ReturnToTheTarSands

Last night we pulled into Fort Saskatchewan, a small city north-east of Edmonton. It is part of “Alberta’s Industrial Heartland,” where much of the bitumen pulled from the tar sands is upgraded and refined. This sprawling region has earned the local nickname “Upgrader Alley” thanks to its fate as the site of up to eleven new upgraders to be built in the coming decade. These will take up residence alongside one existing upgrader, as well as dozens of refineries, petrochemical plants, and other industrial facilities.

Before it became an industrial sacrifice zone, this area was covered by farms. Several unlucky farm families are still stuck here, living on land that is utterly surrounded by massive industrial facilities. We met a few last night, at a barbeque and story-sharing session organized by the Council of Canadians, a chapter of which has been newly established here. I talked to Kathy Radke, a dairy farmer whose home and farm sit just beside the massive Shell property, which boasts a refinery, one operating upgrader, and a second under construction.

The land was bought from Kathy’s in-laws in the 1980s by Atco, a company that stores natural gas in underground salt mines. When Kathy and her husband moved in, leasing their home from Atco, they were told they would be able to live there safely through their retirement. Then the refineries and chemical plants began to set up residence in the area; soon, the Radkes were closed in on all sides.

Their problems really started, says Kathy, when Shell built the first upgrader in 2003. Accidents were rare before then, but in recent years she claims that about four to five “incidents” happen each year. Each time, sirens will go off, and as dense plumes of toxic vapour blow their way, nearby residents are expected to phone a hotline to find out how serious the accident was (is total evacuation of the area necessary, or do they merely need to confine themselves to their houses for the afternoon?) Half the time, says Kathy, the hotline isn’t updated until hours later. “Why don’t they just supply us all with air packs?” she wonders. “Then when we hear the sirens, we can put on the air packs immediately.” She’s suggested this to the company, which so far has shown no interest in such a precaution.

In addition to these frightening accidents, the residents in the area are exposed to routine emissions of sulfur dioxide and other toxic gases, which exceed the “objective line” (the acceptable level as defined by existing regulations) on a regular basis. Over the past two years, Kathy’s family has lost 45 dairy cows out of a herd of 140, and she suspects fluorosis (poisoning from fluoride emissions) as the cause. Although she couldn’t afford to autopsy any of her cows, she says that an elk farmer the area once had a dead deer of his tested, and fluorosis was confirmed.

Kathy estimates that over the past couple of years she’s put a year’s worth of full-time work into researching the regulations, tracking the area’s emission levels, and attending meetings and hearings to have her concerns addressed. Her family simply cannot afford to move, and she will likely be stuck with these unwelcome neighbours for the rest of her life.

Filed under: Environmental Justice, TTTS on August 30th, 2007