Florida Striving to Dispose of Andrew’s Trash

From the turnpike, they are easy to see--dozens and dozens of dump trucks, each overflowing with tree limbs, corrugated metal, roof shingles, plywood. They snake a lengthy and tedious path to the local dump, where a huge fire is raging in violation of this state’s strict environmental regulations.

But in this case, the controlled blaze has been authorized--there is no other way, officials say, to get rid of the hundreds of thousands of tons of debris that Hurricane Andrew left in its disastrous wake.

Debris removal is fast becoming one of the most vexing problems faced by Florida authorities in the hurricane cleanup effort, as it was for South Carolina in the aftermath of Hurricane Hugo in 1989. Andrew, however, far outpaced Hugo in destruction, and Florida authorities say it will undoubtedly be years before all the wreckage is cleared.

The scope of the work is enormous--more than 9,500 military and civilian dump trucks have been working for days and have barely made a dent. Also, the removal effort--and particularly the state’s decision to permit the controlled burns--is creating a host of pressing environmental concerns.

Will the fires cause health problems for people with respiratory ailments? Will they blow dangerous particulates into nearby Everglades National Park? Will hazardous waste be scooped up with the rest of the debris and then disposed of improperly?

Will ash from the burn sites seep into the highly porous limestone that lies underneath South Florida, contaminating the aquifer that supplies the region’s fragile drinking water system? Will the state’s already crowded landfills overflow with material that cannot be burned?

“We see ourselves at war now, at war with our own rubble,” said Joe Podgor, executive director of the environmentalist group Friends of the Everglades. “To deliberately set dump fires threatens the aquifer and the Everglades with toxic contamination that can last for decades, if not longer.”

While Podgor’s group is calling for the debris to be stored at landfills and then separated for safe disposal later, state and local authorities defend their decision to allow the burns.

They say they are taking pains to avoid environmental pitfalls by posting inspectors at most of the 32 approved burn sites and requiring the use of special incinerators that increase the amount of air in the fire, reducing particulates by making combustion more complete. In addition, officials say the ash from the burns will be disposed of in plastic-lined landfills to ensure that it does not seep into the ground.

“We’ve got more garbage than anyone could ever imagine, so what’s the most environmentally and economically sound way to deal with it?” asks Carol Browner, who, as secretary of the Florida Department of Environmental Regulation, reluctantly signed the order authorizing the controlled burns. “There’s no good solution, so you end up trying to come up with the least harmful solution.”

Authorities say Hurricane Hugo, which caused $7 billion in damage compared to an estimated $20 billion for Andrew, produced enough wreckage to fill 18 years of landfill space. Thus, even if Andrew’s debris were put into landfills rather than burned, it would create another problem: what to do with the state’s trash over the next few decades.

Doug Yoder, assistant director of the Dade County Department of Environmental Resources Management, said it is important that the hurricane’s wreckage be removed as quickly as possible; to leave it lying in the road could create a fire hazard or pose a public health threat.

He said that although the county hopes potentially toxic materials--such as household solvents, treated woods and wreckage from commercial manufacturing firms--will be weeded out before the debris is burned, “from a practical standpoint, it is going to be very difficult to control.”

The amount of wreckage left by Andrew is almost impossible to fathom. Already, soldiers and civilians have cleared more than 120,000 cubic yards--enough to line a road 68 miles long if it were laid end to end. Yet their work is barely noticeable.

One military spokesman, asked how much debris must be removed, simply shrugged his shoulders and replied: “Gobs.”

How long will it take? “I don’t think anyone who has been honest can say,” said Browner.

The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which is supervising the debris removal, has hired six private contractors at $15 million apiece to help with the work. That is in addition to the efforts of 2,500 soldiers brought in by the corps.

Aside from the environmental concerns, other problems are already cropping up, including illegal dumping. Lt. Col. Lane Toomey, spokesman for the corps’ 20th Engineer Brigade, said private commercial firms have begun dumping in unauthorized areas, and authorities are working to stop it.

In addition, the dump trucks are so overloaded that many are dropping debris in the middle of the road as they carry it to the burn sites. It is not uncommon to see huge chunks of metal and tree limbs along local streets here, with unsuspecting drivers swerving suddenly to avoid them.

The clearing work itself is extremely time-consuming. On Saturday morning it took a 24-man crew four hours just to clear the road in front of three houses in hard-hit Leisure City, north of Homestead.

With beads of perspiration trickling down their temples from underneath their white hard hats, the young soldiers hacked away at tree limbs with chain saws, maneuvered bucket loaders back and forth, filling five 5-ton dump trucks between the hours of 7:30 and 11:30 a.m.

What had they found? “Wood, trash, dead animals, car parts, house parts, broken glass, swimming pool shreds,” said Specialist Ronald Broadhead, a bucket loader operator. “A little bit of everything.”