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Eco-hero, minus the cape

TEMPE — Steve Brittle once marshaled an entire Arizona town to shoot video of an environmental catastrophe to get the attention of the authorities.

Eleven years later, this self-proclaimed “hell-raiser” is still digging up dirt on industrial contamination around Arizona, and he shared his adventures at a recent Arizona State University lecture entitled, “Seeking Justice in Arizona.”

Brittle, now 57, is the co-founder and president of Don’t Waste Arizona, a nonprofit that promotes public awareness of environmental hazards facing Arizona’s natural resources by tracking the activities of big polluters since 1990.

“It was a matter of keeping the issues in front of the public, and not letting them get away with it,” Brittle said.

As an Air force brat, Brittle says he quickly learned about racism at a young age. He attended to a segregated school for part of his life in Florida. Brittle said this became an integral part of his social upbringing before heading to college at the University of Nevada at Las Vegas. He earned a bachelor’s degree in history there in 1973 and also studied environmental science.

His activist track record spans several Arizona issues and towns. Brittle says he has worked to help get 180 homes and four schools decontaminated. Some very specific movements he is known for are Victims of the ‘92 Toxic Fires, What Goes on at Night Can Kill You and Hayden’s Nightmare. All of them deal with various toxic pollutants creating a public health scare.

In 1992, he helped form a group called the Concerned Residents of South Phoenix (CRSP) to inform people of the environmental issues that were occurring from a toxic chemical fire there. Brittle says the chemicals affected a predominantly black and Hispanic neighborhood.

Brittle said most of the houses were filled with chemicals in the air ducts. Hydrogen fluoride was produced, and four years later, the chemicals were still there. When Brittle noticed he had a sore that didn’t heal, he went to a meeting with other neighbors to, “raise hell.”

“I’ve always been a hell-raiser, never been arrested for it,” Brittle quipped.

The CRSP, Concerned Residents of South Phoenix, confirmed that the death percentage increased in their neighborhood. Researchers also proved that the death rate rose since the incident.

Another awareness project Brittle was involved in focused on sand and gravel industry on 51st Avenue, along the Salt River bed and Sun City. It was called What Goes on at Night Can Kill You, based on a video that shows the dust spewed from the projects at overnight.

Hayden’s Nightmare is also an area that many citizens have a high risk of obtaining lung cancer. Brittle said companies tried to blame it on smoking, but that a testing center which analyzed blood from newborn babies in the area were inconclusive. Brittle said when he goes to Hayden; he has to sleep the next day because of all the chemicals.

Regardless of the outcome, Brittle’s tactics are what draws headlines. During the Hayden project, he, his camera crew, and several Hayden residents went around town videotaping environmental issues associated with toxic chemicals.

The town council called an emergency meeting because its members saw the camera crew. Police officers stopped by and ran his plates. The whole operation with the toxic chemicals in Hayden turned off and they have significantly won the battle.

“People want us to do something, so they call and we go after things,” Brittle said.

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>>Email the editor at aklaw@zoniereport.com.

Smoking ban impact minimal, study shows

A statewide smoking ban enacted last year had little economic effect on Arizona’s bars and restaurants, according to the results of a new study by the Arizona Department of Health Services.

Despite what opponents of the ban expected, few businesses surveyed cited the Smoke-Free Arizona Act as their main cause for economic hardship.

The study, which was conducted by Arizona State University’s W.P. Carey School of Business, used sales records and surveys to collect information. The surveys and sales records both show no major trend that would suggest the smoking ban had a negative economic effect on bars and restaurants.

The study found bars were four times more likely to list the smoking ban as a major cause for declining sales than restaurants.

Of the 450 businesses surveyed in 2008, less than five percent said the smoking ban was the biggest factor impacting their business.

Almost 30 percent of businesses said economic conditions had the biggest impact, while nine percent said gasoline prices were to blame for losses.

Chris Kuhlman, a 27-year-old Tempe bar patron and regular smoker, says his bar attendance has not been affected by the smoking ban. Bars accommodate to smokers with outdoor patios and seating, he says.

Kuhlman said the ban is a step in the right direction. "Servers don’t need to suck down second hand smoke from their patrons," he says.

One establishment that was surveyed for the study revealed that business was actually better since the smoking ban, due to their ample outdoor seating.

Gavin Rutledge, managing owner of Tempe’s Casey Moore’s, says the citywide ban in Tempe initially hurt his business. But Rutledge built an outside bar for the customers on the patio, who are primarily smokers, and because of their willingness to adapt business is booming, he says.

Rutledge says he understands that people like to smoke when they are drinking. "I am one of the few bar owners that will tell you that I like the ban though," he says. "I care about my employees. We’re like a family and they don’t need to be surrounded by the smoke."

Rutledge says he has noticed an overall downward trend in smoking in recent years. "You have to go out back now to smoke," he says. "It’s like leprosy."

Though 38 of the businesses that were surveyed in 2007 had closed by 2008, none of them said the smoking ban was the reason for their doors closing.

In 2008, some establishments also cited DUI and employer sanctions laws as major factors contributing to economic hardship.

Tom Rex, Assistant Director at the Center for Competitive and Prosperity Research at ASU, worked on the study for the ADHS. He says the study tried to limit bias because it "requires respondents to bring [the ban] up themselves with an open ended question."

Rex also says the recent economic downturn made analyzing the sales data more complicated because it changed too many variables, such as consumer spending and employment, during one fiscal year.

The data also showed a sharp decrease in revenue around the winter holiday season. The decrease is cyclical, according to the study, due in large part to increased retail spending and seasonal residents leaving.

A press release from the ADHS said that businesses and smokers have both been compliant with the act.

In the release, Bill J. Pfeifer, President and CEO of the American Lung Association of Arizona, says the study shows that bars and restaurants can co-exist successfully with the smoking ban. "My hope is that Arizona will now become one more example of how the creation of a smoke-free state can be done without having a serious impact on local businesses," he says.

Toxic rock soils town, Colorado River

CIBOLA – When Ron Swan first found this tiny riverside town in 1970, he was struck by its remote beauty and fertile lands. The jagged Trigo Mountains loomed off in the distance, and wild ponies and burros would soon roam freely in a wildlife refuge nearby.

Swan took one more look at his life in arid Casa Grande and never looked back.

“Water,” he says simply. “There’s a river here and an opportunity to really farm…In June, I’ll have been here 35 years, so I guess I like it.”

Today, Swan is 74. He runs one of the largest businesses in town, River Bottom Farms. It grows alfalfa, cotton, corn, wheat and Bermuda grass on the Arizona side of the Colorado River.

But Swan, like most of Cibola’s 200 residents, unknowingly face a colossal public health hazard.

The entire town – from its front yards to its unpaved streets – is covered with manganese, an element used mainly as an alloy in steel. It can be toxic if ingested or inhaled in even modest quantities. A few tablespoons of the stuff can pollute an entire swimming pool.

For years, this flaky, dark-colored ore has been spread all over Cibola as dust-control in a dusty town. Farming equipment grinds it up into dust that floats around people and crops. During the rainy season, washes that are normally dry deliver it to the Colorado River floodplain.

Long-term inhalation of unsafe levels of manganese have been shown to clog the lungs, damage the central nervous system and human reproduction or inhibit learning ability in children, according to the few studies conducted by Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. There’s even a condition called “manganism,” which is due to chronic exposure suffered mostly by miners.

Although some government officials are aware of Cibola’s problem, they have yet to host a public meeting on the subject. Interviews and public records suggest that officials are unable to pin the liability on anyone, and that no solution is in sight.

Public records also show that the federal Bureau of Land Management, which owns and operates most of the land surrounding Cibola, has been aware of the problem since August 2002 but done little to address it for lack of Congressional funds.

A state investigation brought the issue back to the forefront. And it shows that in a town full of ghost stories, the tale of Cibola’s manganese problem is only too real.

A HISTORY OF FARMING, MINING

Cibola dates back to the late 1880s, when settlers moved to the region to farm along the riverbank and mine the mineral-rich Trigo Mountains. Its name is derived from the 14th-century expeditions Spanish explorers made of the Southwest in search of the Seven Cities of Gold. They found Native American tribes instead.

But Cibola’s townsfolk persevered centuries after the Spanish left. Around 1900, they built a steamboat landing to move goods up and down the river. They built a 16-mile canal from the river to their farms (which ultimately failed) and a bridge to move goods across the Colorado into California (which was too low for boats to pass under).

By the late 1950s, mining had caught up to farming as one of Cibola’s leading industries, thanks to a stockpiling program initiated by the Department of Defense in the name of national security. With the Cold War heating up, the federal government was paying twice the market rate for manganese – an alloy in steel used for everything from heavy equipment to semiconductors – and then transporting it to larger piles in remote locations.

Miners in towns like Cibola responded by scrambling out into the hills, staking new claims or digging without permission. The piles grew and grew as miners cashed in; most of Cibola’s manganese tailings ended up in a massive stockpile near Wendon, Ariz., according to officials for the state Department of Mines and Mineral Resources.

But pay dirt quickly became dirt again. The U.S. government ended its subsidy of the national stockpiling program, and miners walked off the job in Cibola in 1959.

Yet the manganese piles remained, a hulking pile of toxic rock just a mile or so from Cibola Lake and the Colorado River. People drove ATVs around and over them, used them as a backdrop for makeshift shooting ranges and, eventually, tapped them as groundcover to knock the dust down in Cibola.

AUTHORITIES AWARE, UNABLE TO HELP

A state investigation now shows that federal officials first caught wind of the ad hoc gravel pit’s existence in August 2002. That’s when Lowell Jeffcoat, a BLM hazardous materials coordinator, wrote to his superiors after noticing that large amounts of the manganese had eroded into a nearby wash that feeds the Colorado River.

At the time, Jeffcoat said it was a threat to water quality and the riparian habitat of the Cibola National Wildlife Refuge nearby. Two months later, soil samples taken at the site indicated manganese levels exceeded safe levels.

Shortly after the results were in, BLM employees reported a strange occurrence at the site. They noticed about 10,000 tons of manganese tailings had disappeared, and that two men in a green pickup truck and a white dump truck had hauled off a load of the material, according to an inter-office email at the time. The memo also mentioned that the material was spread all over Cibola.

In January 2003, BLM employees notified officials with the Arizona State Land Department – which also owns land that one of the mines sat on – and the Department of Health Services in nearby Imperial County, Calif. The health official dismissed their environmental concerns, but BLM employees fretted about people inhaling manganese dust, according to a recent state investigation.

In June 2003, the firm studying the soil samples confirmed the BLM employees’ fears. The agency pledged $100,000 to help clean up the site with monies available in March 2005.

But Jeffcoat was eventually transferred to the BLM’s Utah office, and neither of the piles were ever fully contained and capped, BLM officials told TZR recently.

Then, on June 13, 2007, the phone rang inside ADEQ’s Solid Waste Inspections and Compliance Unit. The anonymous caller had a tip: Manganese tailings were on the roads and most of the yards in Cibola, Ariz.

Twelve days later, an ADEQ team was in town collecting soil samples that would ultimately lead to the most detailed look at Cibola’s toxic problem.

TZR obtained the results of that investigation under a state public records request. The details of that report make up the bulk of this story.

MANGANESE LEVELS UNSAFE

Just days after Thanksgiving in 2007, five inspectors from ADEQ set out for Cibola. The town is about 30 miles south of Ehrenberg, which is where they met officials from BLM and La Paz County, which manages the unincorporated town of Cibola.

From there the group headed south for a tour of the manganese piles and roads and yards of Cibola. It visited two manganese piles, the county’s public works gravel pit, an old rock quarry and four locations within Cibola, including the town’s main trailer park, roads and bridge.

Investigators found that the concentrations of manganese in the soils near the piles and in the washes were between five and seven times the safe levels for residential remediation. Arsenic levels were also highly unsafe.

They were also able to match the manganese from the piles to the gravel covering the Cibola’s yards and roads.

“In places, it appears the tailing piles are partially situated in the historic drainage path of the wash,” wrote ADEQ compliance coordinator Henry Darwin in his Jan. 10 summary. “If the tailings continue to remain in an un-stabilized condition, then erosive processes will continue to transport them to the wash.

“ADEQ believes this material could become an air quality concern if the same material becomes further broken up and crushed by vehicles,” Darwin adds.

During the visit, La Paz County Public Works director Tom Simmons told investigators that over the years, three different independent contractors working under a county road maintenance contract spread the manganese throughout Cibola, and that the companies were no longer in business because their proprietors had died.

The state investigation connected the dots and caught everyone by surprise – including Simmons himself.

“I was flabbergasted,” he told TZR months later. “I was probably the most surprised person in the world. Honestly, I had no idea.”

QUICK CLEANUP IS FAR OFF

Local, state and federal officials agree that there are two ways to solve Cibola’s manganese problem: Crews can either dig up the roads and haul the waste off to a special treatment facility, or they can cap all of the roads and yards with a glue-like sealant or pavement. [Simmons and interim La Paz County Manager Donna Hale say they are waiting from guidance from state and federal officials.]

But both of those solutions cost money that officials for the agencies involved say they don’t have. And that excludes the costs to fence off and seal the manganese mills themselves.

In addition, officials don’t have anyone to hold liable – and thus extract money from – because there is no documentation supporting the manganese mill’s existence, says William Harris, who now leads the BLM’s hazardous material program in Phoenix.

Harris says that at least $200,000 is needed to seal up the larger manganese pile for good. “But for us, that’s a lot of money to secure,” he adds.

That’s because his agency only receives about $2 million to $5 million annually to cap thousands of mines nationwide. In Arizona alone, state mine officials believe there are 100,000 abandoned mines.
Harris says there are about 20,000 abandoned mines on BLM land in Arizona.

That means there is a waiting list, and priority is given to those mines that pose a greater threat to the environment.

Most of the BLM’s mine cleanup money is currently being used to clean up lead and arsenic at Saginaw Hill outside Tucson, Harris says. Any future funding for other mines would literally require an act of Congress.

Harris says Cibola’s best shot at getting money from Congress would fall under the groundwater effects of the manganese piles, not the public inhalation of manganese dust.

But even if Harris’ agency received congressional funding for Cibola’s manganese piles today, it would take six to nine months to clean it up the mess, Harris says.

As a backup plan, Harris says he is negotiating with a branch of the Department of Defense that cleans up and processes these abandoned stockpiles of raw materials. However, the manganese in and around Cibola is of a lower grade – about 20 percent pure – that is not marketable, according to state mining officials and Richard Farkas, a local mining expert in Cibola.

So the chances of re-processing Cibola’s tailings for a commercial profit seem slim. Yet Harris says the cleanup discussions include Cibola’s manganese piles and two other stockpiles in Arizona.

Either way, Cibola’s townsfolk must wait for solution as they enter another dry, hot and dusty summer.

“We’re not ignoring them,” Harris says of Cibola’s townsfolk. “They’re on our radar screen. They’re in our long-term plan. It’s all about funding.”

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>>Email the editor at aklaw@zoniereport.com.

Feds seek money, cleanup from Winslow

WINSLOW — If you’re standing on the corner in Winslow, Ariz., pick the one furthest from the site of that legendary Eagles tune.

That’s because a recent lawsuit claims city officials and the owner of a dingy apartment complex failed to report or contain asbestos after the building was torn down.

Attorneys for the Justice Department say Winslow officials and apartment owner William R. Christie Sr. did not notify them of the project while burning chunks of asbestos-laden walls without watering them down.

They believe it resulted into a massive release of asbestos into the air.

The case began in early 2002, when the city declared Christie’s Apache Apartment complex uninhabitable. Officials said the nine-unit building was a “public nuisance” that needed to be torn down.

Demolition lasted from June through September 2002. Authorities are seeking thousands of dollars in fines as punishment.

Anti-drug campaign targets meth users

PHOENIX — Danika was one of the lucky ones. She got out alive. Unfortunately, many never make it that far.

“I first tried meth when I was 14. Within a month I was using everyday. My addiction progressed really fast,” says Danika, a recovering methamphetamine addict who agreed to speak with TZR as long her last name was withheld.

Phoenix police Commander Chris Crockett says the average age of the first-time user is 14, and nearly 90 percent of those who try the drug for a first time eventually become addicted.

Methamphetamine is creeping into the lives of Arizona children and families at an alarming rate. It follows a tragic national trend that indicates 1 in 33 teenagers have tried the drug.
As a result, Valley officials and media have partnered in the fight to protect youth by launching the Crystal Darkness campaign.

The collaboration brings members of the law enforcement, government, media, education, and recovery industries to support the production of Crystal Darkness , a sobering 30-minute documentary on the dangers of methamphetamine, commonly known as meth.

The program targets youth and their families and exposes the devastating meth problem in the United States.

“We’ve done a good job of locking up the bad guys, but we still need to do a better job on the prevention side,” Crockett says.

The mini-documentary, which airs April 15, will reach residents across the state in unprecedented numbers. It will be broadcast simultaneously at 6:30 p.m. on nearly every network-affiliated and locally owned Arizona television station in a media blitz. It will also be transmitted on 20 radio stations.

The message is told through the compelling testimonies of young meth addicts and the families who have suffered alongside them. Recovering youth shed light on the depths of addiction with the hope that others will find strength in their stories.

On the night of the broadcast, there will be a panel of speakers at the Phoenix Convention Center and a telethon. The call center will operate from 2 p.m. to 10 p.m. and will give callers direction on how to seek help for themselves or others.

There’s even a sports connection. Former Phoenix Suns owner Jerry Colangelo has been an active presence in the Crystal Darkness project. In January, he hosted a breakfast that raised $60,000. Now he plans to host a VIP luncheon the day the program airs.

The goal is to raise $150,000 to distribute three million educational booklets and flyers to students statewide in kindergarten through grade 12. The funds will also support other drug prevention programs.

The Crystal Darkness movement has quickly spread through the West. Participating states include California, Nevada, New Mexico and Oregon.

Nevada was the first to host the media blitz on Jan. 9, 2007. Although the results will be measured over time, officials say Nevada’s campaign created a blueprint for other states to build on.

Arizona has invited prevention specialists from around the country to observe how the campaign works so they can take the model back to their states.

Crockett says Arizona’s close proximity to Mexico is a contributing factor to the increased availability of meth. The drug is smuggled across the border and shipped to other Western states.

Meth is also produced in dangerous neighborhood home labs that pose an imminent fire threat and are extremely volatile. Officials have been able to curtail the availability of these makeshift laboratories by restricting the sale of items used in the production process, such as the cold medicine pseudoephedrine.

Meth addiction progresses quickly, causing severe moral regressions, aggression, paranoia and anxiety in its users.

The drug creates a feeling of euphoria when ingested by stimulating the central nervous system. Prolonged abuse can result in schizophrenia and permanent brain damage. Other side effects include a decreased appetite, acne and sores.

“My morals completely changed. I would lie, steal and sleep around. I was a completely different person,” Danika says.

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>>Email the editor at aklaw@zoniereport.com.