Health Fears Over Sludge Spur Quest For Controls 

EPA Stand Challenged After Suspicious Deaths 

David Snyder and Fredrick Kunkle / Washington Post 6aug01

For five generations, the Letcher family has tolerated the odors of farm life -- hogs, chickens, malfunctioning septic tanks.

But the day the trucks started spreading treated human waste near their home in rural Prince George's County was, Ron Letcher said, the beginning of something else again.

The kids started coming down with inexplicable illnesses. The burning stench sometimes got so bad, they couldn't go outside. Convinced something illegal was afoot, the Letchers got on the telephone.

"Sorry," Letcher remembered a county health department agent telling him. "There's nothing we can do about the way the wind blows."

As development seeps into the once-rural reaches of the Washington area, residents are complaining increasingly about the foul odors and possible health consequences of sewage sludge being dumped on nearby farm fields.

But like thousands across the country, they've received much the same response from county, state and federal agencies: Sludge spreading, if done according to regulations, is perfectly legal and perfectly safe.

Lately, however, its safety is receiving more scrutiny.

Scientists, environmentalists and public-heath advocates are questioning the effects of spreading sludge, a practice that has increased since 1991, when Congress deemed sludge too dangerous to dump in oceans.

The National Academy of Sciences has begun a major review of the sludge policy set by the Environmental Protection Agency, which has promoted the practice to states for more than a decade.

Prodded by residents' complaints and alarmed by recent deaths that opponents blame on the sludge spreading, governments from Amelia and Louisa counties, Va., to New Hampshire and California have banned or strictly regulated the practice.

But the EPA remains largely unconvinced that "biosolids" cause health problems.

"I don't think we've seen anything yet that suggests that we should be alarmed," said Mike Cook, director of EPA's wastewater management program.

Although the EPA and industry officials say a preponderance of studies sides with them, a report last year by the EPA's inspector general office concluded that the agency "cannot assure the public that current land application practices are protective of human health and the environment."

The report also said that the EPA provides "virtually no federal oversight of state biosolids programs."

In response, EPA officials asked the Academy of Sciences to review the rules.

"When a regulatory agency becomes a promoter of something, it makes it difficult for them to be objective," said Ellen Z. Harrison, director of Cornell University's Waste Management Institute. "We're spreading this stuff pretty widely, and it contains not only good old human waste, but whatever else we send down the drain."

Sludge -- the material left after raw sewage cycles through wastewater treatment plants -- must be processed further before spreading to eliminate most trace metals, such as arsenic, lead and mercury, and pathogens, including viruses and bacteria. Farmers use it because it is less expensive than commercial fertilizer.

About 3 million dry tons of sludge were spread across the United States last year, according to the EPA. That figure is expected to rise to 4 million tons -- or nearly 48 percent of the total amount of sludge produced -- by 2010.

Virginia leads the region in the amount of sludge spread on farm fields each year. Since 1994, the area used for field application has increased from 200,000 acres to 300,000 acres, with about 767,000 wet tons applied across the state last year alone. In Maryland, 350,000 tons of sludge were spread as fertilizer last year. But the amount has generally decreased in recent years because more is being transported out of state.

Because of residents' complaints, urban water treatment plants are being forced to ship waste to farms farther away, and the cost -- ultimately passed on to the consumer -- rises. Even now, the Virginia Department of Health is developing a fee schedule for haulers to cover the costs of additional testing required by a growing number of localities.

The EPA's 1993 regulations divide sludge into two categories: Class A, treated to remove all detectable contaminants, and Class B, which is partially treated and makes up the bulk of sludge for spreading.

Federal, state and sometimes local regulations restrict where, when and how Class B sludge can be spread. Fields must be quarantined from humans and animals for a month or more.

But within two years after the EPA turned to field application for sludge disposal, two deaths were blamed on the practice.

Shayne Conner, 26, of Greenland, N.H., died in November 1995, weeks after several hundred tons of sludge were spread on a field near his home. His mother, Joanne Marshall, filed a wrongful-death suit against the hauler, claiming that the sludge contributed to the breathing problems that led to her son's death.

Public outcry resulting from Conner's death persuaded 44 municipalities in that state to ban or limit the spreading of sludge.

In 1994, Tony Behun, 11, of Osceola Mills, Pa., rode a dirt bike through a field covered with sludge. He developed a fever and lesions on his arm, fell into a coma and was dead one week later.

State officials in both states say they have not found conclusive links between sludge fertilizer and the deaths. But microbiologist David Lewis believes that sludge probably caused Tony's death.

Lewis, who works for the EPA but stresses that he studied Tony's death as a private scientist and not an EPA employee, began speaking out against EPA's sludge policy in 1996 with an opinion piece in the British journal Nature.

In an interview, Lewis described the policy as "the worst rules that EPA had ever promulgated."

"The science is so bad, it clearly puts public health and safety at risk," Lewis said.

Others disagree. Haulers are relying on EPA regulations based on 20 years of research and more than 3,000 scientific studies, said Sharon Hogan, a spokeswoman for Synagro Mid-Atlantic Inc., a Baltimore company that hauls sludge for 650 customers, including water plants in Alexandria, the District of Columbia and Anne Arundel and Arlington counties.

"The consensus of the scientific community is that the standards established by a complex risk assessment are sound and safe," Hogan said.

For John H. Boldridge, a farmer in Culpeper County, using sludge over the last few years has been of enormous benefit. He has saved about $15,000 by not buying commercial fertilizer for his corn and soybean fields and pastures.

"It's a resource. We must use it," Boldridge said. "I think we have to use some caution. I think we have to use some tests to make sure there's no metal that comes out. [But] they've been doing it over in China and Japan for eons."

Virginia and Maryland environmental officials say there is little concern about ill effects on health and the environment.

"There are literally hundreds of studies showing that it is safe to apply on land," said Martha W. Hynson, head of the Maryland Department of the Environment's sludge utilization section.

But critics say that Virginia, in particular, is straining to monitor the practice.

James Lear, of Louisa County, became a foot soldier committed to fighting the growing use of sludge after he woke up one morning last fall covered head to foot with mysterious boils.

He said his doctor told him that the skin eruptions, which lasted for three months, might be connected to airborne bacteria from the treated sewage used as fertilizer on a nearby pasture.

"Now, you mean to tell me that because some politician in Richmond said I have to have this stuff spread in my front yard, I have to take it?" asked Lear.

Clarence W. Williams, a retired engineer and businessman in Bumpass, Va., joined Lear as an anti-sludge activist after his Louisa County neighbors approached him about signing a petition complaining about the smell. His subsequent research upset him.

"It's enough to scare the hell out of a person," said Williams, who is particularly riled by what he says is lax enforcement by the Virginia Department of Health.

Williams said Louisa County residents have made several complaints about spills and farmers allowing animals onto their fields during the quarantine period, but he knew of no violations issued.

Robert W. Hicks, director of the Virginia Health Department's Office of Environmental Health Services, acknowledged that there are only two full-time biosolid health inspectors for the entire state. But he said that approximately 400 county officials responsible for carrying out state health regulations also have the power to monitor the use of biosolids.

Last year, the department investigated 28 complaints, conducted 12 routine site inspections and issued one violation.

Fears over contamination led three Virginia counties -- Amelia, Goochland and Rappahannock -- to enact sludge bans. But on Jan. 12, the Virginia Supreme Court voided Amelia's ban, saying that such ordinances clash with state laws on the use of biosolids.

To restore some local control, the General Assembly last session passed a measure, effective last month, that allows localities to enact ordinances providing for the testing and monitoring of land application to ensure compliance with applicable laws.

But Synagro Mid-Atlantic filed suit in U.S. District Court in Charlottesville against such ordinances in Louisa and Buckingham counties. A federal judge has granted the hauler's request for a temporary injunction.

Meanwhile, water treatment plants are working to make the stuff less noxious.

The Alexandria Sanitation Authority -- which relies totally on field application to dispose of about 53,000 wet tons of sludge each year -- is installing equipment to pasteurize sludge and eliminate more pathogens as part of the plant's $320 million upgrade.

Alexandria is also installing more digesters -- huge sealed tanks that help the sludge decompose to reduce its odor. "The industry is just beginning to grapple with this issue," said Glenn B. Harvey, deputy engineer-director of the Alexandria Sanitation Authority.

For Ron Letcher, official assurances offer little comfort. Though his family has lived in Brandywine for generations, he said that the stench and fear about the possible health consequences might drive them away.

"There is no way this stuff can be good for you," he said.