Of course, I do not intend to suggest that the story I have to tell is a great one. That remains to be seen. It is, however, one of unique importance, at least to the characters involved. It takes place near a rural town in Northeast Alabama. I have traced its quiet plot through history, noting its peaks and troughs in the time-line of our nation. It begins, like any other tale of significance, with a war.
It was a time unlike any other in American history. Fear and paranoia occupied the minds of every citizen, spreading through the land like a monstrous plague. Meanwhile, the United States government gathered an untold amount of munitions and developed devastating weaponry, the likes of which the world had never seen, preparing for a showdown that would ultimately decide the future of the planet. Fortunately, although it stretched across several distressing decades, this war was unique in the fact that neither side ever fired a shot. For this reason, the conflict became known as the Cold War.
BACKGROUND
Several years before the beginning of this conflict, the United States War Department began constructing a facility nestled in a northeastern Alabama valley for the purpose of storing ammunition. Thus, the Anniston Army Depot (ANAD) was born. As the need for storage space increased, so too did the size of ANAD. From the facility's completion in February 1941 to September of 1942, ANAD's work force increased from a modest four to an unbelievable 4, 339 people (Pike). As the years rolled on, ANAD grew and changed with the United States' ever advancing military. In the early 1960s, Uncle Sam called on ANAD to perform a slightly different task. ANAD was asked to aid in the overhaul of tracked vehicles such as the M47, M48, M48A1, and M48A2C tanks. Of course, ANAD was expected to complete this task in addition to its already complicated storage responsibilities, and, as if their job wasn't difficult enough, the government was about to throw the people at ANAD another curve ball.
In 1963, at the height of the Cold War, ANAD became one of the seven facilities in the United States to store chemical weaponry. The production and storage of this weaponry was part of the United States' continuing effort to gain a military edge over the Soviet Union. The deadly effects of the chemical agents stored at ANAD, in addition to those stored at the numerous other depots across the nation, inevitably acted as a deterrent to a third and possibly final world war between the two nations and their allies.
According to Dan Blade in his article “The History of Chemical Warfare,” the development of weapons of mass destruction, like the ones being shipped to ANAD during this time, was not an interest of the American government until after the industrial revolution. In fact, many believed the manufacture of these chemical warfare agents was a direct response to the Germans' use of them during World War I, which “came down to a simple requirement; they needed a substitute for conventional munitions” (Blade). So, essentially, the introduction of chemical warfare was a financial decision.
By the time ANAD began to arrange their current stockpile, chemical warfare had evolved. Gone were the days of chlorine gas and insecticides. In the mid-60s, the development of chemical warfare agents was at an all time high. Slowly, the individuals at ANAD began to realize that this was to be, without question, an extremely dangerous undertaking. Still, they took it on the chin and did their duty, perhaps not fully understanding the hazards this task presented to them or the surrounding communities. It was only when the weapons themselves began to age that people around the depot realized the potential consequences behind the storage of these materials, but it took more than a couple of accidents for them to do anything about it.
In the 1980s, a man named Eli Henderson was one of the many chemical-weapons inspectors at ANAD. Henderson's job was simply this: “He'd don a moon suit and enter dark igloos containing thousands of rockets and artillery packed with chemical agents like Sarin and VX to see if any were leaking” (Campo-Flores). Sarin and VX were the most dangerous chemicals stored at ANAD. Contact with at least 100mg of Sarin or 10mg (one drop) of the VX agent would be fatal. Henderson knew the risks, but he was careful. He knew upon entering the igloos that his surroundings were among the most deadly in the world. Still, like everyone else at ANAD, he continued to do his job, bravely ignoring the daily dangers it presented.
One time, during a routine check, Henderson and his partner discovered a missile that was leaking the Sarin agent. When they attempted to remove the missile from its storage rack, nearly a gallon of the deadly chemical spilled onto their protective clothing and onto the floor of the igloo. Henderson and his partner escaped with their lives, but just barely. The amount that was spilled was enough to kill thousands of people (Campo-Flores). This situation could have been catastrophic. Imagine the death toll in the surrounding areas had this chemical escaped that igloo. Thankfully, that didn't happen. This is one of the largest recorded spills in the history of the depot. Other spills have been minor, but no less damaging to the people who share their hometowns with these lethal toxins.
Mr. Henderson isn't the only person with a story like this. According to their website, ANAD employs 6, 716 people. While this total includes a fair amount of active duty officers, a majority of the positions at ANAD are held by civilians. That is a large number of people who are willing to put their lives on the line for a paycheck. For a time, Jon Snowe1, a resident of Oxford, Alabama, was among those individuals. I had the opportunity to speak with Mr. Snowe only a few short weeks ago.
RISKY BUSINESS
While Mr. Snowe was never employed by the depot itself, his office was stationed there for quite some time. From 2002 to 2007, Snowe worked as a Quality Assurance Specialist (QAS) with the Defense Contract Management Agency, one of ANAD's many tenants. As a QAS, he was responsible for overseeing the production of several armored vehicles, such as: the Stryker (an eight-wheeled combat vehicle), the Abram tank, the Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles, and the M113 armored personnel carriers. Basically, his job was to insure that the vehicles performed as intended. If, for some reason, the vehicles malfunctioned, it was Mr. Snowe's responsibility to have the mistakes corrected, even if that meant tracing the problem back to the contractor's assembly of the vehicle. If that was the case, his office would attempt to affect some type of QA remedy to the existing process to make sure that any new vehicles being constructed did not have the same issue.
Snowe's team was also in charge of calibrating the gunner's primary sight for the tanks (a visual unit used to aim the main gun), and monitoring the construction of the Hellfire Missile in a facility located on the restricted section.
For five long years, Snowe earned his living just a few short yards away from the igloos containing both VX nerve agent and Sarin gas, two of the most lethal forms of chemical weaponry known to man. This, of course, made Snowe understandably uncomfortable. Even as I sat across from him in the nursery of his church, a peculiar setting for our discussion, he shifts in his chair and adjusts his clothing nervously as he describes his experiences at the depot.
“Twenty years ago, before I was a government employee, I worked for the contractor that made those Hellfire Missiles, and, as a contractor, we were right there in the same building, co-located with the government workers who were actually issued atropine shots. If something happened, they could jam these shots in their thighs, and the effects would counteract the nerve agents and, at least, save their lives. There may have been some lingering effects, but they would have been alive. They didn't issue those to us. That always gave us a bit of an uneasy feeling. We kind of felt like we were expendable, and maybe not valued as much as the government workers. Now, here we are, twenty years later, and, again, when I travel to that same facility as a government worker, I am still not issued any type of atropine shot or anything else.”
Mr. Snowe is referring to the “atropine auto-injector, which is normally attached to a 2-PAM CL (Pralidoxime Chloride) auto-injector, a device used by soldiers who come under a chemical attack and begin to show symptoms of nerve agent poisoning.” The shot is meant to neutralize the effects of nerve agents on the body. According to the United States Disease and Injury Control Program, “the antidote works by blocking the actions of excess acetylcholine,” a chemical in the body that increases as a result of being exposed to some of the more deadly types of chemical weaponry. “By blocking the acetylcholine, atropine decreases secretions, broncho-constrictions, and diarrhea,” or the major causes of death associated with nerve agents like VX (DICP).
Unfortunately, Snowe did not have this comfort, or any other for that matter. Instead, he was left to believe himself expendable. As our discussion continued, I began to wonder what procedures were in place to protect those without atropine shots.
“Our directions were, if we heard the alarm...to get off of the restricted area as quickly as possible. The one event that we did have occurred when I was working for the contractor twenty years ago. We were on our way out of the restricted area after work...we were all shuttled to and from the facility by a government van...and as we got near the gates, we saw them close in front of us. Well, we got up there and the guard halted us, and didn't allow us to leave the area, which, as I said, is what we were told to do if there was a situation. All around us we hear the sirens going off, and we say to the guy, 'But we're gonna die if we stay here!' Obviously, they knew a little more than we did. I'm sure they would have done something to save our lives had we been in imminent danger. Anyway, we had to stay inside the gate in the restricted area. We weren't allowed to get to our cars and get away.”
Mr. Snowe later explained that depot officials sounded the alarm because they found a dead cow near one of the igloos. According to Snowe, this is one of ANAD's several techniques for detecting a leak. They would allow cows to graze around the igloos because they were more sensitive to the chemicals. If one of the cows began to behave strangely in a particular part of the restricted section, it was possible that there was a spill in that area. This gave officials a jump on sounding the alarm and, hopefully, provided an opportunity to save more lives in the process.
Still, I began to wonder why Snowe and his team were prevented from leaving? What purpose could that have served? The more we discussed this event, the less confident I became in ANAD's ability to give their employees a sense of security. How were people like Jon Snowe supposed to do their jobs if they didn't feel like they were being protected? As these things passed through my mind, I became curious about Mr. Snowe's opinion regarding these procedures. Was he confident that they would prevent his untimely death? What would have happened to them had the worst case scenario occurred? The answer I received was not one I was comfortable hearing.
“The indication that I got was, if you were out there, in the restricted area, and there was a venting of nerve gas, that you were gone anyway. If it happened, it would be just as effective as someone dropping a nuclear bomb on that area. You didn't stand a chance.”
The moments following this statement were spent in silence. It was hard to believe. An image of incomprehensible destruction began to form in my mind and remained there as I scrambled to collect my thoughts and continue with the interview. It was difficult. The finality of that possible situation seemed to hang in the room like a heavy fog. Eventually, Mr. Snowe broke the silence.
“In defense of the depot, they have a wonderful facility out there. And also, I was told that, not only did they have a fenced-in restricted area within the boundaries of the depot, but there was also another fence within the restricted area that surrounded the place where the actual nerve gas was located. So, in other words, they had those igloos quartered off. And, just an interesting side note, they actually allowed people to hunt back there on some of those igloos.”
Mr. Snowe's attempt to change the subject was meant to calm my mind, but only served to raise more questions. Why would the depot allow people to hunt on those grounds? Is it not dangerous enough? They are already taking a risk by simply having those materials out there. To allow people to discharge their weapons near those things just seems irresponsible. Even if it is unlikely that any civilian owned weaponry that could break through the solid concrete walls of the igloos, it still isn't worth the risk.
As I pondered the possible repercussions of allowing such an activity, I began to wonder why anyone would want to hunt there. How informed were the citizens of the surrounding areas? How much did they know about the chemicals the depot was storing? And, more specifically, now that Mr. Snowe was no longer stationed at the depot, did he feel that the government had done their part to insure the safety of his family in a community inside the red zone?
“Well, to be honest, I actually received more training as a citizen than I did while I was working at the depot. When the incinerator was built to destroy the weapons, there was another opportunity for failure, or another opportunity for the nerve gas to vent into the atmosphere, so they had to take extra precautions. I received training from the Emergency Management Agency (EMA), which was sponsored by the government. We were also allowed to participate in the Chemical Stockpile Emergency Preparedness (CSEP) program. We went to one of their offices and watched a video concerning the measures we would need to take if a warning was given.”
“The video suggested preparing a plan, kind of like a tornado safety plan. You should know where you want to go. You pick out a room and you give each member of your family a particular job to do to get that room sealed. We were issued a kit that had plastic, duct tape, scissors or a razer blade, etc. Basically, the kit had everything you would need to go into a room and seal the windows and doors. It was a shelter-in-place plan. Each house was issued a different kit depending on their zone. Since we were in the red zone, which was the main zone, we were issued an air purification system, which is about the size of a small refrigerator. It was a pretty fancy piece of equipment. It was like a HEPA filter on steroids. It just purified the air in the room which you had hopefully sealed off by the time the gas reached you.”
Mr. Snowe went on to say that citizens in the red zone were also issued gas masks or protective hoods which provided yet another layer of protection. Moreover, the Alabama EMA's website lists evacuation routes for each area surrounding ANAD. However, those individuals located in the Immediate Response Zones (IRZ), or those areas within 10-15 miles of the depot, were not encouraged to leave their homes. Instead, as Mr. Snowe pointed out, they were asked to shelter-in-place.
According to the Alabama EMA, a chemical weapon vapor could travel an average distance of nine miles per hour under typical weather conditions. That would suggest that IRZ citizens simply would not have enough time to escape the fumes. Their best opportunity for survival relied on their own ability to seal their house with plastic sheets and duct tape. Not exactly reassuring, but better than nothing, I suppose.
In the end, Mr. Snowe made it very clear that he felt safe in Oxford, Alabama, “despite what the news-clippings would suggest.” He said that he “has always felt that the nerve gas storage situation was really overinflated by the media in order to sell papers.” He believes that has had a undeniable effect on the outsider's view of the Oxford-Anniston area.
“I have joked with other people that ANAD keeps the riff-raff out of this area. A lot of people from up north, especially a lot of environmentalists, would never come down here because we have nerve gas. If you go to the Internet and search for nerve gas, you'll see Anniston everywhere. Those papers have painted such a negative picture of this place, but I have a completely different picture in my mind. There's nothing like seeing a sunset from the top of Cheaha mountain, and the landscape everywhere you look is beautiful. It is absolutely gorgeous here. It's the prettiest place in the country as far as I'm concerned. I know a lot of people would have everyone believe that its a scary place to live, but that just isn't so. This is my home. I've lived here for a very long time, and I have no intention of leaving.”
As I shake Mr. Snowe's hand and thank him for his time, I take one last look around the nursery, and I just can't help but think of the children who were only hours before playing with their toys, oblivious to the daily dangers just down the road. As Mr. Snowe turns out the lights, I find myself wondering why these children will be forced to grow up in a place where every day could be their last.
LIVING IN DEATH'S BACKYARD: THE NEVER-ENDING STORY
According to a statement released by the Department of Defense, ANAD does not top this list in toxic releases, but it's pretty close. It ranks second, all-time, for chemical weapon spills in the United States. “The total toxic releases equaled 548,073 pounds in 1996, and contained zinc compounds, hexachoroethane, 1,1,1-Trichloroethane, chlorine and others (DOD, 1996)” (Environmental Justice Case Study). The lasting effects of such spills can be devastating to the surrounding area and its inhabitants. Unfortunately, it is only speculation when these tragedies arise around the depot, as it is almost impossible to trace the cause of these issues back to spills reported by ANAD. So, I suppose it's possible that these minor spills are not a detriment to the health and well being of the people in Calhoun County. Although, something tells me they aren't helping improve matters either.
Eventually, the growing concern for the safety of the surrounding communities as well as the agreement reached by the Chemical Weapons Convention in 1993 all but made the decision to destroy the stockpile of chemical weaponry at ANAD. There was just one question: How? Truth is, the government had been working on a solution for the chemical weapon “problem” for quite some time.
In 1969, newly elected President Nixon made the decision to renounce the United States' Offensive Biological Weapons Program. This decision prohibited further production of this form of weaponry and directed the disposal of existing American stocks of biological or chemical weapons. Several newspapers and magazines across the country covered this decision, each of them questioning how the materials would be destroyed. One article, entitled “Disposal at Sea,” from Science News discussed the negative effects of a possible method.
According to the article, the Department of Defense (DOD) was “between a rock and a hard place.” The chemicals in the small ground-to-ground rockets had begun to leak before the DOD had discovered a way to safely destroy the hazardous material. As a result of this new situation, the DOD was forced to improvise. They decided to implement the disposal method used during the 1940s, which included loading the material onto an old freighter, towing it out to sea, and sinking it. In theory, the tremendous pressure at the bottom of the ocean would destroy the weapons, and the DOD's problems would be solved. When asked how this would impact the environment, the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) responded that any affect would be “vanishingly small.” Individuals like then Representative Paul Rogers and Florida Governor Claude Kirk refused to believe the NAS's report, and protested the DOD's proposed disposal method.
Both Rogers and Kirk agreed that neither the NAS or the DOD had given much thought to how the chemical dumps would affect marine life, and, therefore, were convinced that the government was not acting in the best interest of the environment. Still, the NAS supported the disposal process, stating that each and every aspect was completely safe. They believed that the chemicals' steel containers would eventually corrode, “allowing [them] to diffuse slowly to the outside.” The chemicals would then be “hydrolyzed gradually by sea water,” rendering them almost completely harmless (Science News 113). Rogers and Kirk were not satisfied by this explanation and continued to push the NAS to explain the details of the “detoxifying hydrolysis.” Eventually, a Defense Department spokesperson went on record stating that, even after extensive research into the matter, the army remained unsure of “how much sea water would hydrolyze a given amount of [the chemicals].” The spokesman then admitted that “sea life could be killed by the gas before the detoxifying hydrolysis [took] place,” a fact that proved to prevent the DOD from implementing this disposal method (Science News 113).
Unfortunately, by this time, the damage had been done. As previously stated, this method was used in the 1940s for the same purpose. The chemicals placed off the coast of our nation at that time were still resting quietly on the ocean floor, but for how much longer? How long until the world above the water feels the effects of the uninformed decisions of the leaders of the past? How long until the colorless, odorless, and tasteless chemicals bubble to the surface to perform the task they were created for? These questions swirled like an increasingly violent whirlpool in the minds of concerned citizens for years. How would the government correct this seemingly irreparable error?
This controversy marked the beginning of all disputations regarding the disposal of chemical weapons in America. It was one of the first instances in which people began to view these materials as a major threat. Before, a majority of the population saw these weapons as a necessary evil, accepted only for the purpose of defeating the Soviet Union in the ongoing arms race. As the war waged on, however, members of these “chemical communities,” such as those located near ANAD, became concerned for their well being, and asked their government to develop a safe and cost-effective plan to eliminate this threat and put their minds at ease once and for all. A plan of this type did not arrive at ANAD until the late 1990s, nearly 10 years after most of its stockpile had reached the end of its predicted shelf-life. The risk was too high to put it off any longer. After all, every day the chemicals sat in the igloos was another day they could escape their confines and ride a steady eastern wind into town. It wouldn't take much.
In 1996, the United States government announced that it intended to build a chemical weapons incinerator on the grounds of ANAD. After this announcement, another seven years went by before the facility was finally deemed operational. During this time, citizens of the Anniston-Oxford area were doing all they could to learn more about the incineration process, and what it might mean for their family's future. Many people supported the idea of incineration. Of course, these were the individuals that wanted to destroy the chemicals at almost any cost. Others, however, were a little more hesitant, and, as you may have expected, there was significant resistance to the idea of burning these chemicals so close to a thriving community. I must admit, the idea of burning nerve agents isn't exactly a comforting one.
In an article for Newsday (a Long Island, New York publication), reporter Tina Susman discusses a period of time when protests regarding the incinerator were a common occurrence in Anniston. According to the article, Mike Abrams, the incineration project spokesman, attempted to calm the residents by pointing to the success of this disposal method on the Johnston Atoll in the Pacific Ocean. “It works,” he said. “It's safe. I'd swear that the incinerator does not pose any risk to this community. In fact, we're reducing the risk to the community” by preventing potential leaks or terrorist attacks. However, despite Abrams' efforts to put their minds at ease, many residents were still unconvinced. In fact, some believed the Army was taking advantage of them, suggesting that “were it not for the area's high percentage of poor and minorities...the military would not be pushing the project” (Susman).
Some residents met every night in community centers or other lodgings to discuss the risks associated with incineration. As a result of these town meetings, the citizens requested that the government research incineration alternatives, such as neutralization, a longer albeit safer process of chemical disposal. Unfortunately, their request was denied: “Neutralization is favored by environmentalists and is used at some U.S. sites, but Abrams said it was unthinkable for Anniston, whose incinerator was completed in early 2001. 'It's a matter of what's been spent and a matter of what would have to be spent,' Abrams said, referring to the time and cost of starting over.” This upset many residents and only served to fuel the fires on their torches of protest. It inspired more people to believe that the government was more interested in saving dollars than saving lives.
Still, the leaders of these communities knew the materials had to go. People all over the Anniston-Oxford area were becoming ill as a result of PCB contamination, something many believed was a direct result of the chemicals housed at ANAD. They were being forced to decide between the effects of the chemicals themselves, and the risks associated with the incineration process. Their choice was between that of a slow death or a sudden one, should the worst case scenario occur during the disposal. It was not a decision meant to be made in haste. It was one that required a person to go over the facts. They had to look at the case from every angle. It was important that they take their time, because this was a decision that would have a drastic effect on the future of these communities; however, due to an unfortunate series of events, these individuals did not have the luxury of time.
On September 11, 2001, one of the greatest tragedies in American history caused many incineration opponents to reconsider their position. While most students across the nation mourned the loss of their countrymen in their classrooms, those in Anniston and Oxford were being picked up by their parents as they evacuated the city. Not all residents reacted in this way, but those who did were paranoid enough to believe that ANAD was the next target. After all, on that day, attacks appeared to be occurring all over the place. Most older individuals remembered a similar fear during the Cold War. The ever present thought that, at any moment, they could be destroyed based solely on the fact that they live within a few miles of a chemical weapons stockpile.
So, the residents found themselves right back at the beginning of the story. The lost feelings of the Cold War were brought back in an instant, inspired by the events in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania. They realized that not much had changed in over thirty years. Actually, things were worst. The chemicals were still hanging around, the paranoia was back, and, unlike the Cold War, people had actually suffered and died, a fact which only served to intensify the collective fears of the community. It was this renewed threat of terrorism on American soil that played a large role in accelerating the time-line regarding the incineration process.
Many residents, such as David Parker, were now arguing in favor of incineration. Parker said, “9/11 woke me up. 9/11 was for real. The stockpile is a major threat, and we're fearful of terrorists.” Other residents echo his words, arguing that “it's best to get rid of the stuff as soon as possible” (Susman). Still, even in light of the attacks on September 11th, “incineration opponents...appear to outnumber supporters...They see incineration not just as a potential danger but as an abuse of power by the Army, which has long held sway here. The town was home to the Fort McClellan Army Base until its closure in 1999. The depot, a separate facility, is the largest employer in Calhoun County, where Anniston is located. To speak out against anything the Army proposes is to risk being labeled unpatriotic...” (Susman).
It was for this reason that many opponents gave up on their fight. Like everyone else, they knew the chemicals had to be destroyed. So, in early 2003, ANAD began the incineration of its chemical weapons stockpile, delayed only occasionally by a small band of protesters who still had an itch for the fight.
According to an article in Chemical and Engineering News, ANAD completed the disposal of the deadliest chemical in its stockpile, the VX nerve agent, on December 24, 2008. The completion of this process brought relief to many of the residents of Oxford and Anniston, but there are those who remain on their toes, as the depot still houses mines containing mustard gas that, in the right dose, could be just as lethal. Officials at ANAD have gone on record stating that they are only a few years away from completing this process entirely; however, many residents believe that event will not mark the end of the presence of chemical weaponry in their communities. Given the current state of the economy, the government would most likely not have the funds to construct an incineration facility for every depot that houses these hazardous materials. Therefore, in order to be destroyed, these weapons would need to be transported to the nearest operational facility. ANAD has one of the only facilities in the nation licensed to perform this task, and will most likely be called upon to perform it until the entire American stockpile is gone.
I asked Mr. Snowe about this observation, and he had this to say: “I think that is exactly what will happen. They have other weapons depots where the remainder of the stockpile of chemical weaponry is stored, and it was advertised that they would simply build another facility up there when it came time to destroy it, but, as the time draws near, I just don't see that happening. I think they will bring some of the agents here to be destroyed simply because of the economy. I mean, we already have the facility, people already have jobs here. How they will get it here, I don't have a clue. They transport radioactive waste all the time, and they could do something like that, but it would have to be in rail cars that are virtually indestructible. They over-design those things to the point that you could drop one of them into the Grand Canyon and it wouldn't break open. But yes, I fully expect them to bring something in here and keep it going to be honest with you.”
This is exactly what the people of the Oxford-Anniston area were afraid of when the idea of building an incinerator was first announced. The government and the media defended the idea and assured the communities that, once the weapons were destroyed, they would demolish the incinerator. This no longer appears to be the case. For this reason, I am concerned for not only Oxford and Anniston and the areas around ANAD, but for the cities and towns through which these materials will be transported. After all, every area within a certain radius of that rail car or whatever transport mechanism they choose to use becomes a red zone. It would be unethical for them to transport these chemicals without first notifying the communities through which they will be traveling, as well as issuing its residents the same materials as they did for those located in the IRZ's near ANAD.
Still, even if they take every precaution to make sure these deadly weapons arrive safely in Anniston, the citizens of that area have, essentially, made no progress. The level of awareness will be just as high as the time before the incinerator was built, the time that most residents believed they had a way of ridding themselves of this nightmare once and for all.
Then, as if the end were not far enough away, the government has made plans to recover the materials located at the ocean dump sites, which were created as a disposal method in the 1940s. The protective shells covering these materials have no doubt been compromised, making them even more dangerous to transport.
So, there appears to be no escape for those living near ANAD. The hits just keep coming, and there isn't much that they can do to stop them. Perhaps the only choice they have is to wait it out. After all, Cat Stevens once said, “I am confident that, in the end, common sense and justice will prevail. I'm an optimist, brought up on the belief that if you wait to the end of the story, you get to see the good people live happily ever after.” My only question is: what happens if the story never ends?
Work Cited
Campo-Flores, Arian. "The Nerve Gas Next Door." Newsweek 140.2409 DEC 2002 Web.7 Sep 2009.
Environmental Justice Case Study, "Chemical Weapon Incineration at the Anniston Army Depot." Environmental Justice Case Study. 2000. Environmental Justice Case Study. 7 Sep 2009
Pike, John. "Military: Anniston Army Depot." Global Security. 21 JAN 2006. Global Security. 7 Sep 2009
Susman, Tina. "Afraid to Keep It, Afraid to Burn It." Newsday 5 Aug 2003, Print.
"Disposal at Sea." Science News. 98.6 (1970): 113. Print.
H., D.J. "LAST VX DESTROYED AT ANNISTON DEPOT.." Chemical and Engineering News. 87.1 (2009): 18. Print.
Disease and Injury Control Program. "Atropine." Nerve Agent Antidote Auto-injector. U.S. Army Center for Health Promotion and Preventive Medicine, Web. 19 Oct 2009.
Alabama Emergency Management Agency, . "Evacuation Routes." Alabama EMA. Alabama EMA, Web. 19 Oct 2009.
Anniston Army Depot, . "About ANAD." The Anniston Army Depot: America's Combat Vehicle Support Center. 16Aug2007. ANAD, Web. 19 Oct 2009.
Blade, Dan. "The History of Chemical Warfare." Helium. Helium, Web. 9 Dec 2009.
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