Dear Monica,
Sorry to hear that you're so busy; I did summer session once and I
have to admit that I did not find the intense routine much fun,
either...
I went looking for that book last night and could not find it! Since
I am working on a novel based loosely upon my research, I really should
do a little re-research, so I will find at least some newspaper citings
of the toxic cloud over Manhattan.
I did find a couple of decent books that I can recommend: "Toxic
Nation, The Fight to Save Our Communities from Chemical Contamination,"
by Fred Setterberg and Lonny Shavelson (Berkeley Public Library# 363.738
Se78t)--I met Lonny a few years back, before his book was finished; he's
a medical doctor and really knew his material (last I knew he'd gone to
Guatemala to assist, as the experience of writing the book had wiped him
out); "The Toxic Cloud, The Poisoning of America's Air," by Michael
Brown (#363.7 B814t, Mr. Brown wrote "Love Canal," as well, 1978 or so?,
the first real book to address the toxic waste issues; about the time my
piece was supposed to come out in Mother Jones,(1981) he had a piece in
Penthouse, of all places, about groundwater contamination from chemical
wastes that wasn't bad as an overview--he also wrote investigative
reporting pieces on Mafia involvement with the hazardous waste dumping
and had his life threatened (more on that below...); "Not in Our
Backyard," by Marc Mowrey and Tim Redmond (S.F. Bay Guradian writers,
#363.7 M872n), not bad for the activism viewpoint--you might want to
take a look at pp. 302-303, for the "Fate" of my source at the E.P.A.,
Mr Hugh Kaufman, at the "dirty hands" of what I call the Fed. Gov't's
"snitchocracy" (patterned along the lines of the Russian or Chinese
Communist bureaucracies, where those not playing "team ball" have lifes
made suddenly "interesting," as the old Chinese curse goes); Hugh had a
"Fury" (the allusion is to Greek mythology, forgive another digression,
but the metaphor is too apt--rather than having given "human foibles" to
the gods, the real contribution of the Greeks was to note what happens
when humans assume godlike importance, i.e., "hubris," all too often
what a "tyrannos" would pronounce upon a rival as one's "Fate," with the
attendant screaming and shrieking "Furies" in all demented and
hysterical "female" as pathological nightmare form, had an all too human
hand "controlling" (these days the analogy might be like the
snake-oil-huckster "wizard" in "Wizard of Oz" pulling those levers
behind the Toto-exposed curtains...); from p. 302: "All of a sudden,
Kaufman's mail was mysteriously commandeered , opened and destroyed.
His superiors ordered him not to talk to the press..." [July 1982, he
files a complaint with the Labor Dept. alleging harassment and illegal
spying upon him--one report for which he was nearly fired had him "in a
motel room with a woman on company tiem," the woman turned out to be his
wife...; the hired-gun "Fury" behind these matters was Rita Lavelle,
who, the next year, was convicted of perjury regarding her
"disinformation" of Hugh and sentenced to six months)...
(Excuse my not transcribing the aforegoing "shorthand"; sometimes,
as a creative writing tool, the technique really conveys what I'm
feeling--other times, the "abuse" of grammatical rules can be merely
annoying.)
I've attached a file for you, as well, from a recent case in which my
buddy Hugh took on the "corporate giants" again--and won! If you'll
remember my telling you how the mere "threat" of "libel" functions as a
"big chill" deterrent to dissemination of vital information, why, wait
until you read this case: for a television piece in which a swirling
pool of contaminated muck--with the attendant "mud-sucking" gurgles and
oozes--was captioned "the sound of money" regarding a flagrant polluter
was found to be "libellous." Hugh was an expert witness called in on
federal appeal, and, as you'll read, they managed to reverse...One
takes little victories as one can...
Oh yeah, as i ran up an extensive phone bill with Mr. Kaufman while
doing my piece, he became curious as to how I was progressing, and even
told me that I was the only one in the media with whom he dealt that
"really had a clue" (He offered all kinds of good items that nobody was
"running with," as they say, that I attempted; one in particular, which
should have been printed in "The Nation" except for the bizarre
"political correctness" of "can't criticize Carter *our* Democrat," was
how the Resource and Conservation Recovery Act of 1976, of which Mr.
Kaufman,was a major contributor in writing, had been deliberately
"sabotaged"--buried within the 2,000 plus pages of the final bill were
half-a-dozen pathetically easy ways around the much-touted "manifest"
paperwork that was supposed to track a hazardous material "from cradle
to grave"; Mr. Kaufman's pointing the matter out in committee was
patently ignored...(He told me too, that my piece and his appraisal that
it was going to be "mighty good," something "real" finally, was the
beginning of "our" troubles, ala Nixon's "black bag" creeps, if you "dig
what I mean" (reference to Gill Scott Heron's "H2O-Gate Blues," one of
my all-time favorite jazz poems you too may enjoy...)
One last little item (the copy being sent is to my business agent,
Prof. Maxine Hong Kingston, Dept. of English at Cal, who--believe it or
not--actually requests me to write in this mode when I'm able, fast,
spontaneous, one big long bardic swell, so I hope you don't mind, as I
truly do wish to assist you with your work...).
About the Mafia thing: I investigated that angle, too (I had a grant
from the Washington, D.C. based "Fund for Investigative Journalism"),
but, ironically enough, ran "afoul" on that count as well.
To give you my beginning (which I'm using in my novel, "Green
River," with all the attendant mythology of what happens when you befoul
the "wellsprings of inspiration," as the notion of groundwater was known
to my ancient Celtic ancestors--whose warnings against the actual rape
of the "Well Maidens" as metaphor and symbol of the need for reverence
and respect of "Sovereignty," the "Mother Earth" principle, were most
prescient): one day, scanning the local papers for an "item" (I read
about a half-dozen a day, looking for a potential story to freelance
that the small timers would overlook).
A one paragraph item grabbed me. Some farmer had found oil drums
full of industrial waste in a far field where a couple of his cows had
died after drinking the contaminated swamp water. Mention was made of a
decomposed body in one but nothing further--as to identity or cause of
death--ever made print.
So I took up the investigative trail and found another hot lead in a
little town in mid-Pennsylvania, Pittson (near Scranton-Wilkes Barre).
Millions of gallons of hazardously contaminated "sludge" oil had been
dumped down some abandoned coal mine shafts; the matter most likely had
gone unnoticed for several years until heavy spring rains caused
"sluice" tunnels to overrun into the Susquehanna River (my "Green River"
in my novel and, too, the same matter from a screenplay that I tried to
pitch to "Fonda Films" in 1990-1991--according to my attorneys, Patrick
and Terence--the S.F. Dist. Att.--Ms. Fonda had been highly interested
and authorized a check for $100,000 to purchase the option on that
synopsis and the rights to my full-length script, "City of Nights,"
about my night cabdriving in Oakland, yet I never got a penny; the
matter has been ripped off since by Steven Seagal's "Fire Down Below,'
in which the mines are now in Kentucky and the cyanide-laden waste
dumped by helicopter instead of tank-truck).
This river (famed for Three Mile Island, as well) provides drinking
water for many people in New York State, Pennsylvania et al down to the
Chesapeake Bay...
Another intriguing angle was that in Pittson/Kingston resided the
reputed head of the Genovese/Tieri crime family , one "Big Russ"
Bufalino, also known as the "Gentleman Don" for not only the natty way
he dressed (the Manhattan garment district being part of his turf) but
too his impeccable manners and sense of "fair play." My editor at Mother
Jones wanted me to jump all over this angle, but, quite frnakly,
according to my sources, it just didn't pan out. Not only had an
Assistant N.Y.S. Attorney General, John Fine, mentioned to me that
"Bufalino and his family don't seem to be players," but too my
"trucking" industry sources (Big Russ was noted for truck heists of
cargo throughout the Northeast--his people were so good that between the
airports at NYC and the destination millions of dollars of cargo would
be repalced with foam pellet boxes and even with all kind of "security"
personnel the matter would still happen) said it didn't wash (one guy,
an old Teamster in New Jersey, said it was the "wannabe" up-and-comers,
mostly garbage haulers who were small-time "chump change" who somehow
had gotten the connections for "kick backs" to oil company exec's; the
firm would be charged the going market rate for proper disposal and then
these garbagemen would hire immigrant cabdrivers and other "scab"
truckers to haul 6,000 gallons in a tank truck to some field or stream
and "midnight dump" it--for a measly $100 or so, netting the handlers a
profit of several thousand bucks.
Now the other interesting "item" from one "in the know" was the
Hoffa murder. (Big Russ is dead now, so not to worry!). Big Russ
allegedly had Hoffa taken down, the body chopped into pieces for three
55-gallon drums, one sent to each boss in Chicago, Detroit and Buffalo
as "warnings"--not because Hoffa was getting to be too much a "big shot"
but instead precisely because of the toxic waste dumping: Hoffa saw the
burgeoning industry as "the sound of money" for the Teamsters and Big
Russ, in the mode of the "old school" Dons like his predecessor, Vito
Genovese, had forbidden the matter just as Vito had nixed any drug
dealing or prostitution (or even, believe it or not, "domestic
violence") for any "made" members...
So, my magazine piece became "the end of a way of life." In
Pittston, I'd noticed, most of the people had big front porches on which
they sat on hot summer days, the neighbors dropping by to chat, the
doors all left unlocked still. Some of the older ones with whom I'd
talked mentioned about the river and all, how they used to swim in it as
children but not now...
I tied the matter in with how the ruthlessly "ambitious" chump
change garbage collectors, under the "political patronage" of some
"heavies" in New York State--allegedly including then Gov. Cuomo, Felix
Rohayten the "fundraiser" and his partner in "solid waste management,"
Jesse L. Jackson,(?!?) the latter two left unmentioned by myself "in the
name of political correctness"--had gotten the more dimbulb "lunk
enforcer" types that the newer "hotshots" like John Giotti and his
dumbass kid favored to do the "dirty work"...
But the libel problem, like I said, plus this editor's (Joe Klein)
insistence that he "rewrite" the piece to include the Carlos Marcello
family's alleged involvement in Louisiana (about which my sources had
indicated "doubtful," telling me too that Marcello, whatever his
character issues might be, was being "hung out to dry" for the Kennedy
thing and that any reporter worth his salt should be able to figure
something as basic as that out, grumbling about "you sure this rag
you're writing for is respectable?") and waste dumping there--gutting my
"way of life" passing, the most powerful part of the piece--all
prevented the publication--my six months of work, which would have been
worth it as a pitch for a nonfiction book deal, for which I'd made the
necessary and good contacts,(I was editing a man's book, "Showtime at
the Apollo Theatre," about the halycon days of the Blakc Renaissnace in
Harlem, circa 30's and 40's, which my friend, Ted Fox, did indeed get
published, by "Holt, Rinehart and Winston," in 1982) was "sound of
money'ed," so to speak...
hope you enjoy and I'll research further that cite,
tom
(P.S. Cannot find the Texas case in my disk, either; I will refind and
email...)
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