Post by Okwes on Apr 1, 2007 22:40:21 GMT -5
Tons of toxic sludge link U.S., Canadian Indian tribes Originally
An Indian tribe blames industrial pollution for widespread illness. A
child dies of a rare leukemia. Land that sustained ancestors for
thousands of years, locals complain, is no longer fit to fish or hunt.
But these aren't the Ramapough Mountain Indians of Upper
Ringwood, N.J. They are Chippewas, members of the Aamjiwnaang First
Nation in Canada.
Tons of the toxic paint sludge dug out of the Ramapoughs' Ringwood
neighborhood have been buried in a landfill near the Chippewas' reserve
in Sarnia. A relief for one community, a burden for another.
The landfill is just one of a litany of worries for a community of
nearly 1,000 people hemmed in by dozens of oil refineries, chemical
factories, natural-gas wells and toxic cleanup sites here in Canada's
"Chemical Valley." The Aamjiwnaang blame this industrial overload for
high asthma rates and reduced life spans.
The dump, the industries and the sludge from New Jersey are all examples
of how the worst pollution often ends up among those with the least
clout, some here say.
"There's a common thread" between the Ramapoughs and the Chippewas, says
Ron Plain, chairman of the Aamjiwnaang environmental committee. "We're
not afforded any human rights."
The operators of the Clean Harbors landfill, however, don't think it is
a threat.
The commercial hazardous-waste dump is 3 1/2 miles from the reserve,
amid a wide-open stretch of farm fields. The smokestack atop its
incinerator rises 225 feet into the sky, the highest point for miles.
Clean Harbors takes the worst of the worst from the Great Lakes region -
waste from auto plants, refineries, foundries and chemical makers. The
company buried 190,000 tons of hazardous waste in 2005. It burned 90,000
more.
More than 5,000 tons of Ringwood's sludge has been brought here because
it's too toxic - even after processing in Michigan - for burial in the
United States.
When the trucks roll into Clean Harbors, an on-site lab tests samples.
Material that passes muster is pushed into 60-foot-deep pit by
bulldozers.
The landfill doesn't have the geosynthetic liners required of most dumps
in the U.S. and Canada. Until recently, Ontario didn't require treatment
of the waste buried here to make it less toxic, as other states and
provinces do.
But the landfill is carved into a 120-foot-deep layer of natural clay
and chalk, a unique geologic feature that the company claims makes it
perhaps the safest hazardous waste dump in North America. The waste is
topped with an additional 20 feet of clay. Toxic liquids that percolate
out are collected and incinerated. The company also tests grass and
leaves outside the site to ensure chemicals aren't spreading.
"I always put us second only to the nuclear industry as far as
regulatory controls," said Donald Schwieg, a Clean Harbors vice
president. "There's no environmental impact from this site."
There have been problems. Clean Harbors agreed to donate $60,000 to
environmental groups last year for failing to properly report waste
imported from the U.S. In 1999, farmers parked their tractors outside
the gates to protest contaminated water and methane gas leaks.
Some neighbors don't mind the landfill. The waste "has to go somewhere,"
said Bill Allingham. "If you don't want it, then the best darn cure is
to quit your consumerism. But people want and they want and they want."
Plain says people on the reserve just want the government to enforce
environmental rules and to study their health complaints - something the
Ramapoughs spent years pleading for.
Plain says his sister-in-law and mother-in-law died of cancer last year.
His cousin is in mourning for his 13-year-old grandson, who died in
November of a rare form of leukemia some studies have linked to benzene,
an industrial chemical. The boy's grave is in a cemetery beside towering
chemical tanks.
In 2005, a University of Ottawa study found women here had given birth
to twice as many girls as boys in recent years, an oddity some Chippewas
blame on pollution. The author of the study, however, says the cause is
unclear.
There's one more similarity to the Ramapoughs: People are frightened of
living amid the pollution, but they are too tied to the land to go.
"We've been here 6,000 years," Plain said. "We didn't create this. We
shouldn't have to leave."
An Indian tribe blames industrial pollution for widespread illness. A
child dies of a rare leukemia. Land that sustained ancestors for
thousands of years, locals complain, is no longer fit to fish or hunt.
But these aren't the Ramapough Mountain Indians of Upper
Ringwood, N.J. They are Chippewas, members of the Aamjiwnaang First
Nation in Canada.
Tons of the toxic paint sludge dug out of the Ramapoughs' Ringwood
neighborhood have been buried in a landfill near the Chippewas' reserve
in Sarnia. A relief for one community, a burden for another.
The landfill is just one of a litany of worries for a community of
nearly 1,000 people hemmed in by dozens of oil refineries, chemical
factories, natural-gas wells and toxic cleanup sites here in Canada's
"Chemical Valley." The Aamjiwnaang blame this industrial overload for
high asthma rates and reduced life spans.
The dump, the industries and the sludge from New Jersey are all examples
of how the worst pollution often ends up among those with the least
clout, some here say.
"There's a common thread" between the Ramapoughs and the Chippewas, says
Ron Plain, chairman of the Aamjiwnaang environmental committee. "We're
not afforded any human rights."
The operators of the Clean Harbors landfill, however, don't think it is
a threat.
The commercial hazardous-waste dump is 3 1/2 miles from the reserve,
amid a wide-open stretch of farm fields. The smokestack atop its
incinerator rises 225 feet into the sky, the highest point for miles.
Clean Harbors takes the worst of the worst from the Great Lakes region -
waste from auto plants, refineries, foundries and chemical makers. The
company buried 190,000 tons of hazardous waste in 2005. It burned 90,000
more.
More than 5,000 tons of Ringwood's sludge has been brought here because
it's too toxic - even after processing in Michigan - for burial in the
United States.
When the trucks roll into Clean Harbors, an on-site lab tests samples.
Material that passes muster is pushed into 60-foot-deep pit by
bulldozers.
The landfill doesn't have the geosynthetic liners required of most dumps
in the U.S. and Canada. Until recently, Ontario didn't require treatment
of the waste buried here to make it less toxic, as other states and
provinces do.
But the landfill is carved into a 120-foot-deep layer of natural clay
and chalk, a unique geologic feature that the company claims makes it
perhaps the safest hazardous waste dump in North America. The waste is
topped with an additional 20 feet of clay. Toxic liquids that percolate
out are collected and incinerated. The company also tests grass and
leaves outside the site to ensure chemicals aren't spreading.
"I always put us second only to the nuclear industry as far as
regulatory controls," said Donald Schwieg, a Clean Harbors vice
president. "There's no environmental impact from this site."
There have been problems. Clean Harbors agreed to donate $60,000 to
environmental groups last year for failing to properly report waste
imported from the U.S. In 1999, farmers parked their tractors outside
the gates to protest contaminated water and methane gas leaks.
Some neighbors don't mind the landfill. The waste "has to go somewhere,"
said Bill Allingham. "If you don't want it, then the best darn cure is
to quit your consumerism. But people want and they want and they want."
Plain says people on the reserve just want the government to enforce
environmental rules and to study their health complaints - something the
Ramapoughs spent years pleading for.
Plain says his sister-in-law and mother-in-law died of cancer last year.
His cousin is in mourning for his 13-year-old grandson, who died in
November of a rare form of leukemia some studies have linked to benzene,
an industrial chemical. The boy's grave is in a cemetery beside towering
chemical tanks.
In 2005, a University of Ottawa study found women here had given birth
to twice as many girls as boys in recent years, an oddity some Chippewas
blame on pollution. The author of the study, however, says the cause is
unclear.
There's one more similarity to the Ramapoughs: People are frightened of
living amid the pollution, but they are too tied to the land to go.
"We've been here 6,000 years," Plain said. "We didn't create this. We
shouldn't have to leave."