August 2003

Trust gone toxic
Tire-burning issue heats up as state investigates cement plant

by Pamela White

At its core it’s a matter of lost trust. A Lyons cement plant wants permission from Boulder County to burn tires as fuel in its cement kiln. Boulder County, which is set to green light the plant’s plan, claims burning tires in the kiln poses no risk to people or to the environment.

But neighbors of the plant say they trust neither Cemex nor the county government to give them straight answers about burning tires or to do the right thing when it comes to public health and the environment. They say Cemex has demonstrated poor management and an inability to comply with environmental laws thus far without the added challenge of burning tires. And they accuse the county of giving preferential treatment to Cemex, which has donated land to the county, out of a hunger for open-space land.

The allegations mark the latest round in a six-year conflict between the plant–formerly owned by Southdown and Southwestern Portland Cement–and its neighbors. The conflict originally arose over concerns about emissions of cement kiln dust and has grown to include a host of issues–and three separate neighborhood groups.

The neighbors’ concerns are fueled by continued problems with cement kiln dust emissions, which have drawn the attention of the state health department and the state attorney general’s office. Cemex is currently in negotiations with the state over alleged air quality violations regarding its dust emissions.

But residents’ fears have been heightened by the recent discovery of county documents that show the plant, as Southwestern Portland Cement, burned almost 90 million gallons of toxic solvents and waste oils without a permit between 1975 and 1991–and that county and state officials knew of the illegal burning, but failed to take action against the company.

"There is no trust anymore," says Ken Dobbs, who lives across Highway 66 from Cemex with his wife Mary Dobbs. "I have no trust in Cemex and no trust in our county government anymore."

Dust in the wind

Richard Cargill, executive director of the St. Vrain Watchdogs, remembers a time when those living near the cement plant could not open their windows.

"There were days when you couldn’t even see the trees," he says, gesturing toward a line of trees east of Cemex and north of his home on Hygiene Road. "All of this was just white with dust."

Cement kiln dust can contain arsenic, silicon, dioxins and furans–all hazardous to human health–and is considered a form of particulate pollution.

Concerned for their health and that of their neighbors, the Watchdogs, together with the Environmental Justice Project, worked with Southdown, which was eventually bought by Mexican company Cemex, on reducing its toxic dust emissions. Since then, emissions have dropped by 80 percent.

But there are still problems. Neighbors have reported several instances of fugitive dust emissions in 2003. On one instance when Boulder Weekly drove to the plant, the columns of white dust rose higher into the air than the plant’s smokestacks.

"It happens all the time," says Cargill.

The situation is serious enough to have drawn the attention of state air pollution officials, who conducted several surprise inspections at the plant this spring and earlier this summer, each time finding alleged violations.

"We are in negotiations (with Cemex) right now, so unfortunately we are not at liberty to discuss the nature or outcome of these negotiations," says Christopher Dann, spokesman for the Colorado Department of Heath and Environment.

Once negotiations are complete, the information about the inspections will become public, Dann says.

Cemex officials did not respond to Boulder Weekly’s request for an interview by press time.

Cargill, Ken and Mary Dobbs and other community members believe Cemex should not be allowed to burn tires because they haven’t managed to clean up their act with regard to cement kiln dust yet.

"Will Cemex be able to manage tire combustion any better than it can manage fugitive dust?" asks Cargill. "What assurances are there that management of tire combustion will be any better than management of fugitive dust? There could be serious consequences for citizens in at least five surrounding communities if process controls fail."

A recent environment impact statement prepared by a CU environment design class states, "Cemex has a poor environmental track record for compliance with the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Safety issues are amplified due to the possibility of wide-scale negative consequences… Improper incineration and the release of additional emissions could put large populations at risk."

But Cemex officials say they have cleaned up their operation and claim that their burning tires might do the environment some good.

The third largest cement company in the world, Cemex consumes 100,000 tons of coal each year at its Lyons plant. Coal mining and combustion have both come under attack by environmentalists for their negative impact on the environment. While coal mining can ravage the landscape and release toxins into water and soil, burning coal produces sulfur dioxides, which, when combined with moisture, produce nitric and sulfuric acids–the ingredients of acid rain.

Cemex representatives have argued that burning tires–essentially a petroleum product–will reduce destructive coal mining while "recycling" a resource that has already been extracted from the land. With millions of scrap tires around the state, tires constitute an abundant fuel source, they claim. And while coal produces 11,000 to 12,000 BTUs per pound, tires burn hotter at 15,000 BTUs per pound.

Burning tires will also save the company a lot of money. But burning tires carries risks. Tires are toxic, and when they are burned those toxins are released. A 1997 study of tire-burning by the EPA indicates that tires could be safely burned in high-tech incinerators but that results from incinerators could not be applied to burning tires in cement kilns. Results from test burns in cement kilns show that emissions vary from kiln to kiln based on the available technology and on management practices.

In November 2002, the plant conducted a test burn of tires with a host of county and state health officials present, and the county concluded that burning tires poses no serious health hazards.

The county asked the Agency for Toxic Substance and Disease Registry (ATSDR)–an agency of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services–to perform a thorough evaluation of potential health impacts resulting from emissions from tire burning.

ATSDR also concluded that emissions posed "no public health hazard," but noted concern over a test sample that showed contamination from acetones and had been discarded.

"The only concern we have is why an entire run was thrown out because of high acetone values," the ATSDR report states.

But opponents of tire burning point out that, while ATSDR and Boulder County were quick to dismiss any significant public health risk, the test burn did show an increase in the release of many toxic substances, including persistent bioaccumulative toxins (PBTs) like mercury.

According to the EPA, PBTs are of special concern because they last in the environment and concentrate in living tissue, passing up the food chain. In addition, they transfer easily from air to water to land. They pose a significant risk to human health and ecosystems and endure in the environment for generations.

Toxins that showed an increase in the tire test burn include: lead, mercury, arsenic, chromium VI, cadmium, barium, zinc and benzene. Even with the increases, the levels present during the test were well within EPA limits.

But opponents of tire burning dispute the conclusion that the increases pose no health threat. They say there is no such thing as a safe increase when it comes to PBTs. Ken Dobbs points to the higher amount of mercury, which he says will result in an additional 2,145 grams of mercury making its way into the environment annually, where it will stay for decades. He cites an EPA report that states one gram of mercury can contaminate a 20-acre lake.

"That’s enough to contaminate more than 2,000 20-acre lakes each year," he says.

He also claims the test results are the product of a test burn conducted under the best possible conditions and that, given Cemex’s history, the results are bound to deteriorate when state officials are not watching.

Lawsuit landmine

Whether Cemex is allowed to burn tires is up to Boulder County, at least initially. It’s a decision county officials perhaps wish they didn’t have to face.

In 1989, the county issued a special use permit to the plant to allow it to burn scrap tires, which the plant did between 1990 and 1993. The company has not burned tires since then.

In Sept. 1996, the county revised land use codes to make any special use permit that has not been used for a period of five years invalid. Those who oppose tire burning say Cemex’s special use permit expired in Sept. 2001, five years after the code revision was passed.

But Cemex argues the permit is still valid. In a letter to the county land use department, Cemex representatives claim that Cemex’s intention to use tires as fuel, its corporate planning regarding the burning of tires and its consulting on the issue ought to be enough to keep the permit alive.

The letter, dated April 10, also makes it clear that Cemex could sue the county should county officials declare the permit expired.

County Commissioner Paul Danish says the permit issue will likely end up in court.

"There will probably be a lawsuit from citizens if we find the permit has not lapsed, and there will probably be a lawsuit from Cemex if we find that it has," he says. "This is a fine example of why land use isn’t rocket science, it’s just hard."

The permit question has already been the subject of one as-yet unresolved lawsuit. In October 2002, the Sierra Club sued the county land use department, arguing that land use officials violated state law and county land-use codes by allowing tire burning at Cemex. District Court Judge Roxanne Bailin ruled that, if Cemex truly had not burned tires for a five-year period, the permit had lapsed. She remanded the case to the County Board of Adjustments, which will decide on Sept. 3 whether a five-year period of inactivity took place.

Ken Dobbs and Cargill say they’re suspicious of the county’s motives in supporting Cemex’s position on the special use permit.

"Knowing everything the cement plant has done in the past, why is it (Cemex) continues to get everything it asks for from the county and the state?" Dobbs asks. "I don’t know what to call that but preferential treatment."

The county’s alleged motive for such preferential treatment is open-space land, Cargill and Dobbs say.

They point to a couple of key transactions as evidence. The first occurred in 1989, shortly before Cemex, then Southdown, applied for the original permit to burn tires. At that time, the company donated a 480-acre parcel, called Indian Mountain, to the county.

Then, shortly after the cement plant announced its plans to begin burning tires again, it finally concluded a deal with the county over 1,600 acres known as Dow Flats. A county official was quoted in a local paper at the time as saying the county had been trying for a long time to purchase the land but hadn’t been able to work out the details.

"They apply for a permit, and all of a sudden this deal that’s been difficult to work out falls into place," Dobbs says. "It’s very interesting timing."

Cargill agrees.

"Boulder County has a vested interest in acquiring land from the cement plant," he says. "We don’t think they’re being objective about the burning."

Ron Stewart, a long-time county commissioner and director of Parks and Open Space, says Dobbs’ and Cargill’s theory are completely off the mark.

"I think that’s just bunk," he says. "Would they prefer we hadn’t added the land as open space?"

Stewart says the county’s mission to acquire land does not impact its regulatory responsibilities or judgment.

But neighborhood activists say they have proof the county doesn’t always do its job where the cement plant is concerned.

County land use documents unearthed by Ken and Mary Dobbs reveal that the plant, when owned by Southwestern Portland Cement, informed county officials in August 1988 that it wanted to burn waste oil and solvents for fuel, together with tires. According to the memo, plant officials were told they would need to apply for a special-use permit.

In December 1990, a concerned county official wrote to the Colorado Department of Health to inform them that the plant was burning waste oil, solvents and other contaminants as fuel–without the required permit. Plant representatives were again told they needed to get a permit.

Two months later, the company submitted an incomplete permit application, omitting data on the amount of waste oil being burned and estimated emissions. A memo states that the county had learned the plant had been burning waste oil and solvents as far back as 1975 for an estimated total of almost 90 million gallons.

The issue was brought to the attention of numerous county officials in March 1991 by a concerned citizen, who sent letters to the county commissioners, state senators and representatives, the county attorney and land use officials. Yet no action was taken against the plant.

Rather than complete the permit process, the plant ceased burning waste oil after discovering the 100,000-gallon tank they used to store the toxic liquids was leaking.

"That’s a tremendous amount of gallons," Ken Dobbs says. "How can all of this be done and the state and county know about it and nothing be done?"

The government’s inaction is the smoking gun that proves state and county officials can’t be trusted to keep tabs on Cemex, he says.

"It has ended up in the lap of the community to protect itself," he says. "I don’t have faith in our county government at this point."

Mary Dobbs says she’d be only too happy to see this six-year battle come to an end. Confronting the cement plant has turned her and her husband and neighbors into part-time investigators and has eaten up literally thousands of hours, she says.

A row of file cabinets in Cargill’s living room testify to the amount of documentation he and other neighborhood activists have acquired over the years.

"We don’t want to be doing this," says Ken Dobbs. "We have lives to live, and this consumes our lives. (Cemex) has a vested interest in burning tires. They’re going to save millions of dollars. All we’re trying to do is protect our health."

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