Monday, Jan. 18, 1988

Nightmare on The Monongahela

By MICHAEL D. LEMONICK

The loading operation should have been routine: an enormous storage tank at Ashland Oil's Floreffe, Pa., facility was slowly filling with No. 2 diesel fuel, and everything seemed to be going according to plan. True, the 40-year- old container was being filled for the first time since having been cut up, moved from Cleveland and reconstructed on the site near the Monongahela River. True, the company did not have the required permit from Allegheny County. And true, Ashland Oil had forgone the standard safety practice of testing the tank with a full load of water. But the vessel had passed less stringent tests, and so the loading went forward.

Then, as the 48-ft.-high structure was nearly filled to its capacity of 4 million gal., something went wrong. The tank suddenly burst like a balloon, loosing its contents in a matter of seconds. Some 3.8 million gal. of the oil erupted in a 35-ft.-high tidal wave that quickly overflowed the earthen dike meant to contain such spills. In the 7 degrees cold, 860,000 gal. inundated nearby Route 837. The oil then poured through storm sewers into the Monongahela, a once polluted river that over the past ten years has been painstakingly restored to health, and headed for Pittsburgh, 23 miles downstream.

Thus began one of the nation's worst inland oil spills ever. Within 24 hours, 23,000 people in the Pittsburgh area found themselves without tap water. An additional 750,000 were forced to ration their drinking water, 1,200 families were temporarily evacuated, dozens of factories had to shut down, schools were closed and commercial traffic on the river was halted. The oil entered the Ohio River at Pittsburgh's Golden Triangle, and by week's end the scene had been replayed downriver as far as Steubenville, Ohio, where an ice jam slowed the oil's progress. Wheeling, W. Va., was bracing for the onslaught, and contamination was feared along the Ohio all the way to the Mississippi. The Pennsylvania Fish Commission reported numerous dead fish; ducks and geese, caught in the oil, had to be rescued and washed. Said Ashland Oil Chairman John Hall, who quickly declared his company would comply with federal law by footing the entire cleanup bill: "I expect it will be a multimillion-dollar problem."

While Pittsburgh draws its potable water from the unaffected Allegheny River, some nearby cities and towns on the Monongahela were forced to shut off their river intakes completely. The authorities tried to cope by tapping into the fire hydrants of unpolluted water systems and reopening old wells. Governor Robert Casey ordered out the National Guard to help, and decreed mandatory water conservation with a $200 fine for violators. Most people took the inconvenience good-naturedly. In North Fayette, 17 miles south of Pittsburgh, residents switched to paper plates, postponed the laundry and washed at the homes of friends whose water supply was unaffected. Funeral Director Tom Somma used his hearse to deliver bottled water to shut-ins. The local Iron City brewery brought out "party trucks" -- in effect, giant beer kegs on wheels -- filled with water.

The West Pennsylvania Water Co., which serves 500,000 people, was able to reopen its river intake at Becks Run by midweek, though it had to filter the diluted oil through ten times the usual amount of activated carbon. But other water systems still reported critical shortages. Warned Allegheny County Commissioner Tom Foerster: "We're still a long way from being out of this situation. If people go back to using water as they usually do, the system will break down."

The cleanup might have been easier on a lake or in the ocean. In that event, the diesel fuel would have stayed on the surface, where it could have been trapped with floating rubber booms and sucked up with vacuum hoses. But in this case, by the time emergency cleanup crews arrived, the Monongahela's turbulent waters had begun to break up the oil slick and disperse it through the river's depth. The water and oil were further mixed as they tumbled over + locks and dams on the Monongahela and Ohio.

Five booms were deployed to trap what oil remained on the surface, but the fast-moving river current simply forced the oil under and past them. In addition, the Monongahela's steep banks made much of the river inaccessible. The result: cleanup crews have recovered only 100,000 gal. of fuel -- and that is all they are likely to get. Communities downstream still face 760,000 gal. snaking their way along. By the end of next week the contamination should reach Cincinnati. But as it moves, the oil also becomes diluted; when it hits the Mississippi, perhaps by early March, it could be completely dispersed.

If the spill had happened during the warm months of summer, the highly toxic oil would have been devastating to the rivers' ecosystems. But in winter, fish are inactive, many birds have migrated south, and most plants are dormant. "The algae that fish feed on will be wiped out in the short term," says Tom Purcell of the Environmental Protection Agency, "but they will easily be replenished from upstream." Then, too, escaped oil will eventually be broken down by naturally occurring bacteria, although the EPA's Ray Germann admits, "No one can tell how long it will take."

Attention is now focusing on what caused the spill. There has been speculation that the steel of the Ashland tank may have become brittle in the bitter cold. Other possible causes: flaws in the tank's foundation, which had to support 30 million lbs., or in an underground water pipe. Ashland has also been criticized for reusing the steel. Hall admits that using old metal was one of "a few areas of questionable judgment" at issue. While not admitting liability, Hall said, "I wish our people had pursued the application more diligently."

By EPA standards, says Tim Fields, director of the agency's emergency- response division, "the company is doing everything we would do" to clean up the mess. Says Purcell: "As long as they report it and make every effort to clean it up, they're safe." Although the required dike around the tank did not work, it appears to have been of a size approved by the EPA to contain accidental overflows.

As water systems come back on-line, lawsuits are beginning to fly. Six were filed last week charging Ashland with negligence that caused major economic losses and suffering to local industry and citizens. Considering the number of people and companies affected, Ashland and riverside communities are sure to % be sorting out the blame for the Floreffe spill long after the effects of the oil have disappeared.

With reporting by Dan Donovan/Pittsburgh