Rescuers face a 'toxic gumbo'

The mucky terrain overwhelming, stench and bacteria-filled floodwaters hamper recovery efforts

BY J. JIONI PALMER | Staff Correspondent

September 11, 2005

CHALMETTE, LA. - Slogging through the muck - at times knee-high - in a door-to-door quest to account for every life lost, members of the Colorado National Guard's Bravo Company 1-157 Artillery Unit say their will is being tested in more ways than they thought imaginable.

The stench is overwhelming - often in homes where food and other perishables have rotted in the sweltering heat for almost two weeks since Hurricane Katrina smacked southeastern Louisiana. On the streets that are passable on foot, each step is laborious, making the recovery process painstakingly slow.

"It's like stepping knee-deep in a Port-A-Potty," Sgt. Noah McElroy said during a momentary break from covering an area just east of Parish Road. His assessment is greeted by a chorus of "yeah, that's it" and "you got it" from fellow soldiers.

The Colorado unit arrived about a week ago and is one of several teams in the parish now charged with reconnaissance: determining if there are bodies of people or pets and which units should return to deal with them.

Joseph Brocato, operations chief of the Central Maryland Task Force - a collection of fire and police personnel from the Baltimore area - said his people are trudging through three types of terrain, none desirable. "The dry is better than the sludge and the sludge is better than the wet," he said.

Aside from hampering the recovery process, the more time that passes, the more treacherous the conditions become to the health of the rescue crews.

William Goodwin, chief of the Baltimore Fire Department, said the accumulated sewage, oil, myriad chemicals - household and industrial - and stagnant water has created a toxic gumbo that grows more deadly with each passing hour. The slow ebb of the floodwaters, on top of the heat and humidity, are a perfect recipe to allow bacteria to germinate with potentially lethal consequences.

"We're not talking a two-day, I-got-diarrhea thing," said Goodwin, commanding office of the Central Maryland Task Force on hand for the recovery and cleanup efforts.

While rescue workers are not likely to ingest the contaminated goop, he said, sloshing around in it could send droplets flying into open eyes and mouths. Or a misstep could send a rescue worker tumbling face-forward. In addition, Goodwin said, the bacteria is airborne in many sections of St. Bernard Parish.

"In certain areas, it is already a serious threat," he said, after examining parts of the parish where extensive mold infestation has overtaken homes.

Brocato said the conditions are "slowing our people down because we have to take extra precautions." Recovery workers wear rubber boots - often hip-waders - two pairs of gloves and, in some cases, respiratory equipment. Brocato said he and team leaders are constantly reassessing the perils of each mission.

"It may come to the point that it is not worth the risk," he said, pausing as if to absorb the weight of that decision - that some of the deceased might not be recovered for some time.

Goodwin shook his head in frustration. "Who would have thought that in Day 12 of a disaster, we'd still be asking ourselves these questions? Usually at this point, we're well into the rebuilding."

Further compounding the cleanup, officials said, is where to pump all the contaminated water. Sending it into the Mississippi River just funnels it downriver into the surrounding wetlands and the Gulf of Mexico, endangering a host of wildlife and marine life, with broader implications for the region's extensive commercial and recreational fishing industries.

Lake Pontchartrain, the waters of which eventually flow into the gulf, provides a slightly better option, Goodwin said, because it is a large, somewhat stable body of water.

"In the hazardous-material business, the key is dilution, dilution, dilution," he said. "The further you dilute something, the more benign it becomes."