[music] Welcome to GAS, the true story of a toxic train derailment. I'm Ron Scholl. Last time on GAS, chemist Garren Smith and health officials discovered chlorinated chemicals created in the mixing of chlorine and the potassium cressellate. The unwelcome news added a new layer of concern for spill victims worried about their health and safety. We now continue with part one and the conclusion of chapter 20, followed by chapter 21, chapter 20, reactions. Saturday, April 20. Smith discovered that his GCMS required a major instrument rebuild. Two organic air samples taken at the site, which seemed crucial to answering the question of what people smelled, would be sent to labs instead. The Rocky Mountain Poison Control Center sent a late afternoon bulletin to the health department about the chlorinated compounds. They wrote, "The list of compounds includes phenols and chlorifenols. Many of them have odors which could be described as pesticide-like. A small amount of these compounds is capable of producing a strong odor. Residents returning to the area surrounding the spill site are likely to notice the smell. Some of these people may have symptoms related to inhalation of these compounds and small concentrations. nausea, vomiting, headache, and dizziness could be expected. Treatment would consist primarily of removing people from the exposure to fresh air. In larger concentrations, further symptoms can be seen. Health-mat workers involved in cleaning with the site should wear protective clothing, including dermal and respiratory protection. This information was particularly belated for any unprotected workers at the site. The health department did not publicize the bulletin. That morning, Missoula Hazmat reported at Roblox 2 at Petty Creek, an odor of petroleum-based strong, they said. There were no chlorine readings. Readings were also zero at Roblox 1 at Eddie Underpass, yet they noted, "eyes burned, experienced tickling of throat when at Roblox 1." In the afternoon, some readers again noted an odor absent chlorine readings outside the exclusion zone. At West Nile Mile Road, they noted, "might have smelled fertilizer." Near Eddie's Underpass, "Smell odor." The Monroe County Sheriff's Office noted, "Charlie Rock talked to Harvey Mead about crop spray. Mead says he did not spray anything." Unified Command did not seem to accept the spill site as a source of these odors. Yesterday's public meeting generated many questions, the vast majority from residents. Walden said at the IC plans meeting that in today's evacuee meeting, questions will be allowed from Albertan residents. Any debate will be held after the meeting. Bill Silverman had spoken with Tony Tweedale and informed him the meeting as a forum for Albertan residents. This was part of the ongoing attempt to shut down local activists in the public forum. The last three meetings taped by Will Snograss had not reflected any debate. Today's meeting was held in a crowded basement room of Loyola High School. Facilitate Remark Johnson. Rules for today's meeting. Peace Centers will speak. Albertan evacuees will have an opportunity to ask questions. Any debates will be after the public meeting. Walden announced, "We're not a forum for environmental organizations. This is your meeting and we want to control that. Again, we're really busy and lots going on and we appreciate your support. Thanks." Applause followed. The mazullian reported the next day that Walden responded to general complaints that residents couldn't ask questions because "environmental activists used up much of the limited meeting time." In yesterday's one hour and fifty minute meeting, Snograss and Tweedale's questions and responses from the panel took up about four minutes and by far most of that time came from the responses. There was no debate. Dave Torgerson from Olympus reported continued sampling to look for phenols and compounds around the spill site as well as in several homes. Ella Leahy announced that Dr. Walter Peschel arranged with MRL for residents to take PFTs, pulmonary function tests. "The public health study that HDSDR is going to develop will go hand in hand with Dr. Peschel's study," Leahy claimed. But HDSDR did not include any of this pulmonary testing in its study, nor were Peschel's PFT results ever made public by MRL. With the busy day of conferring, Leahy departed. Facilitator Johnson started Q&A by saying, "These folks can only stay about another 10 minutes." The meeting had started 20 minutes earlier. Not only would this be a short meeting, there would be no major official from the panel available afterwards. A few people had questions about environmental and health testing. One woman asked, "If people do have long-term effects from this, is there going to be any kind of contract with MRL? Is this going to assure these people or me that if any long-term effects do occur, that I will get medical coverage for those?" Watts reported from his chair, "I can't answer that." Same woman, "Is there going to be any kind of long-term contact with you? Or after this, are you guys going to disappear?" Watts, "We're not going to disappear. We're here for the long run. We're here to support you. We're here to take care of you." Johnson, the lady in red, "Do you have a question for Chief Waldron or Mr. Watts?" Glenda Giles stood at the microphone. This middle-aged lady with glasses was about to stop the show. "No," she said, "Actually, I'm not an Alberton or Missoula resident. I drove several hours just to get to your meeting, because I read in the Missoula newspaper about the train engineer involved, and what happened to him?" They said in that newspaper article, the statement that the long-term effects of exposure to chlorine gas are not known. Four and a half years ago, I was exposed to chlorine gas. Giles paused and took off her glasses. Her voice rose. "I came because I feel for these people who've been exposed, because I know that they don't know, and probably you don't know, what they're looking at. I come with personal experience." My exposure time to chlorine gas was for three to five minutes in the basement where the chlorine was contained. And for 15 minutes in the area outside the basement, where it drifted, I had no idea what chlorine could do at that point in time. I do know that standard blood and urine tests and x-rays aren't going to show any of the things that are wrong with the people who have problems. I have medical documentation that there's damage to my central and peripheral nervous system. My optic nerves are damaged. My respiratory system is damaged. My liver is damaged. I have a toxic brain damage that shows on two different types of special scans. I suffer cognitive and emotional problems, anxiety, panic attacks, sleep disturbance, nightmares. My immune system is damaged. I'm not an expert. I don't know any of your technical stuff, and I don't know how to tell you anything technical. I can only tell you what nightmare I've lived for the last four and a half years. The tests I had were very sophisticated. Some of them were somewhat expensive, but they were done to verify the damage done to my body. Among the many residents standing nearby was Lucinda Hodges, listening with a grim expression. Giles' voice trembled. I could no longer work and I will never be able to work again, because of what I suffered from those few minutes of exposure. I'm not here because Montana Rail Link or the media or anybody asked me to come. I came because of what I feel inside for the people who suffer. Not all of you are of the same makeup, and everybody's not going to have the same problems, because your exposures were all different. Hodges look and even grimmer eyeball the panel. But if any of the people who have been exposed and are concerned would like to talk to me, I'll be available to talk to those people and answer whatever questions I can and give them whatever information I've gathered over the last four and a half years. Johnson, thank you very much. Spontaneous applause erupted, including from Hodges. In the meeting minutes, Giles' testimony was summarized, question. Unknown Lady giving personal chlorine exposure. A few more people asked questions before Watson Waldron left. Hodges had yet to ask a question at the meetings. Now she spoke up. I have a question about cleaning up our homes when we go back. Can anyone answer that? Johnson, probably not, they already left. But I can tell you that they're preparing a large document for you, and they are going to, at one of these meetings, talk to you about those issues, about the kinds of food you should throw away, for instance, just to be on the safe side. What things might need to be cleaned up? Hodges, who's going to clean up the residue in our homes? Jim Carlson explained, "It's difficult to speculate what amount of cleanup may be required without finding out how much is present." So once we get a better idea of what's out there, then we would be trying to respond to those sorts of questions, if it's necessary to do that. Hodges. Well, my concern is that the belongings of mine that came out of my home are covered with a white powder. And whether it's toxic or not, I don't want to clean it up. Carlson, okay, well, if there's a white powder that you may, you feel as something to do with the site, I would recommend that you simply take those clothes and put them in garbage bags, and leave them for the time being until we get a better idea of what type of material may be toxic. A woman to the side of Carlson said, "We'll have that identified before you're allowed to go back home." Woman. One of the people that can answer most of the questions are going to be here with us. I mean, are they going to stay for the whole meeting, or are they going to have to leave early again? Johnson. Tomorrow afternoon they'll be here again, and they'll sit and meet with us. Without announcement, the meeting broke up. At the IC Night Shift briefing, Information Officer Dixie D. said, "The format of the public meeting was changed. The panel addressed the crowd, and the meeting was over. Anyone having questions was directed the specialist available to answer their concerns. It was felt the public meetings were going too long, and other groups were using the time for a personal forum on other issues. This format went well. There are other groups holding meetings around Missoula, presenting other agendas. MRL meetings will be announced by the media. By this account, the reason the panel left early was less about being busy than it was to cut short the questions and the meeting length, at least for the panel, and for MRL. The "unknown lady" giving personal chlorine exposure gave riveting testimony. Glenda Giles lived in Eureka, Montana, west of Glacier National Park. She came to Missoula to offer a warning. I was the office manager at a private country club that had a junior Olympic swimming pool, Giles recalled. In the basement, the club stored chlorine gas in 150-pound cylinders for treating pool water. On September 7, 1991, a busboy discovered a chlorine leak. While Giles made emergency calls, busboys checked on the leak. "They hadn't come back," she said. I was afraid they were in trouble. I went out and downstairs into the basement to look for them, and that's how I got exposed. But one of them had left the door open, and at the top of the stairs and ground level outside, the chlorine was so bad that my eyes and nose were running, and I was coughing by the time I got to the bottom of the stairs. I opened the door and called their names, and they didn't answer. Amid a foggy yellow cloud, I took a really deep breath and screamed their names as loud as they could. I heard a faint answer. I took another deep breath and screamed, "Where are you?" and they said, "We're in the parking lot." Brave but ignorant, Giles would never know the concentration of the chlorine she breathed, but she had been dosed, her life spiraled out of control. In addition to the illness she recounted at the evacuee meeting, Giles said she developed porphyria after her exposure, a metabolic disorder, and also brain damage. She became forgetful and overly emotional, crying for no apparent reason. She went to several specialists and the Mayo Clinic for a battery of tests. Giles developed sensitivity to chemicals, including chlorinated water and exhaust fumes, even to sunlight. Certain exposures produced extreme pain that might last for hours or days, stress-triggered symptoms as well. Ironically, she was en route to Billings for medical tests on April 11, 1996, and after spending the night at a hotel at the Y, west of Missoula, she awoke to the insult of chlorine. Then she heard about the spill. "I got enough chlorine that morning. I was having an anxiety attack before we got out of Missoula," she said. An anxiety attack is the first thing that happens when I have an exposure. She traveled with her son, Rob, upon whom she had come to depend. Later, in the Missoula and she said, "I read that newspaper article, which said the long-term effects of chlorine are not known." Giles decided to come back to Missoula. "When I saw what they were doing to these guys down here, I said, Rob, they're not going to get away with this. I am not standing quietly by." At the April 20 evacuee meeting, Giles said, "I was there for the victims, and if any of them would like to talk to me, I would stick around. And I backed away from the microphone and then whole audience burst into applause. I had tears streaming down my face. I was flabbergasted. I thought, "These people really are in trouble." Giles used to be shy and compromising. "That part of my brain has been damaged," she said, only half joking. Hodges called Giles the next morning. Giles said Hodges told her, "I was scared to call you, but I figured you were probably scared to come down here. And if you could come, the least I can do is talk to you. I just need to ask you a few questions." I said, "I don't think you're going to like what I have to say." And I told them, "But you need to hear what I have to say." Giles returned to the evacuee meeting the next day and made herself available to talk to residents. She later heard from Snograss that two women, one a uniformed deputy, wrote down Giles' license plate number in the parking lot. Following the next evacuee meeting, Snograss took his video camera over to where Deputy Susan Hintz, headed the Human and Health Resources Group and Dixie D's, the facilitator of the day, were talking. In a long give and take, Snograss confronted Hintz about her interest in Giles' license plate. Hintz only admitted, "I wanted to get the name of the lady that was in here talking yesterday and refused any more questions." Giles never felt threatened, but she said, emotionally and psychologically, it did a lot. It may have been done just to scare us off, but it didn't work. Hodges recalled, "People started getting forceful after the meeting that Glenda came to. She turned the tide. And just probably at that time, too, people started to get fed up." Giles came out of nowhere. Hodges, she said, "If you want to learn the truth, and if you think you can face it on what chlorine will really do to you, call me." And she gave everyone her hotel number. I do think she was very brave to have been a single person coming forward like that. The thrust of Giles' message was that, unlike official assurances, people's symptoms wouldn't necessarily go away in a few days or weeks, and they could get much, much worse. Hodges felt bubbling, the chemistry of radicalization. Chapter 21. The Leaker Friday, April 19. The night of spikes made clear, the site could release more chlorine gas bombs. The current plan was to patch the two-foot-by-three-inch hole with a steel plate and gasket strapped with chains. If the patch held under building pressure, chlorine could be removed as a liquid. At noon, a team in Level B began removing the outer jacket of Car 3 with a hydraulic ram. Double-digit readings rose north and east, the site a swamp of shifting levels of chlorine gas. The nearby highway, toxic. What Chris Weiss hoped would be a quick job, pretended a long slog. As work began in earnest on Car 3, a deep fatigue set in. Weiss recalled he spent about five days, with not more than an hour or two of sleep each day, he said. We thought, "How hard can this be?" After probably the first five days or so, we did get a little more sleep. Sometimes that came on the side of the road at 3 p.m. in the afternoon, sometimes at 3 a.m. in the morning. "It never really eased up," he said. By the end of day nine, only vapors remained in cars 1 and 4, but no chlorine had yet been transferred from the ruptured tank. Except by countless leaks. Saturday, April 20, the jacket peeled. This morning, the text pulled insulation to expose the naked hole in the tank shell. For now, they roughly plugged the hole with sorbent pads and insulation, but still observed a continual visible green cloud in the area of the leak, they noted, with greater than 100 parts per million on each side of the tank. Patching was to be performed in Level A, a chlorine vapor bath as a workstation. This monitor was limited to a 100 parts per million maximum, but in Level A, it really didn't matter. Tanks had 30 minutes of air, which meant about 20 minutes to work on site. By noon, Car 3 was prepped, and supplies had arrived for the patch job. The text wanted to raise the pressure more than planned. If we can get the pressure in Cars 3 up to 40 to 50 psi, we should get a good flow, they noted. Only essential people would be allowed on site, about 8 to 10. Two observers would watch from the hill with binoculars, ready to notify rescue crews. If the patching failed, Plan B would be to turn the liquid into vapor with steam heat, a slow process. Watts reported, the technical specialists have just finished making the patch. Instead of an inflatable bladder, the text chose a solid piece of neoprene to act as a gasket. They drilled a hole in a steel plate for another pipe access for pumping out the liquid. Watts told Le vacuiz, "With any good luck, we'll have this situation fairly well corrected by midnight tonight, first thing in the morning." Just as readings quieted, a new crisis arose. That afternoon, transfer of the sodium chlorate resumed. At 3 p.m., the operator of the vacuum truck, Dan Nash, climbed onto a vacuum unit to check the level of sodium chlorate in the container, and bent over to remove a retainer ring that secured an 80-inch diameter plug. A yellow sticker worn operators to relieve pressure before removing. When Nash removed the ring, the plug projected out at an extreme velocity, striking Nash on the left side of his face and knocking his respirator off. Nash staggered, disoriented, that fell onto the baghouse box on top of the truck. After decontamination, a semi-conscious Nash was taken to the same Patrick's hospital and released after two hours. His was the first trauma injury for workers. The accident, then reigned, shut down operations for the afternoon. As Watts recalled, Nash was blown off the top of his vacuum truck by opening a valve that said, "Do not open. Death might occur." It nearly had. At the IC Night Shift briefing, Watts reported the patch was adjusted and then the pipe would not fit. The team is going to attempt the process one more time. They're still trying to patch the damn thing. At 9.15 p.m., the patch was in place with chains set up. No visible chlorine leaked. The chains were cinched by 11 p.m., and the patch would be assessed in the morning. Sunday, April 21. Following spikes overnight, readings quieted after sunrise. At 8.15 a.m., the text reported the patch was holding into the car, but they said there was chlorine gas leaking on the right bottom and the top left. The hole in the ground below the tank is full of green gas. MRL noted, "The patch has not been tightened down yet, so this is expected." The text planned to set up fans to blow away gas. "We do not need a complete seal around the area," they said. "Once pressure is being inserted, it will be air escaping, not chlorine gas." But Watts informed IC a noon. "There is a band of metal that is preventing the patch to seal. If there is no pressure, they will not be able to remove the gas with this procedure. I will know more in an hour or two if the patch will work." At 4.00 p.m., MRL reported a major setback. "The pipe coming out of the patch is not working properly," they said. "Plan now is to take it out of the top in liquid form. We will have to remove the patch and reapply it." The tank had two vapor and liquid ports on top. The text had one as they used a patch port as well. Then at 5.17 p.m., MRL reported while unhooking the patch to retool it, a small fire started near the hole in the tank car. Chlorine was visibly escaping from the hole and rising over the tank car to the west down the tracks. Appears to have been some type of reaction, the gasket was not damaged by the fire, they said. This made the second definite fire at the site. Steve Way recalled, "In the attempts to seal up the small void in the seal between the patch and the tank or car shell, I think they ended up using some sort of plastic material that came from a tank car. It turned out it had some oil on it, and so it was oxidized by chlorine, which is a strong oxidizer and it caught fire." The low-tech MacGyver backfired and a gas cloud drifted down the line. At the IC night briefing, Lieutenant Mike McMegan reported failure. "The patch is not in car 3, work has been slow, they are tired. The weather slowed them down. They can't put the patch on when it's wet. They will attempt to put the patch on and leave it on overnight to see if pressure will build. If not, they will go to the steam. Another day, another lost effort." Fatigue workers were held to a 14-hour maximum workday. Within half an hour, the techs gave up on removing the chlorine as a liquid. Deciding the patch will not hold the amount of pressure needed to lift liquid out of the car through the top, they said. They would use a steam boiler to heat the tank and estimated it would take 36 to 48 hours to offload the vapor. The patch would still be used under minimal pressure. White said the liquid chlorine was very heavy and without pressure wouldn't flow. And the other problem as they understood it, he said, "The chlorine is such an aggressive oxidizer that the pumps were being corroded rapidly. It was difficult to keep the pumps running to pump chlorine through them." There was never really successful movement of liquid to the extent that it made any difference, he said. The entry team was split in half as work continued throughout the night. Late on day 11, purposeful transfer of chlorine vapor from car 3 finally began with the leaky patch, but at a low rate, without yet applying steam heat. Chlorine wanted to stay cold more than it wanted to boil. Direct readings around the site again picked up, drifting into double digits. A long night watch began. Next time on gas, the true story of a toxic trained derailment, health officials considered the criteria for allowing eventual reentry for residence and decide that hypersensitivity is not a concern. Until then, this is Ron Scholl. Thanks for listening. This podcast is adapted from the book Gas, the true story of a toxic trained derailment. Visit amazon.com to see the two book series. To access support material in the book such as maps, photos, illustrations, and video links, visit my Facebook page Gas, the true story. Or watch my gas playlist on my YouTube channel at R.L. Scholl. [Music]
