Showing posts with label Pennsylvania. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pennsylvania. Show all posts

30 March 2011

Three Mile Island Haunts US Nuclear Policy


32 Years Later, Industry Still Recovering From Its Worst US Nuclear Disaster

At about dawn on March 28, 1979, Pete Velez was cruising through Middletown, Pa., past the Blue Room saloon where some of the guys from work drank after their shifts.
Velez was headed to work at Three Mile Island nuclear plant, where four 370-foot cooling towers stood proudly over the countryside, signs of a new age of technological progress, according to the 1982 book "The Warning -- Accident At Three Mile Island," by Mike Gray and Ira Rosen, an inside account of America's worst nuclear accident.
The book describes how Velez arrived to find cars backed up and figured it must be a security issue -- maybe someone left a door open. He chatted with the gate guard.
"What's the matter, you lose somebody?" Velez smiled.
"No."
"Well, what's going on?"
"Radiation emergency."
"A drill? At 6 o'clock in the morning?"
"It's no drill."
As radiation-protection foreman, Valez's job was to make sure no one was unnecessarily exposed. Fueled by adrenaline, he raced up stairs to the Unit Two control room and threw open the door to startling chaos. Packs of engineers, technicians and plant managers were huddled in the cavernous room, all talking over each other. The 90-foot long arching wall of lights and gauges, along with a shorter console that followed the same arc, were lit up like Christmas trees. Radiation alarms went off one after another, jangling the nerves of the trouble-shooters.
Velez carried a little green notebook for scribbling notes about anything that he thought might be important. At that moment he simply wrote, "Aw [expletive]."
It's been more than three decades since the worst nuclear plant crisis in the nation's history, and U.S. nuclear plants have boasted a mostly spotless safety record since then. But anxiety over radiation leaks at the crippled Fukushima nuclear plant in Japan have have again renewed fear over nuclear plant safety.
Ultimately, it was deemed that the Three Mile Island accident was caused by faulty equipment and bad decisions made amid chaos -- "a combination of personnel error, design deficiencies, and component failures," as the Nuclear Regulatory Commission summed it up.
Investigations and cleanup revealed that the core of the plant partially melted down, unbeknownst to the harried officials working feverishly inside the plant at the time. The plant was dangerously close to a total meltdown -- a full-scale national disaster.
Remarkably, most of the radioactivity released by the partial meltdown was contained inside the plant and it resulted in no long-term health effects or environmental damage, most experts agree.
But five days of panic in Pennsylvania left lasting legacies. Three Mile Island became synonymous with nuclear catastrophe, stoked public fear of nuclear power, led to an overhaul of plant safety rules and effectively drained the steam from an entire industry – no new nuclear plants were ordered for 28 years.
Three Mile Island "remains the single most important event in the fifty-year history of nuclear power regulation in the United States," leading Three Mile Island expert J. Samuel Walker, says in his 2004 book "Three Mile Island – A Nuclear Crisis In Historical Perspective."

What Went Wrong

Nuclear power plants generate energy by boiling water into steam that turns turbines, which produce electricity. To generate steam, nuclear plants use heat from fission – the splitting of atoms of uranium fuel. More than 36,000 zirconium alloy rods packed with about 100 tons of uranium pellets were bundled and placed inside the reactor core.
The chaos that Velez found when he arrived at work was set in motion inside Unit Two at about 4 a.m.
Media reports and books that chronicle the inside story of the crisis – including reports by PBS, in the Washington Post and the books by Walker, Gray and Rosen, and "TMI: 25 Years Later" by Bonnie Osif, Anthony Baratta and Thomas Conkling -- explain how it unfolded.
Pumps that move water through the reactor failed, prompting the plant's massive steam-powered turbines and the reactor itself to shut down.
When heat and pressure inside the reactor increased, a relief valve popped open. But the valve malfunctioned and did not automatically close when the pressure decreased.
Cooling water flowed out of the valve, and that led to partial meltdown – the zirconium rods failed and uranium pellets melted, releasing highly radioactive vapor, some of which was vented into the atmosphere in the following hours.

Communications Fail Amid Chaos

Plant managers and technicians tried to diagnose the fast-multiplying problems as instruments showed conflicting information about the temperature and pressure in the core. Radiation meters started clicking and officials at times were awkwardly communicating through respirators. They missed clues that would have tipped them to the source of the trouble. They made mistakes that made problems worse.
It wasn't until late in the day that plant officials circulated enough water through the reactor that it covered the melting core that had been exposed for hours. The temperature began to decrease.
But public fear was growing fast as officials tried to regain control of the plant. By March 30, concern was spiking about the radiation that had been leaked into the atmosphere. Panic spread as scientists fretted over a hydrogen bubble that built up inside the reactor, which officials initially were worried could burn or explode.
Communications broke down. Politicians, health officials, federal bureaucrats, plant officials and executives with Babcock and Wilcox, which designed the plant, initially did not have their stories straight, which fed public anxiety.
Solid information was scarce. Increasingly hostile journalists couldn't get straight answers.
In the early hours, it was hard for officials outside the plant to get a direct phone line to the control room. Even President Jimmy Carter couldn't get through and ordered that direct lines be established.
"There was just the most bizarre flow and lack of information," Susan Stranahan, who was part of a Philadelphia Inquirer team that won a Pulitzer Prize for its Three Mile Island coverage, said at a 20-year anniversary event.

'The China Syndrome'

Public fear was further stoked by a bizarre coincidence. The movie "The China Syndrome," the fictional story of a nuclear plant accident cover-up starring Jane Fonda and Jack Lemmon, had been released just 12 days before the Three Mile Island incident. The title is a reference to the suggestion that if a nuclear plant core ever melted down it would burn a hole through the Earth all the way to China. In the movie, a scientist says that a meltdown would make "an area the size of Pennsylvania" permanently uninhabitable. In combination with the real-life drama, the film became a blockbuster.
This crisis was an early test for Pennsylvania's Republican Gov. Richard Thornburgh, who had been on the job just 68 days, he has recalled in media interviews.
"The minute I heard that there had been an accident at a nuclear facility, I knew we were in another dimension," Thornburgh told PBS for a 1999 special on Three Mile Island.
The governor quickly grew frustrated with conflicting information from officials at the plant, its owner Metropolitan Edison, and the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. The following day, Thornburgh ordered the evacuation of pregnant women and preschool-age children within a five-mile radius. About 140,000 fled.
Carter watched developments closely. The president was a nuclear engineer and understood the potential danger. On April 1, Carter and his wife Rosalynn went to the plant to help restore calm. The visit was brief but eased public fear and marked the end of the immediate crisis.

Health, Environmental Effects

Unit Two never operated again. It had cost about $700 million to construct but was open just three months. Cleanup, which continued until 1993, cost about $1 billion, the New York Times reported. The reactor's two cooling towers stand quiet to this day, in contrast to the two steam-belching Unit One towers.
Operations of the Unit One reactor were halted after the meltdown but restarted in 1985. The NRC is considering relicensing it through 2034.
It is generally agreed that the radiation released by Unit Two caused no lasting harm.
According to the NRC, among the agencies that did detailed studies of the radiological effects of the meltdown were the NRC, the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department Health and Human Services, the Department of Energy, and the state of Pennsylvania. Studies suggest that the average radiation dose to about 2 million people in the area was only about 1 millirem -- a safe dose, according to the NRC. A chest X-ray delivers about 6 millirem.
Among the recent follow-up studies was a University of Pittsburgh study of 32,100 people who lived within five miles of the plant. It found no significant difference in the rate of cancer deaths compared to the general population, the New York Times reported.
The NRC also says that investigators believe the environment was not damaged. The agency says that thousands of samples of air, water, milk, vegetation, soil and food were collected in the months following the meltdown and only "very low" levels of radionuclides were attributed to the plant.

Three Mile Island's Legacy

Nuclear power in its early days was hailed as a brilliant, futuristic answer to the nation's energy woes. The plants would produce power that was "too cheap to meter" with no greenhouse gases, industry advocates claimed.
But Three Mile Island left a legacy of public skepticism and fear that lingers a generation later. Industry advocates say that anxiety had largely faded -- at least until the disaster in Japan -- but the crisis at Three Mile Island dramatically altered the way Americans think about nuclear energy.
Three Mile Island effectively halted the advance of nuclear power in the energy-hungry U.S. In the wake of the crisis, plans that were under way for 74 new plants were canceled, according to the Union of Concerned Scientists. Since 1979, a number of plants have been decommissioned and no new plants were ordered for nearly a generation.
Today, 104 aging U.S. reactors produce about 20 percent of the nation's energy. In recent years, amid a race to develop "clean" energy and reduce oil dependence, nuclear power has enjoyed a renaissance, with powerful lawmakers singing its praises. In the last two years, nuclear utilities have filed license applications with the NRC to construct up to 26 new plants, although it would take years for the new reactors to be approved and constructed.
Proponents note that, unlike coal plants, nuclear power produces no greenhouse gases. They cite an excellent safety record since 1979. New plants also generate jobs, advocates say.
But the industry still faces obstacles, including heightened fears about safety renewed by the disaster in Japan.
The industry also is mired in a long-standing toxic debate over waste storage. Because it's extremely expensive to build nuclear plants, economic forces also remain a hurdle to industry expansion.
So does the ghost of Unit Two.
"Three Mile Island was almost 30 years ago, so perhaps the industry and the NRC have forgotten about it," Dave Lochbaum, a director at the Union of Concerned Scientists, said at a 29th anniversary event last year. "But you can bet that even the people who welcome new plants in their communities will want to know if what happened at Three Mile Island could happen to them. As of right now, the industry and the NRC haven't done enough to ensure them it won't."

04 December 2010

ACTIVISM: Yet ANOTHER Fracking problem ... "accidents"

Rise in fracking accidents prompts anti-drilling rallies

Published Dec 4, 2010 11:18 AM 
 
Contrary to gas drilling industry claims that hydraulic fracturing is “accident free,” Texas-based XTO Energy has racked up 31 violations at 20 wells drilled in the Marcellus Shale in Pennsylvania in 2010.

XTO’s latest accident involved a leak of up to 13,000 gallons of chemically contaminated drilling wastewater that polluted a stream and a spring in north-central Pennsylvania’s Lycoming County, says the state’s Department of Environmental Protection. The leak was caused by a valve which was left open.

In June, Exxon paid $30 billion to merge with XTO Energy, making Exxon/XTO the largest natural gas producer in the U.S.

Hydraulic fracturing involves blasting millions of gallons of water, sand and chemicals into wells to break apart shale and release natural gas. The wastewater that returns to the surface is a toxic, sometimes radioactive, sludge containing sulfates, benzene, chloride, toluene and other chemicals used in the fracking process.

Accidents like the one in Lycoming County occur at the rate of nearly one a day at wells across the Marcellus Shale, which spans the states of Pennsylvania, New York, West Virginia and Ohio.

A Scripps Howard News Service investigation of the drilling industry over the last decade found 1,972 violations for pollution and contamination in Ohio.

Pennsylvania officials have issued 8,309 industry-related violations since 2007. The Pennsylvania Land Trust Association found 1,056 serious environmental violations tied to drilling in the shale between the start of 2008 and Aug. 20 of this year. Gas companies improperly sealed their wells 50 times, potentially causing gas to migrate into groundwater.

“There’s so many more violations that we’re trying to keep on top of,” said Jamie Legenos, spokesperson for the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection. (Scripps News, Nov. 18). One problem the investigation notes is the lack of proper paperwork or follow-up due to understaffed oversight agencies.

The lack of federal and state regulations contributes to this problem, with drilling companies frequently ignoring local laws intended to limit the environmental impact. In the last three years, the natural gas industry has tripled state campaign contributions to guarantee election of pro-drilling candidates like Pennsylvania’s governor-elect, Tom Corbett.

This has prompted anti-drilling activists to sound the alarm and increase their mobilizing activities against fracking.

Gas Truth of Central Pennsylvania is calling for an inauguration day rally against “Toxic Tom” on Jan. 18 in Harrisburg, the state capital. Rally demands include a moratorium on further drilling in the state; regular inspections of existing wells; disclosure of the chemicals used in fracking; and no “forced pooling” (allowing gas companies to drill when properties border those with existing wells even if landowners refuse to sign leases).

A “warm-up” rally is planned for Dec. 6 in Wellsboro, Pa., where former Pennsylvania governor and Homeland Security chief, Tom Ridge, is “shilling for drilling” at a Chamber of Commerce breakfast. Ridge, now a drilling industry consultant, is suspected of being behind recent spying on anti-drilling activists by the Institute of Terrorism Research and Response under a no-bid contract with the Pennsylvania Homeland Security.

Wellsboro, in Tioga County, was also the site of a 35-mile spill of fracking fluids along a highway in October.
Under capitalism, the drive for profits overtakes everything, including protection of the environment. It is important that both upcoming rallies will target corporate greed as the factor behind the public policies that are affecting the water, land and air in the state.


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28 November 2010


Pennsylvania Gas Drillers Dumping Radioactive Waste in New YorkPrint
Tuesday, 23 November 2010
Written by Peter Mantius


Dr. Earl Robinson, a pulmonologist who lives less than a mile away, noted that people who live near landfills often have higher rates of lung and bladder cancer than those who don’t.
Dr. Earl Robinson, a pulmonologist who lives less than a mile away, noted that people who live near landfills often have higher rates of lung and bladder cancer than those who don’t.
ELMIRA, N.Y. -- Trucks hauling rock cuttings from drilling for natural gas in the Marcellus Shale formation in Pennsylvania regularly cross the New York State border these days to dump in the Chemung County Landfill seven miles east of Elmira.
The Marcellus formation is characterized by unusually high readings of naturally occurring radioactive material, or NORM, so most of the cuttings are probably radioactive. The Chemung Landfill, a former gravel pit, has never been licensed to handle low-level radioactive waste.
So how can the landfill’s private operators get clearance from the county and state environmental regulators to become a regional dump for radioactive drilling wastes?
The short answer: Provide the revenue-hungry county a rich payout, exploit a legal loophole, and presto, it’s a done deal.
The longer answer: Regulations haven’t kept pace with the recent widespread use of an invasive new drilling technology used to tap the Marcellus.
“There are many aspects of this new industrial activity that outpace existing regs. Radiological regulation is just one of them,” said Anthony Ingraffea, a Cornell University geology professor who has tracked the evolution of natural gas drilling for decades.
The latest variation of hydraulic fracturing now commonly used in Marcellus shale mining in Pennsylvania has never been allowed in New York State, but it is expected to be approved soon. Ingraffea said the New York Department of Environmental Conservation will need broader legal authority and a much deeper staff to cope with its considerable side effects.
But the DEC isn’t there yet, so there are legal gray areas that provide opportunities, and Casella Waste Systems is mining them.
In 2005, Casella entered into a 25-year, $90-million contract with Chemung County to operate its landfill, which had been taking in about 80,000 tons a year of garbage and municipal waste.
In April, the company and the county agreed to certain amendments to the deal and reaffirmed their goal of eventually increasing the landfill’s capacity to 417,000 tons per year.
“It’s been a great partnership,” said Larry Shilling, regional vice president for Casella, which has a pending application with the DEC for authority to boost capacity to 180,000 tons.
The DEC hasn’t raised major objections to the latest application. Nor did it object when it learned in January 2010 that for months the company had been accepting up to 2,000 tons of Pennsylvania drilling waste a week without first asking the agency for permission.
Casella also began diverting a major portion of its Chemung County municipal waste to other landfills to leave room for the Marcellus cuttings.
The DEC still isn’t sure when the new waste stream started because a lawyer for Casella said it was hard to pin down an exact date. While the DEC has taken it all in stride, several local residents who live near the landfill are quite agitated.
Dr. Earl Robinson, a pulmonologist who lives less than a mile away, noted that people who live near landfills often have higher rates of lung and bladder cancer than those who don’t.
Before Casella arrived, the Chemung Landfill had a history of violations involving industrial hazardous waste, so it may be partly to blame for the county’s problems with lung and bladder cancer.
From 2003-2007, the county’s bladder cancer incidence rate for males was 49.5 percent higher than the state average, while the lung cancer rate was 27.0 percent higher, according to the New York State Cancer Registry. In the 1999-2002 period, Chemung County had the highest bladder cancer rate in the state for males.
Obviously, Casella’s recent acceptance of Marcellus cuttings had nothing to do with those elevated levels in the past. But the new practice adds a new level of concern, Robinson said.
“Drill cuttings contain radioactive waste that will release radon gas, a carcinogen, and this will be dispersed into the atmosphere,” he said.

It may also find its way into drinking water supplies, Robinson added, because one engineering report commissioned by the county found that part of the landfill was “approximately 500 feet horizontally from the Chemung Valley Aquifer.”
Robinson is a member of a citizens group, Residents for the Preservation of Lowman and Chemung (RFPLC), that is challenging Casella’s bid to boost capacity to 180,000 tons per year.
RFPLC’s central claim is that Marcellus drilling wastes can’t be disposed of in a landfill that isn’t licensed to handle low-level radioactive waste. Such landfills are rare, and Chemung isn’t one of them.
The group’s argument echoes a formal statement sent to the DEC last December by the New York State Conference of Environmental Health Directors, which said in part:“Under no circumstances should drill cuttings be disposed outside licensed landfills without testing to show they are not a threat to human health or the environment.”
The DEC hasn’t conducted its own radiological testing of any wastes at the Chemung Landfill. Instead, it relied on submittals from Casella that appeared to show that neither drill cuttings nor soil contaminated with brine from Marcellus wells were dangerously radioactive.
Moreover, Lisa Schwartz, a lawyer for the DEC, argued that the level of radioactivity in the wastes sent to the Chemung Landfill wasn’t even a relevant legal question in the proceeding on Casella’s application to expand capacity. Her position reflected Casella’s stance on the issue.
In September, Edward Buhrmaster, an administrative law judge for the DEC, ruled that RFPLC’s challenge to the legality of dumping potentially radioactive wastes was irrelevant. He limited the Casella proceeding to the question of whether to allow the capacity to grow to 180,000 tons per year.
The citizens' group has appealed to the acting commissioner of the DEC.Under the law, Schwartz had argued, the Chemung Landfill could accept radioactive shale drill cuttings so long as they were not “processed or concentrated.” And she argued that the Chemung wastes were not. Ingraffea, among others, disagreed. In a pro bono memo filed in support of the RFPLC, the Cornell geologist stated that rock cuttings from drilling are typically carried to the surface by “drilling mud” that has been saturated with NORM. The rock cuttings are later separated from the mud in an industrial process known as “dewatering.”
Buhrmaster, the administrative law judge, struck Ingraffea’s testimony from the record along with comments made by two other scientific experts on behalf of RFPLC.
Buhrmaster concluded that the Marcellus shale cuttings were not processed and the landfill was legally entitled to make drill cuttings its entire waste stream -- up to its capacity.
Thomas S. West, an attorney for Casella, argued that if RFPLC’s central contention had any validity, which he denied, “it is a matter of statewide applicability that should not be determined in the context of a specific application for a particular facility.”
He said RFPLC could follow other procedural avenues to pursue its claim that radioactive cuttings had to go to a landfill licensed to handle them.
In addition to serving as Casella’s attorney, West has also served as a lobbyist to Chesapeake Energy, one of the companies that has dumped Marcellus brine-contaminated soil into the Chemung Landfill.
West also argued that the citizens’ group’s concerns about potentially radioactive wastes were addressed by the fact that Casella had installed radiological monitors at the landfill to warn of loads that exceeded set limits for radioactivity.
In April, Buhrmaster had expressed enthusiasm for on-site monitoring. But Schwartz acknowledged weeks later that the DEC staff hadn’t seen details of how the monitors would be operated and said their effectiveness “cannot be confirmed.”
Photo: Tony InGraffea
Photo: Tony InGraffea
In any case, Ingraffea said the DEC’s decision not to oppose the importation of Marcellus drill cuttings from Pennsylvania to Chemung “creates a precedent for a de facto open-door policy for potentially unacceptable materials to be transported into New York State without adequate regulations in place.”
The DEC is rushing to complete its final rules for the latest brand of hydraulic fracturing in the New York Marcellus shale, and agency officials have said they expect to finish in early 2011.
The rules are spelled out in the agency’s draft Supplemental Generic Environmental Impact Statement, which drillers plan to use to speed through the permitting process in New York. The draft has drawn thousands of critical comments.
Many of those criticisms have targeted the DEC’s approach to NORM and radioactive wastes.
When the agency tested brine from all 12 of New York State’s conventional Marcellus wells in 2008 and 2009 it found alarmingly high levels of radioactivity in more than half of them. Readings for the extremely dangerous Radium 226 were up to 260 times the limit allowed to be released into the environment.
Those readings alarmed the New York State Department of Health, which has discouraged the use of Marcellus brine as a roadway de-icer unless the radioactive materials can be removed first.
The DEC’s test findings also drew the attention of the New York City Department of Environmental Protection. “These data raise serious issues for public health, particularly with disposal of both solid waste (i.e. drill cuttings and equipment) and wastewater,” the NYCDEP wrote in a hard-hitting Dec. 9, 2009 letter to the DEC.
The city’s top environmental officer, Steven W. Lawitts, wrote that the DEC was obliged to do further analysis of the issue, adding: “Such an analysis must be completed before any activity that is likely to generate radioactive waste can move forward.”The DEC, however, said it intended to wait for the results of actual drilling in New York’s Marcellus. Meeting Lawitts’ more rigorous standard became less of a legal imperative after the DEC announced in April that natural gas wells drilled in the New York City watershed could not use the SGEIS process. Instead, drillers would be required to go through the lengthy environmental impact process well-by-well, a prohibitive expense that effectively curbs the latest brand of hydraulic fracturing within the New York watershed. If the watershed was spared hydraulic fracturing of the Marcellus, the DEC was spared a legal confrontation over radiological regulation.
The DEC has also drawn criticism for its failure to draw a sharp distinction between the latest version of hydraulic fracturing and the more benign techniques used in the past.
The draft DGEIS, many critics argue, needs to be rewritten to reflect special new impacts of the latest technique, which now dominates Marcellus mining. Ingraffea calls it “high-volume, slickwater fracking from long laterals on multi-well pads.”
Translated, that means drilling horizontally for several thousand feet along a deep shale formation from a well pad that may contain eight or more wells --  using up to 5 million of gallons of water per well with sand and chemicals that reduce friction and kill bacteria.
Before it’s allowed in New York, Ingraffea said, the state should require radiation monitoring of all wastes, solid and liquid, at the drilling pad so they can be sent to proper disposal destinations.
“Let the regs catch up with technology,” he said.

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