Texans argue over life in one of our most toxic towns
PORT ARTHUR, Texas -- There is a quiet battle for the future of this industrial town, one of America's most polluted places.
On one side is ex-mayor Oscar Ortiz, who in the waning days of his administration worried about one thing. But it wasn't the toxic chemicals that spew from petrochemical plants, the town's richest landowners, through the windows of its poorest residents.
What rattled Ortiz, who ran Port Arthur for nine years, was that someday the petrochemical plants would go away.
"The only money here in the city of Port Arthur that amounts to anything comes from industry, from petrochemical companies," said Ortiz, leaning back in his chair in an office decorated with framed photographs of refineries. "If industry goes away, people might as well go away too because there'll be no money. That's the continued salvation of this city."
Hilton Kelley, like Ortiz born and raised in Port Arthur, is the opposition.
Kelley does worry about the toxic chemicals, the foul-smelling air and the west side residents who suffer from asthma, respiratory ailments, skin irritations and cancer. As the city's most visible environmental activist, Kelley has long campaigned for more restrictions on industrial construction and stricter monitoring of plant emissions.
"I grew up smelling the SO2 (sulfur dioxide) smell, the chemicals. I remember seeing little kids with sores on their legs, with mucus running in August. It's ridiculous what we've had to deal with," says Kelley. "We're not trying to shut doors of industry. We're just trying to push these guys to do what's right."
Port Arthur, located next to the Louisiana line, sits in a corridor routinely ranked as one of the country's most polluted regions. Texas and Louisiana are home to five oil refineries considered among the nation's 10 worst offenders in releasing toxic air pollutants, emitting 8.5 million pounds of toxins together in 2002.
Yet even here, Port Arthur stands out.
Its skyline is framed by the smokestacks and knotted steel pipes of the refineries and chemical plants clustered along the edges of town. The smell of rotten eggs and sulfur hangs stubbornly over the apartments and shotgun houses on the west side. Port Arthur, population 57,000, is on the EPA's list of cities with dangerous ozone levels, and the state has flagged its excessive levels of benzene.
In other cities along the Texas Gulf Coast, refineries pay high taxes, money used to improve schools, create green space and bulk up city coffers. Port Arthur waives most property taxes to lure industry.
Jordan, 5, and Justin, 7, play on the swings at Carver Terrace, the public housing project they live in next door to refineries run by Motiva and Valero that produce half a million barrels of oil a day and belch thousands of pounds of pollutants into the air.
Jordan's lungs are so weakened from a lifelong battle with asthma and bronchitis that he can't shout or call for help like other children, mother LaShauna Green says. He must inhale medicine every four hours through a plastic mask that swamps his face. Every two hours, he must take one of seven prescription drugs that keep his air passages from tightening.
Justin struggles to breathe after climbing just one flight of stairs.
Those troubles vanished when the Green family left the area for a year following 2005's Hurricane Rita. But two days after their return to Carver Terrace, Justin was rushed to a hospital twice in one day with respiratory attacks.
Refineries and chemical plants contribute about 67 percent of the city's budget through some taxes, Ortiz said. Still, without the tax abatements for industry, the city would have collected tens of millions of dollars more.
Ortiz points to a new development on Pleasure Island, a resort with golf courses, new hotels and bustling shopping centers springing up on the city's south side.
However, that prosperity bypassed Port Arthur's predominantly black west side and central city neighborhoods, where singer Janis Joplin and sports legend Babe Zaharias were raised.
Valero said the refinery has hired 161 people since Jan. 1, 2005. About 20 percent live in Port Arthur. Valero officials also said they reduced emissions by more than 82 percent between 1996 and 2005, and have reduced sudden surprise emissions by 98 percent. Residents, however, still suffer higher rates of progressive pulmonary diseases than people elsewhere in the state.
Last year, Motiva agreed to give $3.5 million to help fund medical care, air monitors and a revitalization program for Port Arthur's west side.
And now, 50 years after Carver Terrace was built, the Port Arthur Housing Authority plans to demolish it and move residents to homes throughout the city.
Was Carver Terrace's proximity to the refinery the authority's prime motivation? No, said authority chief Cele Quesada. The likely buyer? Motiva Enterprises.
Kelley, who was born in Apartment 1202-E in Carver Terrace, commented: "When you appeal to the conscience of man, how these things are impacting our children, you can get them to see our point. But a lot of the times, the bottom line still wins."