Burning Rubber

On December 18, the city council approved legislation

protecting industrial lands from encroaching commercial
development in South Seattle’s manufacturing corridor. It was a
controversial decision, but given the facts on the ground it seemed to
make sense.

The legislation blocks commercial developers, motivated by the cheap
land prices, from snatching up industrial lands that are in high
demand; industrial land vacancy is a tight 2.5 percent, while the
commercial vacancy rate hovers at 9 to 10 percent. Furthermore,
Seattle’s collective industrial sector is the city’s largest employer,
providing predominantly blue-collar jobs.

But while the city seems intent on protecting the health of the
industrial sector, it’s not clear the feeling is reciprocal.

The council’s decision came as Lafarge North America, a $2.1 billion
Virginia-based manufacturing giant with a plant on West Marginal Way
Southwest, is pushing to change its cement manufacturing process in
ways that could pose health risks to nearby South Park and Georgetown
residents. The company is aiming for EPA approval to power its
cement-making kiln by burning scrap tires. Tire burning, which produces
dioxin—a carcinogen—raises red flags for surrounding
communities. The company tried to make the switch last June (currently
it powers its kiln with a mix of coal and rubber tires), but fell short
of
EPA emission standards during
a trial run. The company is
awaiting results of tests conducted
in November.

“The city is creating a ghetto,” says South Park community activist
Nigel Day. “They say it’s not a class issue, but we’re sitting here in
a squalor of industrial pollution and they just ignore it.”

The combined environmental footprint of Lafarge and other industrial
plants in the Duwamish Valley has had a profound effect on residents’
health, says Heather Trim of People for Puget Sound, a local
environmental advocacy group. A survey conducted by King County in 2005
found that the Georgetown and South Park neighborhoods had the highest
asthma hospitalization rates in the county. Trim, along with the
state-chartered Puget Sound Clean Air Agency and neighbors
say
Lafarge is responsible for a noxious odor that has been the subject of
residents’
complaints for years.

South Seattle residents say the odor causes respiratory problems,
nausea, and headaches. There are instances where children and staff at
nearby Concord Elementary School have been sent home
from school after becoming sick during recess or prolonged periods
spent outdoors, says David Tucker, a spokesperson for Seattle Public
Schools. Similar instances were reported at Highland Park Elementary, also in the plant’s vicinity, by the Seattle Post-Intelligencer in 2002.

However, in 2003 the company tested for hazardous chemicals in their
plant’s emissions—tests they say absolve them of responsibility.
They also say switching to tire burning will benefit both their
business and the neighbors. Burning whole tires is more affordable than
their current process.
And while phone calls to the plant were not
returned, according to Puget Sound Clean Air Agency, the company also
says tire
incineration will lead to a drop in some
emissions
from the plant.

While tire incineration can lead to a drop in formaldehyde and
mercury levels in emissions, levels of carbon monoxide and
dioxin—a highly toxic carcinogen that is in Agent Orange and was
found at Love Canal, the poster child of industrial environmental
fiascos—increased in the test run.

While there are a number of cement plants that operate incinerators
in the area, and all of them contribute to air-quality
concerns—890 complaints have been filed with the Puget Sound
Clean Air Agency since 2000—the agency’s compliance director Jim
Nolan says the inefficient Lafarge plant produces more pollution. Even
if the tests find a drop in toxic emission levels, Nolan says the
switch is still a Band-Aid for the outdated technology of the
plant.

“You could look at their smokestacks and you would see yellow smoke
come out and then the odor would come around—
when the smoke
stacks weren’t putting
out yellow smoke, it didn’t smell,” local

activist Day says.