Snapshots
COMMON SENSE AND UNCOMMON FEARS
Parents want reasons for childhood cancer, property owners
fear reasons behind the move to protect a river
Whom to believe? A couple of long-running news events raise that question. Four families asked the
legal system to confirm that toxic coal tar is to blame for their community's "cancer cluster," something
science has been unable to verify. But while lawyers and doctors clash in court, the case is challenging the
way the media cover issues when the public and experts disagree. Meanwhile, a federal effort to save the
Illinois River has roused suspicions among property owners. The idea certainly sounds well-intentioned,
but some activists call the Heritage Rivers Initiative a scheme to control land use through aerial
photography and satellite surveillance. In an effort to soothe such worries, President Bill Clinton says
the program will have "no federal mandates, no regulations, no restrictions on property holders' rights."
Still, there are doubters.
TRUST IN SCIENCE
Bridging the gulf
between evidence and emotion
by Kevin McDermott
In the summer of 1990, a group of
Taylorville parents went public with
a frightening theory: A toxic waste
site on the south side of that small
central Illinois town had caused three
infants to develop neuroblastoma, a
rare pediatric cancer of the adrenal
glands and nervous system that
normally strikes fewer than one of
100,000 children annually. Eight
years and three additional cancer
victims later, the theory has moved
from the laboratory to the courtroom.
Four families have asked the legal
system to confirm that carcinogenic
coal tar is to blame for their
community's "cancer cluster," something medical science has been unable
to verify. A decision on the suit is
expected in the next couplemof
months.
But while lawyers and doctors
continue to clash in court, the case is
challenging the way the media cover
issues when the public and the
experts disagree. As one frustrated
state agency scientist asked reporters
during a Springfield panel discussion
not long after the neuroblastoma
controversy broke: "Why do you guys
always quote the hysterical mother?"
Illustrations by Mike Cramer |
At the center of the controversy is
a former coal gasification plant in a
town. of little more than 11,400
residents. The factory, owned by
Central Illinois Public Service Co.,
produced gas from coal around the
turn of the century, along with the
toxic by-product coal tar. CIPS
closed the site in 1932, but in the
mid-1980s, a contractor accidentally
punctured an underground tank,
releasing some of the stored
substance into the ground.
Under an agreement with the
Illinois Environmental
Protection Agency,
CIPS removed 9,000
cubic yards of coal tar
and contaminated dirt,
but plaintiffs in the suit
— parents of four of the
six known cancer
victims — allege toxins
were released into the
environment during the
cleanup.
At the heart of the
story, though, is this
question: Should science
be trusted when it draws
conclusions that seem to
defy common sense?
After reports of the
first three cases of neuroblastoma were made
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28 / March 1998 Illinois Issues
public, the Illinois Department of
Public Health launched a study, concluding in 1991 that Taylorville's
"cancer cluster," while unusual, can't
be linked to toxic waste or any other
causes. Today, the list of known
neuroblastoma cases in and around
Taylorville totals six, twice the number that had alarmed state officials
enough to launch their study. And
two of the young victims have died.
Yet most experts argue there is
still no scientific reason to believe
the town is plagued by anything
more than tragic coincidence.
Furious parents counter that mere
coincidence can't explain why three
children simultaneously developed a
cancer that, statistically, shouldn't
appear in a town the size of
Taylorville more than once in a
generation.
"I want whatever is out there to
be taken care of so no one else has
to go through this," said Tammy
Donaldson, the mother of 9-year-old
neuroblastoma victim Zachary
Donaldson, as she went into court
one morning last December. "I just
want to know the truth."
That won't be easy. With no
conclusive proof either way, both
sides in the trial have relied on
conflicting testimony as to whether
the toxic waste site could have
caused the children's cancer. The
defendants — CIPS and two
contractors involved in the cleanup
project — maintain that, although
coal tar is a known carcinogen, it
hasn't been proven to cause neuroblastoma. State health officials,
doctors and scientists generally agree.
Media coverage of the case, laced
from the beginning with pictures of
sick children and the trembling
voices of their parents, has led to
complaints from the scientific
community that reporters are
too quick to give credence to the
uninformed fears of laypeople, while
downplaying scientific sources that
would cast doubt on those fears.
"[Reporters] concentrate on the
families and children, on how terrible
it is, and I would, too. ... But some of
the homework hasn't been done,"
says state Public Health spokesman
Tom Schafer. He notes that those who
conclude the toxins caused the cancer
are making a claim that the best
minds of science have been unable to
prove, despite years of research. "The
frustration [among scientists]," says
Schafer, "is that nobody in the world
knows what the answer is, as far as
neuroblastoma [goes]."
Reporters who have covered the
long-running story argue that parents
have as much right as scientists to
weigh in on that question.
"When I'm talking to a parent who
has a sick child, I'm not trying to
establish some link" between toxins
and cancer, says Tony Cappasso, who
has covered the Taylorville trial for
the Springfield State Journal-
Register. "I'm trying to get the parent
to tell my readers why she's suing. It
doesn't mean the reporter endorses
the argument."
Perhaps more to the point is
the tone of uncertainty in scientific
pronouncements on coal tar and
neuroblastoma, a tone that gnaws at
laypeople.
Scientists don't outright discount
that coal tar or other toxins could
cause the cancer; rather, they say, no
cause has been proven — the same
distinction scientists of 50 years ago
would have drawn on the issue of, say,
cigarettes and lung cancer.
It's a distinction that speaks to
the gulf between scientists, who
necessarily require all the evidence to
be in before drawing any conclusions,
and the public, which tends to think
in worst-case scenarios when it comes
to toxic waste and pediatric cancers.
Lack of proof isn't proof to a scientist, but it can scare the hell out of a
parent — sometimes rightly so.
"Scientists work in a much
different world, a controlled, lab-type
reality," says Rob Moore of the
Central States Education Center, a
Champaign-based environmental
group rooted in science and advocacy.
"They're not supposed to bring in
issues of emotionalism and loss. They
go to great lengths to remove themselves from the emotions."
What is certain is that emotions,
including the shrill voices of "hysterical mothers," have brought more
scientific scrutiny to bear on
Taylorville's "cancer cluster" —
four studies so far. If that attention
contributes to an understanding of
the disease, it could fairly be said that
the hysteria scientists have dismissed
has helped them to do their jobs.
"Does public outcry drive scientific
conclusions? I would hope not," says
Moore. "Should it drive scientific
inquiry? Absolutely. There's no way
around that."
Kevin McDermott is Statehouse bureau
chief for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. He
spent years covering the "cancer cluster"
issue for The State Journal-Register of
Springfield.
TRUST IN GOVERNMENT
Saving a river
or scheming to control land?
by Adriana Colindres
The idea certainly sounds well-
intentioned: Get the federal
government to select the ailing Illinois
River for the new American Heritage
Rivers Initiative, a program designed
to channel money and technical
know-how to 10 rivers that demonstrate a broad range of natural,
economic, scenic, historic, cultural
and recreational features. Then, take
advantage of that program, and
others, to nurse the silt-choked Illinois
back to health.
But the Heritage Rivers Initiative,
proposed by President Bill Clinton in
his 1997 State of the Union address,
has become a punching bag, with
critics expressing skepticism about
what the initiative really means and
whether it will threaten the rights of
property owners.
Liberty Matters, a nonprofit group
formed by land rights organizations
Illinois Issues March 1998 / 29
in Idaho, New York and Texas, has
called the initiative a federal scheme
to control land use through "aerial
photography and satellite surveillance." The plan "has demonstrated
the imperial intentions of the Clinton
Administration," Liberty Matters
announced on its Internet site.
Illustration by Mike Cramer
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In an effort to soothe such
worries, President Clinton said last
September the initiative will have
"no federal mandates, no regulations,
no restrictions on property holders'
rights."
Still, there are doubters. One is John
Robb, a western Illinois farmer who
has been vocal in urging citizens and
local governmental bodies to oppose
efforts to include the Illinois River in
the initiative.
Meanwhile, at least a half-dozen
Illinois counties, as well as the Illinois
Farm Bureau, have passed resolutions
opposing the program.
Jon Scholl, director of public policy
for the Farm Bureau, says his organization's members have a "fairly strong
mistrust" of the federal government,
much of it stemming from the
response to the flooding along the
state's river system in 1993.
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Robb cites two main objections to
the river initiative. First, the program
is being coordinated by the Council on
Environmental Quality, an arm of the
White House that Robb says has an
"environmental bias." Second, he adds,
property owners are unclear about the
implications of the program.
"We don't know what kind of
enforcement regulations they're going
to have, or what [federal officials] can
actually do to force a landowner to
comply with the plan," Robb says.
"Basically, we want to see what it is
that we're going to be involved in and
what's going to
be expected
of us."
U.S. Rep. Ray
LaHood, a
Peoria Republican and one
of the Illinois
River's leading
boosters, sees
those sentiments as
nonsense.
"If you listen
to John Robb,
you think if the
Illinois River
gets designated,
central Illinois
is going to be
inundated with
a bunch of
bureaucrats
telling them
what they can and cannot do,"
LaHood says. "It's the whole Chicken
Little philosophy that the sky is
falling."
Likewise, Lt. Gov. Bob Kustra, a
longtime advocate for the Illinois
River and the state's point man in the
attempt to get it included in the federal
initiative, says Robb and other skeptics
needn't be so skittish.
In what LaHood called a smart
political move, Kustra and Chicago
Mayor Richard Daley jointly nominated the 55-county Illinois River
watershed and its Chicago tributaries
for the Heritage River designation. "It
helps when you have a mayor that has
been supportive of the president on
several public policy issues and a
president who thinks highly of the job
the mayor is doing," Kustra says. But,
he adds, partisanship won't get in the
way of the restoration efforts along
the Illinois.
A panel of experts, probably
sometime this month or next, will
wrap up consideration of the 126
nominees and send its recommendations on the 10 finalists to the
president. Each Heritage River will
have a full-time liaison, called a
"navigator," whose job will be to help
line up federal and private resources
to tackle various aspects of river
restoration.
Despite opposing views on the
initiative, everyone agrees on one
point: The river and its watershed
need help. "There's no doubt about it,"
says Robb. "The Illinois River and the
Mississippi and Missouri rivers are all
filling up with sand and sediment.
Especially the Illinois. It's really
getting bad."
Sediment clogs the river,
necessitating dredging just to keep
boats and barges from getting stuck in
the muck. Further, the silt prevents
aquatic plants from taking root, and
that leaves the river unable to support
other forms of life, from clams to
geese. (See Illinois Issues, January
1997, page 22.)
Mike Platt, head of the Heartland
Water Resources Council in Peoria,
finds it hard to believe anyone
wouldn't want the Illinois River to be
picked for the federal initiative. Any
lessons learned during the process of
saving the Illinois, he says, could be
transferred to other rivers that are in
poor health.
He adds that the potential repercussions are huge. If the Illinois can be
revived, then perhaps other rivers can
meet with similar success. "But if we
can't do it here," he warns, "it's pretty
sure we can't do it anywhere else."
Adriana Colindres, a reporter in the
Copley Illinois Newspapers State Capitol
Bureau, covers state government for the
Peoria Journal Star and the Springfield
State Journal-Register and other Copleyowned newspapers.
30 / March 1998 Illinois Issues