Author: Andrew Wilkins

As high gas prices portend the end of the cheap-oil age, the potential for a planet-wide upheaval in transportation also seems a real possibility. The U.S. imports more than 50 percent of its oil, most of it from the unstable Middle East.

Memphian Andrew Couch thinks he has a better idea: biofuels. Couch’s company, Deep Fried Rides (DeepFriedRides.com), makes biodiesel out of waste cooking grease and retrofits cars to run on it. He’s even planning to open an environmentally friendly gas station.

“It’s got to happen,” Couch declares. “It benefits the environment, aids in carbon reduction, and it’s domestic and renewable. We can grow it, and we can grow it again. There’s no need to go to a foreign source.”

The idea isn’t new. The diesel engine and Henry Ford’s Model T were both originally designed to run on biofuel, Couch says, but petroleum eventually won out.

Now, many analysts say we’ve passed the peak of global oil production. As more countries industrialize, competition for the oil that remains drives prices even higher.

The recently passed National Energy Bill is loaded with giveaways to big oil and coal producers, but it also increases tax incentives for biofuel. In addition, a coalition of 30 governors recently urged the federal government to do even more to promote the transition to renewable fuel.

Other countries are already embracing the concept. Brazil, for example, encourages the use of ethanol made from sugar cane, and biofuel proponents say there’s no reason that practice can’t take hold here. Many new cars sold in the U.S. are “flex-fuel”-designed — meaning they can run on ethanol or petroleum.

Rolling along in Couch’s mid-1980s black Mercedes diesel “greaser,” you can’t tell any difference between it and a gasoline-powered car. The fuel efficiency and acceleration are the same. The engine wears better too. And even taking into account the unmistakable odor of french fries or egg rolls, emissions are considerably lower.

Some states are moving to require a biofuel blend as a pollution-reduction measure. As Shelby County planners work to stay within federal Environmental Protection Agency standards, a biofuel-blend requirement could be an easy way to reduce local emissions.

Manufacturing plants that create fuel from waste oil and plant material are springing up around the country, and the trend is being pushed by the farm lobbies, which are interested in the economic prospects of growing fuel ingredients. The major oil corporations are getting involved as well and will buy all the biodiesel small companies can make, Couch says. Even singer Willie Nelson is getting into the sustainable-fuel game — selling “BioWillie” to truckers in Texas.

Phillip Peeler recently converted his 1999 Volkswagen to run on grease. He says finding an alternative to oil is important for America.

“It’s a good investment for the future, and the future is now,” Peeler says. “When we do it ourselves, the money stays in our own country; it recycles and makes us stronger. The way things are now, we can’t have an independent foreign policy because we have to do what [oil-producing countries] say or they will cut us off.”

Couch will retrofit a car to run on grease for about $1,500. Conversion kits can be purchased at GreaseCar.com for $850, but Couch says if they’re not installed correctly, a car’s engine could be ruined.

Collecting grease for fuel requires a willing restaurant manager, a pump, and a strainer. The process takes 30 minutes to an hour, Couch says. Biodiesel or regular diesel is still needed to start a car and to turn it off, but Couch says one tank of biodiesel and several grease collections carried him almost 900 miles. Couch charges $2 a gallon for his fuel, which is cheaper than regular diesel.

“There’s no reason why people with a diesel car shouldn’t be running [biodiesel],” Couch says. “The driving culture isn’t going anywhere. Even if all new cars were hydrogen-powered and solar, we’d still have these around for a while,” he adds, pointing to a car he’s converting to grease power.

“People have the future covered,” he says. “I’m working on the right-now.”

But Couch also has a vision for the future: his own solar-powered gas station that will be a model of convenience and sustainability, providing biodiesel fuel, recycled grease, engine retrofits, and natural snacks, topped off by full service with a smile.

Every time it rains, stormwater rushing across pavement picks up oils, chemicals, and other pollutants that are eventually deposited into our streams and rivers.

Unlike point-source pollution — the waste that comes, for example, from a pipe — non-point pollution’s threat to surface water and groundwater is less well known but just as real. Fortunately, through activism and education this issue is being brought to the attention of government regulators and the public.

A recent Sierra Club report examining industries along one Memphis waterway raises the question: Do local governmental environmental agencies have the resources to enforce the laws protecting our water supply?

Located along Cypress Creek in North Memphis are chemical companies, junkyards, auto-repair businesses, homes, and Cypress Middle School, each making its own contribution to the waterway.

According to federal regulations, industrial sites must have permits requiring stormwater testing. But an examination of Cypress Creek’s industrial neighbors by a local environmental-protection organization found these regulations aren’t always being followed or enforced.

“There are all these stormwater-pollution regulations on the books, but state environmental agencies don’t have the manpower or will to enforce them,” says James Baker, a Sierra Club member.

Recently retired from the city of Memphis as a testing expert, Baker is using his experience to show how some companies aren’t doing what’s required to protect our water.

By searching public water-quality records, Baker found five out of the 15 industries sending stormwater into Cypress Creek had no permit and another’s was not up-to-date. He also found several of these industries were discharging up to nine times the levels of pollutants allowed by law.

As manager of the Division of Water Pollution Control for the Tennessee Division of Environment and Conservation (TDEC), Terry Templeton wants the public to know stormwater pollution is just one aspect of a complex and multilayered regulatory system.

Along with issuing permits, doing pollution testing, and following up on complaints, his department is responsible for overseeing stormwater regulations for potentially hundreds of industrial facilities and 400 active construction sites in three Tennessee counties.

“We are mainly a complaint-driven department,” Templeton says. “If the public sees a property that’s a problem, they can call us at 368-7959 and we’ll look into it. And if there’s a remedy, we’ll sure do it.”

Industries with on-site pollution that can be potentially carried away by stormwater need a permit. This requires filing the appropriate paperwork as well as conducting a lab test every year and a visual test every quarter, Templeton says.

TDEC has done mass mailings to inform industries of stormwater requirements, but Templeton says his office doesn’t have the manpower to check on every company. Representatives from TDEC will be sent to the industries out of compliance along Cypress Creek for an inspection and to inform them of their lawful stormwater responsibilities, Templeton says. Companies that don’t meet requirements can be levied a fine of $2,500.

Baker doesn’t blame local TDEC officials for not being as vigilant as they could be. He knows from experience how overworked municipal employees can be. That’s why, he says, it’s important for citizens and groups like the Sierra Club to help keep them informed.

“We should have citizens trained in water-testing procedures adopt a site to make sure these industries are doing what they are supposed to do,” Baker says. “It’s up to the public to show TDEC that these issues are important and need to be addressed.”

Stormwater pollution isn’t just a problem in Cypress Creek. Larry Smith, executive director of the Wolf River Conservancy, says he has seen the Wolf run green and white due to stormwater contamination.

“Pipe discharges were addressed first, and non-point pollution is the second half of the Clean Water Act,” Smith says. “Its importance depends on how dirty we are willing to accept our water being when we know surface water is connected to our aquifer.”

Smith says groundwater on the upper Wolf River east of Memphis is almost 100 percent connected to the surface water. Recent studies have shown that the clay layer that supposedly protects our aquifers from contamination is permeable along rivers and that some surface water feeds directly into the aquifer.

Though most Memphians don’t realize it, Smith says, our groundwater has been contaminated through the clay layer in three places: the Carrier Air Conditioning plant near Collierville, the landfill near Shelby Farms, and the Pine Hills Golf Course in South Memphis.

Tom Lawrence, manager of the stormwater program for the city of Memphis, says there are some basic things citizens and companies can do to reduce stormwater pollution. These include not dumping trash, leaves, grass clippings, or pollutants into storm drains. Yard waste clogs drains, and contaminants flow unfiltered into streams and rivers. Companies should drain oil from unused engines, cover machine parts, and hire a consultant to assess the best way to reduce stormwater pollution.

Soil is the number-one pollutant in Tennessee, so if anyone witnesses dirt washing off a construction site, they should call Lawrence’s office at 576-6721. Construction sites that don’t use silt fences and best-management practices can clog streams, killing aquatic life.

“We really want to get the number out there,” Lawrence says. “We don’t get too many calls, and we want the public to know to call us if they see any kind of problem.” n

This spring will bring the second phase of state stormwater legislation that requires smaller cities like Bartlett and Germantown to have stormwater programs. Lawrence says their cooperation will help educate the public and reduce suburban pollution.

“Who’s got the best water in the country?,” Gwendolyn Shorter asks her Cypress Middle School students in a classroom looking out over Cypress Creek.

“Memphis!” they shout in unison. And through the Storm Water Environmental Education Program they, along with two other schools, are learning how they can prevent pollution and protect our future water supply.

The children learn about the water cycle and how valuable and limited a resource good drinking water really is. Project manager Lora Gibbons says educating the children can assure they establish good habits early and that they, in turn, educate others in the community.

It’s been 30 years since the Clean Water Act was passed and still 40 percent of assessed surfaced water in the United States is unsafe for

fishing, swimming, or supporting aquatic life. In some places clean water is in short supply, forcing some American communities to process sewage for drinking.

Detailing his plans to increase water-quality awareness, Baker extends a bottle filled with Memphis aquifer water to the dim winter sunlight. “Water is a basic right,” he says. “Three times the number of people die each day from bad drinking water than died from the 9/11 attacks. We,ve got to protect what we’ve got.”.

To report potential water quality violations call TDEC at 368-7959, or the stormwater program of the city of Memphis at 576-6721.

Anyone who’s traveled in Europe — or in most major American cities — has probably enjoyed the benefits of a fine public transportation system.

Clean, on time, and moderately priced, light-rail and subway systems bring a certain refinement to rush hour. Rather than fight traffic, commuters of all social strata are able to sit back, relax, read the newspaper, and get ready for their day.

Still, in Memphis, as in most of America, most people use a personal automobile to get around. With the federal government seemingly willing to do whatever it takes to keep gas prices low, and funding 80 percent of local road projects, it’s no wonder we’re so auto-centric.

But traffic congestion is getting worse every year, and city and state planners say road-building simply cannot keep up with the rising flood of traffic. They are increasingly looking towards improving the rail system to reduce traffic and pollution, save lives, and, in the long run, money.

“If we look at what it costs to improve the interstate — to fix existing structures and build new roads — compared to the light-rail system, light rail is cheaper and easier to maintain in the long run,” says Carter Gray, metropolitan planning coordinator for Memphis’ Office of Planning and Development. “I-240 is out to eight lanes in some places, and after that we have nowhere else to go.”

The Memphis Area Transit Authority has been working for a number of months on expanding the downtown trolley line down Madison Avenue to Cleveland. The $74 million project will connect downtown and the Medical District.

That trolley line will eventually be part of a larger, faster, and more modern regional light-rail system. Three lines will serve the area’s fastest-growing regions: south to the airport and north Mississippi, east to Collierville, and north to Millington.

The Medical District trolley line is slated to open in March 2004, and MATA is planning for the first line of the light-rail system (from Madison to the airport) to be open by 2009. Two routes for the line are being considered: one would run from Madison, down Cleveland to Lamar, to Airways; the other would run from Madison down Cooper, across Young, to Airways.

The route along Lamar could spur development in a poverty-stricken area, says Albert Crawford, president of the Airways-Lamar Business Association. The University of Memphis economics department has developed a study on how many of the existing structures could be used for high-density office, residential, and commercial space. Crawford says such development would bring hope and opportunities to a declining part of town.

But while some are excited about the prospect of a light-rail line through their neighborhood, many businesses along the Madison trolley corridor have suffered during its construction.

Richard Alley, owner of the Tobacco Bowl, says MATA has not kept businesses along Madison informed about its progress and has broken many promises about the construction timetable. During ten months of construction, Alley says, the workers often abandoned the job-site for up to a month at a time.

Even so, Alley says his confidence in MATA’s ability to build a regional rail system hasn’t been shaken.

“I’m excited about the trolley extension. I never thought it was a bad idea,” Alley says. “And the regional rail system is very necessary. They just need to plan a little better. They learned as they go along. We were their practice case.”

Tom Fox, MATA’s director of planning and capital projects, agrees that MATA learned a lot from the Madison extension and says it will do better in the future in keeping construction on track and business owners informed. He also says that the light-rail plans remain very open; if a neighborhood doesn’t want it, MATA has other options.

Many cities use abandoned railroad lines for their light-rail routes, but as one of the nation’s largest shipping centers, Memphis’ rail lines are still used for freight. Gray says a new billion-dollar rail center is being planned that would reroute the city’s five major rail lines to southwest Memphis. The new rail-yard could free up the city’s rail lines for passenger traffic and keep roads from being obstructed by trains.

Tennessee transportation officials are also trying to encourage shippers to use railroads rather than trucks. In some areas trucks account for 20 to 30 percent of all traffic, wasting fuel and endangering passenger cars, says Ben Smith, a planner with the Tennessee Department of Transportation. It will be expensive to update the state’s rail system, but Smith says railroads are easier to maintain than roads and can carry many times more freight for less money.

TDOT officials also want to put more resources into developing passenger trains across Tennessee. Many neighboring states are updating their passenger rail systems, Smith says, making it easier to link to other state and regional rail systems.

Future Perfect?

It’s a Monday morning in 2020. In Collierville, a couple parks their automobile at a light-rail station and boards the clean, comfortable, 90-foot car for the 20-minute ride to their downtown offices. They are two of 10,000 citizens projected to ride the train every day, according to a planning report.

Development has flourished along the light-rail route, providing new housing and businesses for depressed neighborhoods, while saving the county $500 million in school building costs. The city’s scattered and sprawling development patterns of the 1990s have been redirected toward the rail lines through land-use regulations and infrastructure investment strategies.

Many thought Memphians would never park their cars, but with farsighted thinking and planning the city has cured its sprawl problem and become a cleaner, more livable place.

Just a 45-minute drive from Midtown, northeast Shelby County is remarkably rural.

Shady two-lane roads split forested tracts and

farms. Houses sit on large multi-acre plots with

horses and barns. Locals stop their cars in the

middle of the street to give directions. But change may be

in the air. Literally.

Three thousand residents have signed a

petition against two new power plants planned for their

area. Is it a case of NIMBY (not in my backyard)

activism, or, as they claim, a bad deal for everyone in

Shelby County?

Gathered around Tammy Fleskes’ kitchen

table, eating pizza, six of the activists talk about the

proliferation of merchant power plants in West

Tennessee and the one planned for 600 yards from

Sleskes’ property line.

A subsidiary of bankrupt energy giant Enron

purchased the land for the plant, and environmental

permits were recently cleared, they say. Now their

only chance to stop the plant is to convince the

Shelby County Commission not to change their zoning

classification from rural/residential to industrial.

“Memphis tries to promote itself with its

high quality of life and its ability to attract quality

industries, but in this case, we get all the pollution in

exchange for five or six [power plant] jobs,” says

Mark Lawrence, a member of Citizens for Responsible

Development. “And the industries that do benefit

us, like Dupont and the Allen Steam Plant, might

have to scale back or install millions of dollars worth

of pollution controls because of this new plant.”

(This is because only a certain level of total pollution in

an area is allowed by law.)

Lawrence adds that since power from the

proposed plant will be sold on the wholesale market, it will

not be taxed in Shelby County. Factor in the added

noise and air pollution, opponents say, and the new

plant is a bad deal for their community and the county.

Some published reports have the plant

scheduled to begin construction in May 2004, but plans are

on hold until Enron’s financial problems can be

worked out. Planned for a 100-acre plot now occupied

by cornfields, forests, and a lake, the plant is

estimated to cost over $100 million and produce 678

megawatts of power.

Lawrence says changing their area to

industrial zoning would mean it would be almost impossible

to sell their homes (unless it’s to an industrial

venture), and in the case of storm or fire damage, they

would not be allowed to rebuild. The Arlington area is

the last area available for residential development in

Shelby County, he contends. Activists fear that once an

industrial plant is built, the whole area will soon

become industrial because no one wants to live near

a polluting industry.

Water from the Loosahatchie River and

aquifer sources, access to Tennessee Valley Authority

power lines, a natural-gas pipeline, and cheap land make

the area a prime target for industries, but none of the

residents wants them, Sleskes says. Three thousand

people more than the population of Arlington

have signed a petition opposing the power plant, a

testament, activists say, to the countywide appeal this

issue has raised.

“Pollution doesn’t stop at the county line,”

says Fleskes, “so this should be an issue for everyone

in this area.”

Just five miles away from the proposed Enron plant

site, Memphis Light, Gas and Water is planning another

gas-fired power plant. And Shelby County is not alone in the push

to build new power plants. Five were planned for nearby

Haywood County until the state ordered a moratorium on new

plants until the impact could be studied. (The Enron plant

received its go-ahead before the moratorium was issued.)

The key issue that brought about the moratorium was

the plants’ effect on the water supply, says Vaughn Cassidy,

environmental coordinator for the Tennessee Department of

Environment and Conservation. Though merchant plants

typically only run during peak periods of energy consumption,

generally in the hottest summer months, they can use up to 10

million gallons of water per day, Cassidy says.

“Any [project] disturbing five acres or more has to have

a plan for storm-water runoff [how rainwater is

discharged into streams], but the only groundwater regulation is

to see if the wells are dug right,” Cassidy says. “At

present, there are no limits on how much water you can draw.”

The proposed plants need huge amounts of water

for cooling, although they would burn natural gas, a

cleaner fuel than the coal burned at the TVA’s Allen plant.

Allen produces 19,000 tons of both sulfur dioxide and

carbon monoxide per year, while the new Enron plant

(according to the company’s air-quality permit) would

produce only 45.6 tons of sulfur dioxide and 248 tons of

carbon monoxide.

Will Callaway, executive director of the

Tennessee Environmental Council, says the federal

Environmental Protection Agency will soon demand that local governments adopt

a tougher standard for ozone. Adding new sources of pollution is a step

in the wrong direction, he says. County health officials counter that the

new plant would be allowed even under the new standards.

But opponents of the plant point out that Shelby County is

already ranked in the top 20 nationwide for polluted air. They claim local air

is actually even worse because Shelby County has only two

air-quality monitoring stations, compared to over a dozen in Nashville.

The Citizens for Responsible Development are committed and

organized. They are fighting not just a power plant but for their rural way

of life. They also know they are fighting a giant company with experience in

finding ways to get their plants built despite local opposition. Enron hasn’t

yet attempted to change the zoning, but the residents know it’s coming.

Frustrated by the fact that she couldn’t sign the “no new

power plants” petition, Fleskes’ 14-year-old daughter started her own petition

for children in the area. It doesn’t count, at least not officially, but she

wanted the county commission to know that kids also care about a clean

environment.

“The power’s not for us, only the pollution,” Fleskes says. “How

can this be a good deal?”

Air-quality reports have become a regular feature of local television news: warnings from the Shelby County Health Department to the young, sick, and elderly that our air simply isn’t safe to breathe.

The threat is primarily from ozone, a pollutant exacerbated by the heat and humidity so common during Memphis summers. About one-third of the pollution problem comes from the region’s power plants, which have been harshly criticized by environmental groups for not doing enough to reduce emissions.

Stricter pollution guidelines were established in 1997, but power-industry lawsuits and the Environmental Protection Agency’s foot-dragging have delayed enforcement of the standards. The delay will push 59 Southeastern cities — with 23 million residents — into noncompliance, says a representative from the Southern Alliance for Clean Energy (SACE), an East Tennessee-based environmental group that has filed an intent to sue the EPA.

“The eight-hour ozone standard [that was established] to protect human health in 1997 puts many more areas in non-attainment,” says SACE spokesperson Ulla Reeves. “The power industry has been fighting it, but recently, the courts shot down their appeals. Now, we are trying to hold the EPA’s feet to the fire to enforce the laws that protect public health and the environment.”

Another major air-pollution problem, Reeves says, is the Tennessee Valley Authority’s reliance on outdated, dirty coal-fired power plants. While 56 percent of TVA’s power comes from coal-burning power plants, those plants produce 93 percent of TVA’s nitorgen-dioxide emissions, the pollutant that reacts with sunlight to form ozone.

And sulfer dioxide, the tiny particulate matter that might be more harmful than previously believed, is emitted at twice the levels from coal-burning plants as from new plants.

These old power plants are allowed to slide by the new emissions standards due to a “grandfather clause” that gave power companies the right to operate older plants without installing new technology because they were soon to be retired. Reeves says power companies have invested tens of millions of dollars in these old plants under the guise of routine maintenance without updating their pollution-controls equipment. A lawsuit has been filed, but the case remains in litigation.

“Pollution knows no boundaries. That’s why we need a national cleanup,” Reeves says. “There are hundreds of grandfathered power plants that should have been cleaned up a long time ago. Industry made the upgrades but didn’t install the new technology, resulting in serious pollution problems.”

TVA is installing scrubbers at more than half of its coal-burning plants, including Memphis’ Allen Steam Plant, but this technology will only be used during peak pollution times, Reeves says. SACE recommends shutting down coal-fired power plants and looking for renewable energy options like solar, wind, and geothermal power. TVA currently derives only 1 percent of its power from renewable sources.

Diane Arnst, technical manager for the pollution-control section of the Shelby County Health Department, says Memphis and Shelby County are in compliance with current ozone standards and the standards SACE is suing to have imposed.

There haven’t been any days of dangerous levels of ozone yet this year, Arnst says, but she adds that it’s important to warn the public and commends local television stations for their cooperation. Elevated levels of ozone can cause irritated lungs in asthmatics, young people, and the elderly; higher levels can affect everyone. During high-ozone days, the Health Department recommends that pollution-sensitive people stay indoors with the air conditioning running, and that everyone avoid exercising outside between the peak ozone hours of 4 and 7 p.m.

Sulfer dioxide, tiny particles of soot that bypass the lungs’ natural defenses, might soon be monitored as closely as ozone, Arnst says, adding that preliminary research shows these particles could trigger heart attacks.

Arnst says the recent improvement in Memphis’ air-quality standards is due to a “significant” reduction of emissions from the Allen plant. Two new natural-gas power plants near Lakeland and Arlington are being constructed. Arnst says natural gas is cleaner-burning and provides more power with less environmental impact.

Earlier this month, the Bush administration finally caught up with the rest of the world and issued a report stating that global warming is caused in part by burning fossil fuels. The report detailed how the environment of the United States will be substantially changed in the next few decades — disruption of snow-fed water supplies, more stifling heat waves, and the permanent disappearance of Rocky Mountain meadows and coastal marshes. However, the administration isn’t proposing any major shift in its policy on reducing greenhouse gases.

A report issued last month by several environmental groups, including SACE and the United States Public Interest Research Group, determined that over 860,000 Tennessee children live near coal-fired power plants. These children are exposed to pollutants that cause many health problems, from asthma attacks to neonatal death and slowed neurological development. The authors of the report urge legislation to protect our children from air pollution.

“[The report] shows that our children’s health is at stake if we fail to clean up these plants, especially since we have the technology to do it,” says Dr. L. Bruce Hill, senior scientist at the Clean Air Task Force and author of the report. “With a plan moving through Congress for a cleaner energy future, now is the time for parents to better understand the risks of air pollution on their children — and the ultimate cost of delayed action.”

If a child is a seedling, the community is the garden. And in Orange Mound, Alcene Arnette says a toxic environment and unnecessary transplanting have made it difficult to raise her neighborhood children to become healthy, productive adults.

Times have changed since Arnette, 69, grew up and raised her children here. Back then, Orange Mound was a strong African-American community, where 80 percent of residents owned their own homes and looked after their neighborhood. Children were educated with secondhand books at second-tier schools, but dedicated, passionate teachers and a unified community taught hard work, respect, and hope for the future.

But oppressive Jim Crow laws, bussing, drugs, and crime have fractured her community, she says. Rather than become bitter and give up, Arnette’s civic organization, Neighborhood Covenant of Orange Mound, is starting a community garden to teach children about nature, hard work, and planning for the future.

“A seed is like a dream,” Arnette says. “We want to engage the mind, edify the spirit, and educate the intellect. Book-learning is important, but gardening gives children the mindset that they can make something grow.”

Limiting her group to a dozen to ensure individual instruction, Arnette had the children make a long list of flowers, herbs, and vegetables they wanted to grow. But the garden had to be postponed when dangerous levels of lead were found in the proposed sites.

Lead is a serious problem in this country and especially in Memphis, says Elizabeth Bradley of the Shelby County Health Department. While 2 percent of children tested nationally have been lead-poisoned, in Memphis, the number stands at an astounding 10 percent.

Health Department policy demands testing only after a child has been poisoned, but Bradley tested the soil of the Orange Mound garden sites to head off any problems. Green, leafy vegetables soak the lead out of the soil, Bradley says, and anyone consuming them could be poisoned.

“Lead affects cognitive development, and it might mean a child would have a harder time paying attention in school. Lead-poisoned children often display more aggressive behavior and are more likely to be involved in violent crime,” Bradley says.

While lead in the soil is a potential problem, most poisonings happen indoors when toddlers eat dust from peeling lead-based paint. Banned in 1978, lead paint could still be present in houses built from the 1920s to the 1950s. No one knows how lead got in the soil of the garden sites, but Bradley suspects it’s because of lead paint from demolished houses.

Bradley says the lead problem hasn’t received as much attention as in other cities. Lead laws in other cities offer protection from lawsuits to landlords in exchange for taking corrective steps between tenants. Any settlements against the landlords don’t enrich the families but go to cleaning up the site and relocating the affected families.

The Shelby County Health Department has a program to remove lead in homes with children, but unless the paint is peeling and cracking, experts say it’s not a problem. For more information, call (800) 424-LEAD.

Arnette thinks lead could be the reason for low test scores in Orange Mound. Education could be a tool for bringing the community together, but 6th-, 7th-, and 8th-graders are all taught at schools in other neighborhoods. When raising her family, Arnette remembers having children at five different schools and how hard it was to keep track of each one’s progress.

Old Melrose High School should be turned into a middle school, she says, to create more interest and togetherness in the education of the community’s youth. The building is structurally sound, according to experts Arnette has spoken with, and its importance in the educational history of Orange Mound could make it a rallying point in the revitalization of the neighborhood.

Abuse by the police in the 1950s and 1960s was another factor in shattering Arnette’s community. Not only did it foster a sense of hopelessness, as soon as people had the money, they would move to more tolerant parts of the country. Rumors of police brutality and racial profiling circulate through the neighborhood even today, but Orange Mound was the recipient of a Memphis Police Department CO-ACT unit, an experiment in decentralized, community policing.

Last Sunday afternoon in Orange Mound, gunfire took the life of 9-year-old Marrqutte Desean Mason, shattering the high-spiritedness of the block party he was returning home from. Drugs and crime are also problems in the community, but Arnette says it’s better to give people better options rather than focus on the problem.

Efforts are also underway to increase the number of homeowners in the neighborhood. The Orange Mound Development Corporation (OMDC) has completed 22 homes for low-income families and is working to build more houses and refurbish apartments for renters. The OMDC tries to build a strong home-owner stock through financial counseling before purchase and maintenance training after the homes are sold, says Michael Saine, OMDC program director.

“The neighborhood was started in 1884, but in the ’50s and ’60s, people started moving out of state and community pride wasn’t instilled in the renters,” Saine says. “We are trying to increase home ownership to bring pride and an improved quality of life.”

Julie Rogers, coordinator of the Mid-South Peace and Justice Center, applauds the efforts of Orange Mound residents to lift up their community. Gardening not only builds community, she says, but is a great way to teach children about nutrition, the global dynamics of food production, and how everyone is engaged in the cycle of life. The center is planning community gardens throughout the city but now is waiting for the test results on another site in Orange Mound.

Even if the site is poisoned, Rogers says it’s possible to plant sunflowers on the affected site to speed cleanup. Once the sunflowers suck up the lead and are disposed of, the soil can be used for edible gardening. Bio-remediation can be used on many kinds of toxic pollution, Rogers says, and is another example of teaching through gardening.

“I think gardening is a good metaphor for building community,” Rogers says. “First, you’ve got to start with good soil, where we’ve run into problems, but then you’ve got to work at it and nurture it so it can grow. Then you can eat it as food or live it as community.”

The aisles of the local grocery store are full of them — brightly colored chemical cleaners marketed as an easy way to make your bathroom, body, or laundry clean and fresh.

Behind the faux flowery scents are polysyllabic chemicals introduced to America in the 1950s as miracles of science. But 50 years later, the hype has worn thin, and Memphians are beginning to realize some of these chemicals are having adverse effects on our bodies and the environment.

On May 11th, the Shelby County Environmental Improvement Commission (SCEIC) is having its biannual disposal of household chemicals. It’s an opportunity for residents of Shelby County to safely rid themselves of cleaners, pesticides, paint, and other toxic household products.

“You can’t just throw this stuff down the drain,” says Bubba Winkler, who directs the program for the SCEIC. “We have some of the best groundwater in the country and shouldn’t ruin it by disposing of these products improperly. We’ve got to take care of the problem at hand.”

Simply throwing these products into the dumpster means they go to a landfill, where they can eventually seep into the groundwater. Improper disposal of household chemicals is also illegal, Winkler says. The SCEIC collects an astounding 70 to 80 tons at its disposal events, partly because Memphis is the only major city in Tennessee without a dedicated dropoff site for household chemicals. Once collected, Winkler says they are shipped out of state to be incinerated.

Up to 100 pounds of chemical products per household can be dropped off at the Shelby Showplace Arena at 105 South Germantown Road this Saturday from 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.

Accidental poisonings are another reason to reconsider the use of chemical products in the household. According to figures provided by the Southern Poison Center, the only government agency to keep records on home poisonings, almost 2,500 Mid-Southerners were poisoned in 2001 by household chemicals, including cleaners, pesticides, personal-care items, and cosmetics. While two-thirds of these cases didn’t require hospitalization, Dr. Peter Chyka, executive director of the Southern Poison Center, says parents should secure all chemicals to keep them out of the reach of children.

“If a child comes crying to you with a bad taste in his mouth or tell-tale signs like cleaner on his shirt, the best thing to do is give us a call,” Chyka says. “Kids get into these products because they look like other things. For example, the amber liquids look like apple juice, and mothballs look like candy.”

While 68 percent of home poisonings are from medications, almost 14 percent are caused by household chemicals. Chyka says the most dangerous are tile and mildew removers, insecticides, and cleaners that remove mineral deposits. Part of the University of Tennessee Center for the Health Sciences at Memphis, the Southern Poison Center can be reached locally at 528-6028 or nationally at 1-800-222-1222.

For more information about composting, recycling, and the dangers of household chemicals, consumers can get information from the SCEIC by calling 387-5707 or going to their Web site, www.co.shelby.tn.us/county_gov/boards_commissions/sceic. Tips for alternatives to household chemicals include using red-pepper powder to control ants and garden pests and simmering herbs and water on the stove to replace chemical air-fresheners.

Chemicals are found throughout our environment, but only 600 of the 75,000 on the market today are regulated, according to statistics from the United States Public Issues Research Group. Last year’s Centers for Disease Control study found chemicals in the bodies of most of the 5,000 Americans studied and mercury and pesticides in all of them.

Awareness of the damage caused by chemicals has led to the marketing of more eco-friendly products. Health-food stores like Wild Oats and the Midtown Food Co-op carry cleaners, laundry detergents, soaps, and personal-care products made with natural ingredients. Most commercial soaps contain aluminum, says Midtown Food Co-op manager Tammy Jo O’Neal, which has been linked to Parkinson’s disease.

O’Neal says chemicals in most store-bought cleaners are harmful to animals and the microorganisms living in the rivers that help filter our water. She explains why she has given up chemical cleaners and personal-care products and started using more natural items.

“When you use [a chemical cleaner], it’s absorbed into your skin, and you breathe it,” O’Neal says. “Not only are you killing animals and the ecosystem, you are killing yourself.”

A box of household chemicals sits in my kitchen awaiting disposal, including “rain clean” and “fresh wildflower” scented bleach, lemon cleaners, and detergents with an ingredients list straight from a chemistry laboratory. They smell good, and government regulators say these products are safe when used properly. But when weighing potential for harm against more natural options, the decision isn’t hard to make.

From a blanket outside the gates of the Raoul Wallenberg Shell in Overton Park, Christina Campbell watches the spectacle that was Memphis’ Earth Day celebration last weekend.

Environmental and social activists, midwives, neo-hippies, Buddhists, pagans, artists, and craftsmen gathered among families, food, Frisbees, and music in a two-day celebration of the planet and grassroots efforts to prevent its destruction by neglect and greed.

Campbell attends every year to spend time with her family, enjoy the weather, and listen to some of Memphis’ best bands. Looking out over a park full of people, she wonders why this type of gathering doesn’t happen every weekend.

“This could be the best thing that has happened to Memphis,” Campbell says, “if we all came and hung out with our dogs and kids and had a good time.”

The reason every weekend can’t be Earth Day is simple, organizers say. Just as with the environmental movement, where everyone enjoys the benefits of clean air and water, only a small group of people are willing to put in the time and effort to make it happen.

Conceived in the 1970s, Earth Day celebrations were staged across the country as Americans began to realize the harmful effects of industrial pollution. Federal clean-air and water laws resulted — this country’s best example of how hard-working, organized citizens can demand legislation, according to festival organizer Scott Banbury.

“People don’t realize how bad it was,” Banbury says. “You could wake up and find a layer of soot on your car from coal-burning power plants. Fish couldn’t survive in the rivers. We’ve come a long way, but loopholes and grandfathering clauses keep us out of full [regulatory] compliance.”

Under a tree at the back of the shell grounds, Melissa Stallings gives out information about her career as a “birthing” assistant and on the presence of dangerous chemicals in everything from cleaning products to fruits. She’s one of many people who set up a booth to inform the public about their chosen battle in the war to save the planet.

Advocating natural births isn’t going to make much money for Stallings or hospitals, but she believes the traditional practice of midwifery is healthier than the technology used in the majority of American births.

“If you can change the world one baby at a time and make it more healthy and connected to its mother, it will in turn be more connected to its planet and community and be more likely to give something back,” Stallings says.

Between the music, ranging from Native-American chanting to pseudo-German robotic techno, was a demonstration of a Chinese exercise system called falun dafa. Similar to the gentle, flowing movements of tai chi, falun dafa is a self-improvement program that in seven years has, according to practitioner Annie Wu, attracted 100 million Chinese followers.

“When I was younger I was weak, got sick easily, and always had constipation, stomach ache,” says Wu. “But when I started the practice, it was gone like a miracle.”

Wu says that the new-found health benefits have saved the Chinese government on medical expenses but that 400 people have been tortured to death and many others oppressed by the Chinese government. She blames the crackdown on the government’s fear that healthy people won’t be as easily controlled by the state.

Among the others present at Earth Day were a reproductive clinic, the Midtown Food Cooperative, and craftspeople selling handmade furniture, soaps, salves, and candles. The most ironic coupling was the pagan sword salesman set up next to the Mid-South Peace and Justice Center.

Even the shell itself is run according to grassroots principles these days. John Larkin has put on shows at the shell since 1985, largely from donations from events such as Earth Day. The 66-year-old shell won’t reach its potential, he says, until the city gives its nonprofit group a management contract so they can get capital-improvement loans for the historic structure. Other nonprofits have contracts with the city, Larkin says. He contends the shell could be one of Memphis’ greatest attractions if the city would give his group the authority to get loans and make improvements.

“We put out sound 40 times a year for 40,000 people on a budget of less than $15,000,” Larkin says. “What did Mud Island [amphitheater] do last year and how much money did the city spend on that?”

While organizer Banbury is proud of the work done to fight toxic pollution in Memphis neighborhoods, he says the environmental movement hasn’t caught on here like it has around the country. He suspects Memphians aren’t involved because they think their drinking water is safe and don’t realize the value of resources like the Wolf River and nearby forests.

Audubon Society and Sierra Club memberships are growing, he says, but there are only two paid environmentalists and a handful of committed volunteers working in the city.

A candidate for county commission, Banbury is a custom woodworker and active environmentalist. He says he’d like to see Earth Day happen every weekend, but there would have to be many more volunteers to help carry the work load.

I volunteered to help with Earth Day again this year and was assigned garbage duty. A nearby trashcan filled quickly, and I had trouble extracting the bag.

Several people flung garbage in my direction and kept walking, while another told me not to worry about it. As I struggled, a fellow from a local Vietnamese Buddhist temple came over to help. Though we didn’t speak the same language, we shared a common goal and took out the trash together.

High above the shadows of Overton Park’s Old Forest, the wind whispers in the centuries-old hardwood canopy. This parcel of nature, a world away from the city’s bright lights and concrete, has been recently invaded by two-legged predators.

A little more than two weeks ago, two men stabbed each other to death — one a would-be thief, the other defending himself, it appears — on the forest trails south of Rainbow Lake. As police investigated the crime scene, park-goers gathered to share their shock and horror — and theories about the incident. One woman simply wondered when they would clear out so she could walk her dog.

This wasn’t the first violent incident this year in Memphis’ central park, but its dramatic nature attracted television news trucks and the fickle spotlight of local media coverage.

West Precinct police statistics report five robberies in the park since January — a veritable crime wave compared to just one robbery for all of 2001.

The incident begs the questions: Why did two people have to die to bring these robberies to the public’s attention? And what can be done to protect people in Overton Park?

Don Richardson, chair of the local chapter of the Sierra Club, says Overton Park has long been neglected by city services. He points to an abandoned picnic pavilion renovation and an inconsistent police presence, which he believes has led to the rash of robberies and the park’s use for prostitution and illicit rendezvous.

Acknowledging the difficulty of patrolling the park from a police car, Park Friends, a park advocacy group, even helped the city get a grant for 24 police bicycles and uniforms, Richardson says. The bikes, or even horses, could be used to patrol the park, but he says he hasn’t seen either very often in Overton Park.

Even though the Memphis Park Commission employs park rangers, Richardson and other environmentalists have felt it necessary to look after the park themselves. A self-guided walking tour of the Old Forest was spearheaded by Richardson and other private citizens, and they have also taken it upon themselves to evict squatters who have set up camps in isolated parts of the forest.

Given the recent robberies, squatters, and those who use the woods for sexual activity, the Old Forest doesn’t seem like such a friendly place these days. But Richardson says his group refuses to surrender such a unique natural resource to negative influences.

“None of this could happen if we had more people in there,” says Richardson, who often patrols the park with a six-foot walking stick that can also be used for self-defense. “This breed [muggers] needs isolation to feel welcomed.”

Richardson says he doesn’t want people to be frightened away from the park, but they should be careful. The image of neglect could be erased, he says, by resuming regular bike patrols, finishing the picnic pavilion, installing lights where the majority of the prostitution takes place, and closing the park after dark.

Calling the West Precinct to get an update on the investigation into the robberies and deaths, this reporter was bounced from officer to officer before finally being told that all media inquiries must go through the public-relations department.

After leaving several unreturned messages for Officer Latonya Able, I finally caught her at her desk. I asked if there was a description of the attackers or if they thought any of the robberies were related. Uncooperative and almost hostile, Able refused to offer any details on the investigations, saying only that patrols would be used to “assure the citizens that everything’s okay in the park.”

After three minutes or so, Able said she had to go and that I should call tomorrow. The next day, she wasn’t available.

Richardson says three of the five robberies happened on the bridge south of Rainbow Lake and that the stabbings took place in the woods about 100 yards from the same location — information withheld by the police that could prevent someone else from becoming a future victim.

Cary Holladay, who handles public relations for Park Services, says the picnic pavilion renovation was abandoned after the contractor went out of business. A new contractor has been found, she says, and the project will start up again this month.

The police provide security for the city’s parks, Holladay says, adding that park rangers are not used for security but rather are placed at the city’s largest parks during the summer to provide “customer service and answer questions.”

Spring has come to the Old Forest. Trees are sprouting new leaves, and a colorful variety of shoots and wildflowers are poking their way through the carpet of dead foliage.

The warm weather lures joggers and dog-walkers back into the park after the winter chill. A new season is here, bringing hope for a change in the weather — and in the attitude of those charged with protecting the public.