After this latest industrial disaster in Kolontar, Hungary wherein an entire town was essentially rendered uninhabitable by a spill of toxic bauxite, I was not all that surprised to hear that the Hungarian government had allegedly withheld vital information about the imminent danger to residents and cleanup workers. How bizarre to see workers pouring acid into a river to neutralize the effects of the caustic bauxite. Watching the aerial video shots of the bright red spill, I was saddened, as I am sure were the rest of the viewers. Having recently experienced the almost non stop coverage to the recent BP oil spill, I thought back to some of the man made disasters I could summon up at a moment’s notice. Of course there are the Three Mile Island, and Chernobyl power nuclear plant failures. Most people remember Love Canal, although that probably would not have been a disaster had the municipality not chosen to build a residential community over a designated hazardous waste containment site. Learning machine that I am, I Googled the subject of industrial and man made disasters, and of course found a myriad of reminders that man has a less than stellar track record preserving Mother Earth.
Most people remember the Union Carbide pesticide accident in Bhophal, India. Twenty thousand died in that disaster, poisoned as they slept. In January of 2000, an Aural mining company was responsible for a cyanide spill in Romania that released 100,000 tons of cyanide into local rivers, including the Danube (which was also threatened by this latest bauxite spill). The accident was deemed the worst environmental disaster in Europe since Chernobyl, and although no human deaths were reported (of course, the long term consequences are a little more difficult to assess), the leak killed up to 80% of aquatic life in some of the affected rivers, and who knows what it did to the food chain. Probably the strangest disaster I found was the Boston Molasses Disaster of 1919, wherein a molasses tank from the Purity Distilling Company measuring fifty feet high by ninety feet wide collapsed, spilling millions of gallons of molasses through the streets of Boston. Twenty-one people died and many more were injured when an eight foot high tidal wave of molasses spread across several city blocks of Boston. What a way to go! The force of the spill lifted a train off it’s tracks, leveled buildings, and flooded several city blocks with waist deep sticky goo. The cleanup of that mess cost 87,000 man hours.
I saw my share of hazardous waste sites when I sold and leased industrial real estate in Western New York. I lived less than thirty miles from the site of the notorious Love Canal disaster, and it still astounds me that the area is once again a thriving residential community. I know of several other hazardous waste sites in Niagara Falls. One day, early in my industrial real estate career, I was driving down Buffalo Avenue, a major industrial street in Niagara Falls, in my ’67 Triumph Spitfire with the top down. It was a beautiful summer day, and suddenly I noticed twenty or thirty guys wearing gas masks and hazmat suits, sweeping a parking lot with large push brooms. There was dust billowing up into the air and I drove by it, not one hundred yards away. Why did they not close down the street while they were releasing presumably toxic dust into the air?! When I think back to all the industrial sites I visited, I wonder how much hazardous waste I was exposed to.
Sadly, our dog Tuppy passed away peacefully at the vets last Saturday morning. It was a bit of a roller coaster ride, because the vet had finally identified the proper antibiotic to use on her, and for a while it looked like she might survive. Unfortunately, other problems became untreatable. We believe she threw a blood clot that blocked blood flow to her back end, and that was the game changer. The really tough part will be breaking it to Mom; that dog was devoted to her. The vet asked us if we want the ashes. The only pet remains on the family property at present include a small Turtle named Herman, and about one third of a rabbit named Alfie (our poodle ate the other two thirds). Both are buried in the back yard, presumably violating some city zoning ordinance. I have no desire to expand our backyard pet cemetary, so I think we’ll opt for the clay paw print ... a fitting reminder of a good and loyal friend.
On a happier note, one recent disaster had a happy ending. All 33 of those Chilean miners, trapped for 69 days in a mine collapse, were finally freed, and miraculously, they all seemed to be in good health. One guy was so happy when he was brought up, he was running around stirring up all the elated onlookers. Kudos to the people who rescued them all safely. I like it when the media focuses on a good news story.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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