Spray Zone Veterans See Medfly War as a Never-Ending Battle

Barbara Lamb of Pasadena has the malathion refugee routine down cold.

First, she secures the hot tub. Then she seals the oven vents, covers every square inch of the back lawn with plastic, catches her cats, locks them inside, packs her suitcase, grabs a sleeping bag and gets out of town as fast as she can. She has gone through the drill eight times in the last six months.

Tonight, under the new state battle plan to eliminate the Mediterranean fruit fly, Lamb’s neighborhood will be sprayed for the last time with malathion.

Like others in the spray zones, however, she is not rushing to unpack her bag. “It stays put,” she said, preparing to leave for yet another visit with her daughter in Mendocino. “Of course it’s not over.”

The vast majority of neighborhoods that have endured the regular flights of state helicopters bearing their loads of malathion are scheduled to be phased out of the spray program this month. But after 10 months of the Medfly war, 35,770 gallons of malathion, 1.46 billion sterile flies and a projected total of $36 million in taxpayers’ money, few people expect a quick victory--not even state officials.

The eradication program is entering the critical summer months, which offer ideal breeding conditions for the Medfly. Agriculture officials also have adopted a new, more aggressive eradication strategy that requires treatment of an infestation after only a single Medfly is found.

Agriculture officials say their ability to fight the Medfly with the release of millions of sterile flies is now pushed to the limit. And opponents who have waged a largely ineffective war against the spraying campaign in local communities now say they are preparing to launch a more coordinated attack on the state and federal levels.

On Tuesday, the city of San Bernardino vowed to go to court to halt malathion sprayings there, a tactic that has failed when attempted by Los Angeles-area communities in recent months.

Under the state’s new battle plan, the spray zone will shrink from its high of more than 470 square miles to 48 square miles by the end of the month--if no more flies are found.

To accomplish the task, agriculture officials have mustered every available sterile Medfly they can find--about 300 million a week. Flown in sealed plastic bags from breeding facilities in Hawaii, the insects are scattered through the infested areas from airplanes and cars. The flies, which are sterilized by exposure to radiation, mate with wild Medflies, breeding the pest out of existence.

Officials say the technique is simple, effective and virtually unnoticeable by the public. Unfortunately, they only have enough sterile flies and manpower to replace aerial spraying in about 170 square miles. Even that supply is uncertain because of production problems at the breeding facilities in Hawaii.

Because of the shortage, newly infested areas will face repeated malathion sprayings. Two areas--Woodcrest in Riverside County, and the city of San Bernardino--already have to be sprayed past May.

Most of the other zones will have to be sprayed up to three more times this month. If no more flies are found in those areas, they will drop out of the program.

That prospect might have won widespread public favor if it had come early in the infestation. But like grizzled veterans of a long war, residents now just shrug.

“My own attitude is that it is silly to say this is it,” said South Pasadena resident Larry Wing, whose home was sprayed Tuesday night as part of a malathion drop over 47 square miles of Eagle Rock, South Pasadena, Highland Park, Mt. Washington and Monterey Park.

“Crime and corruption and the Medfly will always reoccur. Any time they find another Medfly they’ll probably spray again. There’s no way out.”

S.C. Tong, a resident of Highland Park, said that after so many months of spraying, the battle seems futile.

“The fly is so strong. If I were a government official I would stop it (the spraying) and use the money for some good cause. It’s just no use,” said Tong, suggesting that the money be donated to a more deserving cause, such as the American Red Cross.

The scheduled end to spraying also has done little to dampen the rowdy opposition movement against malathion.

Michael Bell, the coordinator of the environment group Safe Alternatives to Fruit Fly Eradication, said that regardless of whether spraying is ended this month, it is almost certain that the process will begin again, if not this year, maybe next year or the year after that.

Each time the helicopters go up, they anger a few more people, he said.

Bell said he already has heard of one scheme to launch dozens of balloons with tethers tying them to the ground to keep the helicopters from flying overhead.

“People are ready to take potshots at helicopters,” he said. “We’re talking irate people.”

Malathion opponents have been largely unsuccessful in stopping spraying with demonstrations, lawsuits and city ordinances. Despite their failures, Bell said the state’s continuing inability to stop the Medfly and its failure to meet the self-imposed May 9 deadline to end the spraying has galvanized the movement.

He said a coalition has just been formed of all the opposition groups that sprang up earlier this year.

“We’re not wasting our time with city attorneys anymore,” Bell said. “We’re going on the federal level.”

The glimmerings of a new opposition movement also are beginning to appear in the city of San Bernardino, one of two areas that will have to be sprayed past May.

Hector Payan, picnicking with his wife Eloise at Perris Hill Park, said: “The people in L.A. hate it, the people here will too.”

“It’s too damn inconvenient,” he said. “You have to cover your car, you got to watch out for the kids . . . the whole thing is stupid.”

His wife added: “We just moved into this area from L.A. and we thought we would get away from the Medfly, and now it has followed us here.”

Residents in the San Bernardino spray zone are beginning to ask the same questions that Angelenos have been firing at state officials since last winter.

Julie Steffani said: “I sympathize with the growers, but I have to wonder to myself is it going to harm my kids. How safe can it be if they tell you to cover your cars, bring your kids inside and bring your animals inside. I mean, how safe is that?”

Not everyone, however, is against spraying. Just ask Dick Mulhall, who owns the Sparkle Car Wash in Pasadena.

“Damn, I believe in spraying,” he said with a laugh as he contemplated the news that Pasadena’s last spray would be tonight.

“That’s too bad,” Mulhall said. “(Wednesday) is senior citizens day for us. We won’t be able to handle the load.”

--Times staff writer Penelope McMillan contributed to this story.