The Saturday following Hurricane Helene, soldiers warned Whitney Anderson about the mud.
Anderson and her family were going for a hike up a hill to get a view of Biltmore Village, a historic shopping and dining area within the city limits of Asheville, North Carolina, that was devastated by flooding from the storm. Thick mud encased the village, leaving roads buried and cars partially submerged.
As the group started up the hill, members of the National Guard warned them to stay away from the mud, saying it was highly toxic. In the weeks to come, Anderson learned that residents in nearby towns along the French Broad River were reporting that the mud caused chemical burns and ate through clothing and boots. Others complained of foul odors permeating the air as the sludge dried.
A few miles north of Biltmore Village on the banks of the river sits Silver-Line Plastics Corporation, which manufactures PVC pipes. These pipes are made with polyvinyl chloride, a synthetic plastic made up of the highly toxic and explosive chemical vinyl chloride. The United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) recently took steps to better regulate vinyl chloride after a train shipment of the chemical derailed in East Palestine, Ohio, last year, leading to a massive ball of burning gas.
On October 15, nearly three weeks after the hurricane, Silver-Line posted a note on its website that they “receive already manufactured PVC resin, which is non-hazardous and inert.” Until that point, there appeared to be no easy way for Anderson or other residents to know whether vinyl chloride was used in the plant or could have leaked into the surrounding area.
All of this got Anderson thinking: Following the hurricane, what toxins could have been released that we…
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Auteur: Helen Santoro
