and their policies.
In the United States, corporate contributions to political campaigns
is another way in which the corporations secure control over the
government and its policies. One of the most ironic and saddest
statements I have ever heard was when John told us that Blacks in
the United States were given the status of people in the same year
that corporations received the same status.
With their immense financial and political power, corporations also
influence the performance and setup of regulatory agencies. They
can also fight public pressure through media blitzes, lobby groups
and citizen-slap suits, to mention a few. In short, Corporate
America runs the United States.
The next presenter was a man named Earl, who suffers from
Lupus. This is a disease of the immune system, associated with the
many contaminants present on the site. Earl spoke to us about
living with this debilitating and terminal disease.
Because of the over-run in time, combined with the need to get out
on the site before the light quality deteriorated, it was decided that I
would be the only presenter from the Canadian group. This must
have been a disappointment for Clotilda and Sharon, who were
scheduled to speak. As it turns out, I would have to rush through
my presentation to allow us to leave on time. I limited my talk to a
brief history of steelmaking on the island, a flash description of the
site and the contaminants present in the area, and the remediation
attempts of the past and the present. I also gave a brief description
of JAG, passing out several brochures, including the JAG
Governance model. As we left the building, a local television station
interviewed Elizabeth for the evening news.
Immediately after the presentation, the group was taken to the
contaminated site. When we arrived, a local television station was
covering the event (the same crew that had interviewed Elizabeth).
At the site Marvin and a couple of other activists explained the
problem again, this time pointing out the location of the various
facilities that they had mentioned in their presentations. The
experience was further heightened by the slight, but very
noticeable, smell of chemicals in the air.
We were then escorted to the homes of several area residents. The
first person we visited was Ms. Mary Charles.. Mary welcomed us
to her home, arranging for several more chairs to accommodate the
large number of people in her living room. She told us about her
childhood and growing up beside the chemical plant. She also spoke
about the constant smell and dust, and the proximity of the ditch
that was used as a chemical dump by the pesticide company.
Although cautioned not to play near the canal as a child, she and
her friends found their way down there anyway. During heavy
rains, however, the canal and its contents came to her instead,
flowing right to her door step. With no indoor plumbing, they had
to wade through this contaminated overflow every time they went
to the outhouse. To this day she has problems with her feet. She
finds it very uncomfortable and even painful to wear shoes. The
skin on her feet and legs is very sensitive and friction from the
shoes scrapes the skin away from the flesh, leaving open sores. She
also suffers from chronic foot infections and a constant tingling of
her feet.
One of the stories she shared with us took place when she was 6
years old. At the time the company was manufacturing a
component used in chemical warfare weapons. One morning at
about 3:00 am. there was a violent pounding on their front door.
When her mother answered the door, she started to scream, waking
up the rest of the family. As they entered the front room, they too
started to scream. At the door, a man was donning a self-contained
breathing apparatus, complete with full face mask. He screamed at
them to get out of the house and run. "The wind is blowing to the
north so run south" he said. So they did. They would run in the
dark for a couple of miles and wait in a field until it was safe to
return to their homes. This became a routine exercise, occurring
two to three times per month for several years. Finally, her
octogenarian grandfather refused to run any more, claiming to
prefer to die in his bed instead of in the middle of a field. The
family was then instructed to wet a towel with cold water, to place it
over their faces and breath through the wet towel.
Later they found out that, due to the carelessness of the workers,
the pressure of the tanks in which these chemicals were being
manufactured, would reach critical levels. The only way to prevent
an explosion was to vent the poisonous gasses into the air. The
operators would don the masks and bottled air, vent the tanks and
then go tell the community to run in the opposite direction of the
wind.
The second story she told us was more recent, involving her
disabled son. The boy was living in Atlanta and having respiratory
problems. She decided that maybe it would be better to bring him
to Fort Valley. During the next three months, the boy's condition
seemed to improve, but then he began to show signs of respiratory
distress: he could not breathe properly and would swell up. She
would take her son to the hospital where he would be treated. His
condition would deteriorate after returning home, so there were
many more trips to the hospital. The doctors suggested that the boy
might be allergic to something in the home and gave him
medication.
After several weeks of improvement, Mary decided to take the boy
out to the garden one fine day. She was working on her roses. As
the boy showed no signs of distress, she decided to call on a
neighbor to look after her son while she went shopping in Macon.
After a few hours, she returned to find her son dead.
The interview with Mary came with a surprise. Reverend Hillsman
saw it fit to share his story with us at this time, telling us that he
had lost two sons to the contamination: his oldest and youngest
boys. The little one was five months old when he died with
convulsions and tremors. "He was taken quickly," he said. The
older boy was not so lucky.
Reverend Hillsman's oldest son seemed a normal and healthy
4-year old. One day, the child returned from school with a fever
and a swollen neck. His other took him to the local doctor who
diagnosed the mumps. Mrs. Hillsman did not feel comfortable with
this diagnosis and took the boy to the hospital, where they ruled out
the mumps. They were unable to diagnose the illness however. By
this time, the child was running an uncontrolled temperature of
103°F and the doctors could not bring the temperature down. The
boy's body was swollen and purplish in color. This condition
lasted for several days, during which time the child did not speak a
word, and seemed to be sleeping. One day, and without explanation,
the boy woke up and began to speak. The continuous testing
brought on a lot of poking, prodding and pinching for the little boy.
All this unwanted attention prompted the child to ask his father not
to allow them (hospital staff) to hurt him. As mysteriously as the
child fell ill, he recovered and walked out of the hospital holding his
father's hand.
A couple of months later the boy came down with the same
symptoms once again. This meant a return to the hospital and the
battery of testing procedures. The condition persisted for several
days without yielding a cause for the ailment. The little boy's last
words to his father were "Daddy, don't you love me anymore?" By
the end of the story, several members of our party were in tears
while the rest of us choked them back.
In tears, Sharon had to leave the room. She and Sister Ellen both
found the stories a bit much to take.
Our next scheduled interview was with Ms. Ingram. This 77-year
old lady sat in a rocking chair and began to tell us about her
childhood years in the area. She remembered that her parents
could not keep the windows open for long, because of the dust
coming from the chemical plant. The ditch was also a prominent
fixture in her story. "The ditch was full of chemicals that came
from the plant" she said. "We were warned by our parents not to
get close to the plant or the ditch, but we did. Now I am the only
one alive. The rest have all died of cancer." She told us about her
Mother eventually dying of respiratory disease, the same disease
she is currently suffering from.
Ms. Ingram told us that after the rains came, the street would be
flooded by the contents of the ditch. And if the ditch didn't
overflow, then the dust which blanketed everything would be
washed along the street gutter, where she and her friends were
playing. No matter how hard they tried, they could escape the dust
or the smell. The smell, in particular, was so pervasive that no
matter how often they washed, they could not rid themselves of it.
The children were recognizable by smell and were known as the
"Dust-house kids" because they lived near the chemical plant's
dust-house. The children were not the only ones marked by the
repugnant smell. The young men who worked at the plant were
constantly exposed to and covered by the dust, permeated with the
distinctive chemical aroma.
John Martell, Neal Livingstone and Clotilda had a chance to speak
with yet another resident of the area, who told them her name was
Big Mama. Although I was not privy to their conversation, I
assume that the story was similar to the ones we had already heard.
At the end of the day, we tried to get some shopping in but were
unable to do so. The weather deteriorated as it began to rain. We
arrived at the Bed and Breakfast, where Sister Ellen was again
bound and determined to have a baked potato. Our hostess
recommended a restaurant not far from where we were. We had a
wonderful meal and actually got the restaurant to prepare five
specially- baked potatoes for Sister Ellen. And yes, Shirley got her
cup of hot tea -- a proper cup of tea.
Upon our return from the restaurant, Marvin presented us with a
good-bye present: cans of genuine Georgian pecans. We said our
good-byes and assured him that we would be waiting for him in
Nova Scotia.
This day, we arose early, to take the first flight out of Macon. We
thanked John for his hospitality and good humor. We then traveled
to Atlanta, where we said good-bye to Elizabeth and Neal, then
continued on Boston, Saint John, Halifax and finally Sydney. I
believe that a special bond emerged among those of us who shared
in this experience. I can only hope that this bond is strong enough,
or at least flexible enough, to withstand the turbulent times ahead.
General Comments
It is clear that this is only the first half of the Toxic Exchange
Project; still, we must start taking advantage of the education
obtained.
If there was one aspect that came through crystal clear during this
visit, it was the human suffering and sacrifice endured by the Fort
Valley community. The stories were powerful enough to touch our
primal emotions; for a moment, we were all on the same plane of
understanding. Barriers and divisive opinions were banished, and
the feeling of solidarity was easily felt.
I am sure that equally moving stories can be extracted from our
Sydney community, providing that the chronicles are obtained as
the result of an honest search for the human experience, rather
than as research data. It is my opinion and recommendation that
the Sierra Club promote and encourage the collection and
recording of this collective history.
The results from this toxic exchange must also be widely distributed
and similar projects encouraged between communities living with
the toxic legacy of corporations. I would like to see this experience
repeated between communities in Canada, with the goal of
establishing a "Canadian Toxic Exchange Network". The goal of
such a network would be to funnel information, community support
and political pressure, from the grass roots up.
