We were back in St. Bernard Parish today. We were chased away from both the Murphy and Chalmette oil refineries by security guards as we documented activities there. At Chalmette (a subsidiary of ExxonMobil) a security guard in a white pickup truck with "Homeland Security" in orange spray paint on the side told us, "Exxon doesn't allow any photos of the refinery to be taken, even if it's in the background." At least he was honest about who calls the shots in Louisiana.

Around New Orleans, one can drive for ten or 15 miles and see great swathes of urban America desecrated, deserted and debris-strewn. At night, the darkened skyline is barely visible by the light of the stars. A few Katrina refugees are filtering back. Many will be dispersing again, heading for higher ground, hoping to never go through this again.

Everyone we've met has been eager to tell his or her story, to have someone bear witness to what they've been through. In St. Bernard Parish, working class people of all races live between the two huge refineries. We spoke with Raymond Blazio in what remained of the trailer park in Meraux where 16 members of his extended family lived. He was waiting for his parents to arrive to see what had become of their home.

"I told them not to come. I was here a week ago and saw there was nothing to salvage, but they want to come, for closure," he said. "I'm worried about my mom's heart. She's strong, she's a persistent little lady, but I worry about her heart."

Gesturing toward the Murphy Oil tank farm adjacent to the ruins, he said, "There used to be woods back there. They protected us from the wind, from the storms. Then Murphy expanded. They cut down the woods and put in the tanks. We had no protection after that."

Raymond's brother's trailer was wrecked, his sister's trailer was wrecked, his aunt's trailer was wrecked. Raymond and his brother remodeled their parents' trailer last spring. "It looked like a trailer on the outside, but inside, it was a home. That was going to be for their retirement. Now it's gone." At his feet lay someone's sequined dress, a memory from a happier time.

A tank at the Murphy Oil refinery was knocked from its base by the flood. According to the U.S. Coast Guard 19,500 barrels, or 1,072,500 gallons of oil flooded into Meraux.

On Walkers Lane, George Harrison said the Murphy refinery seemed to have an explosion every year. Smoke and soot from the plant were a constant presence. "There are all kinds of lawsuits against Murphy. We're part of one of the lawsuits," he said. He does not have high hopes for the suit.

The Emerys on Walkers Lane have a big family, too. They too are scattered around the country, but Carol Emery is planning now to gather everyone together for Thanksgiving. "We are together every year and we will be together this year. We all got out safe, so we have so much to be thankful for."

"This is just material," she said, indicating her house with a hand gloved in latex. She wore heavy rubber boots, a protective suit and a particle mask. The first floor of her house was, weeks later, still sopping wet. Mold - and other things - were growing from her leather sofa.

Ms. Emery is a social worker, she and her family have taken in children to care for, have been a strong foundation for their community. "People have taken us in, have given us money," she said. "We've always given to other people. I can tell you, it does feel good to receive."

Danny Duchmann, on Livaccari Drive, was angry. "This neighborhood was fine the day after Katrina. People were out raking the leaves. Then the levee broke. The water came up fast; people were trapped. We gave these politicians our tax money to build up those levees. They promised, 'Vote for me, I'll strengthen the levees.' What happened? Pfft, the money went right into their pockets. Now look at us."

Most of the people of Meraux are moving on. Some will have to move on. A million gallons of oil spilled from the Murphy Oil refinery, the soil in some areas is so contaminated, people will never live there again.

Lawyers for Murphy are contacting some of the residents of Meraux, offering to buy up homes for another expansion of the refinery, another tank farm. For the people of St. Bernard Parish, Katrina was a disaster. For the corporations, it's a business opportunity.

We got our first look inside the city of New Orleans today, 29 days after Katrina struck. There's still water pooled in the streets on the east side of the city, thanks to levees that re-breached during Hurricane Rita. It's eerie to see mile after mile of residential and commercial neighborhoods of a major American city emptied of all life and strewn with debris. Mark was at ground zero in Manhattan a month after 9-11. Clean-up was underway, the city was coming back to life. A month after Katrina, New Orleans is still supine and it's not clear when it will get back on its feet.

We passed a car dealership with a lot full of sport utility vehicles, all ruined by floodwater. Those cars, at least, will not contribute to global warming.

We spent the morning in St. Bernard Parish, just east of New Orleans. It's home to two refineries - Chalmette Refining (owned by ExxonMobil) and Murphy Oil Refining - as well as low-income citizens of several races. An oil tank floated off its mooring during Katrina and spilled approximately 800,000 gallons of oil into the neighborhood. Some houses in St. Bernard's have high-water marks, some have high-oil marks, black rings marking the furthest extent of the flood. We spoke to several families who were able to return to their homes for the first time in a month. None of the people we spoke with will return to St. Bernard Parish. One man estimated 70 percent of the residents will never return.

This afternoon, we spent four hours flying over the Gulf of Mexico, checking on oil platforms. Weather was perfect for flying - five miles visibility, sunlight reflecting off the cyan water of the gulf. There are, however, 4,000 oil platforms in the gulf and almost one-quarter of them were in Rita’s path. One rig - Rowan Gorilla IV - was pumping oil over the side as we approached, but cut the flow as we made a second pass. Must have been feeling guilty, eh?

We saw a five-mile long oil slick and are investigating what might have caused it. We observed damage to refineries in Port Arthur, Texas. We saw plenty of damage to wetlands along the Louisiana and Texas coastlines, ensuring that damage from future storms will be severe.

Autumn is spreading across much of the American continent; homeowners are growing anxious about the cost of heating oil as the nights grow cold. Reuters reports Hurricane Rita may be the most damaging storm ever, in regard to oil production in the Gulf of Mexico, which will send prices even higher.

It's still hot and humid in southern Louisiana; last night we were attacked by fire ants after we inadvertently stepped on their nest in the dark.

We're back in the flood zone and things are more chaotic than they were after the last storm. More and more contractors and insurance assessors are pouring into southern Louisiana; the highways are jammed with vehicles. It's a reminder of how thin our infrastructure is and how easily it's disrupted.

We've heard about two major causes for concern in Mississippi. Reports say that 40 percent of the wetlands along the coast can no longer function in the ecosystem as they did before. That's a serious problem, because abundant, healthy wetlands are necessary buffers to protect coastlines during storms like Katrina and Rita. Draining and development of wetlands in recent years contributed to the severity of the effects of the storms this year. Environmentalists are calling for immediate remedial action.

Also in the news, casino owners are calling for changes to Mississippi law. Until now, gambling has only been allowed on "boats," so casinos have been built on floating platforms that are no more "boats" than a bathtub is. Now, because of the storms, gaming interests are asking Mississippi for permission to build casinos inland. It will be interesting to see whether wetlands or casinos become the legislative priority.

Here in Louisiana, we heard today that a bill has been introduced to the state Senate calling for a temporary moratorium on state environmental laws, to speed rebuilding. Similar language has been introduced to the U.S. Senate by Senators James Inhofe (R-OK) and David Vitter (R-LA). Far from helping a recovery, if these bills pass they will ensure that the damage from future storms will be greater than what we're witnessing now.

After withdrawing to wait out Hurricane Rita's passing, the team has reconstituted itself. John Hocevar and Thomas McCabe have replaced Stephanie and Mike. We drove down from Birmingham, AL through the remnant of the storm - thunder, lightening, torrential rain, hail and tornados in eastern Mississippi.

It's autumn now, the days are shorter and behind the rain, the air is somewhat cooler. It's humid in Hattiesburg and the evening breeze carries a whiff of the industrial South - the sour, cabbage-like odor of a pulp mill.

The news reports say the hurricane's strength was spent from Port Arthur, Texas to Lake Charles, Louisiana. Greenpeace has a long history of working on the oil refineries along the Texas coast, and the polyvinyl chloride production facilities in Lake Charles, so we'll have a list of sites to check.

Tomorrow we'll meet a pilot in Gonzales, LA and survey Rita's wake from the air. Tonight, we're dealing with domestic issues, like folding John's 6'3" frame onto one of the RV's bunks.

We're pulling back to Birmingham, AL tonight as Hurricane Rita moves into the gulf region and the parishes of Louisiana are once again evacuated. As much as we'd like to stay on hand and help during the storm, we don't have the proper equipment to offer first response.

The team is dispersing, regrouping and getting ready to dive back in. Christian and Mark will return to the gulf after Rita, with new activists to replace Stephanie and Mike, who are pulled away by other commitments.

We drove north on Interstate 59. Going our way were the various contractors and cleanup specialists also removing themselves from Rita's path. In the oncoming lane along the Mississippi line, we saw a convoy of empty buses heading south, presumably to evacuate gulf residents.

Rita will be the second major hurricane to hit the gulf in less than a month. The news today was full of stories of Houstonians trapped and running out of gas on gridlocked freeways as they attempt to flee their city.

It's as if it were a scene from a movie whose director can't help ladling on the ironic overstatement. In Houston, the oil capital of America, the oil addicts scramble to flee from the monster given life by their behavior.

Yet the Bush administration seems to grow more heedless with each passing catastrophe. In Katrina's wake the administration and its cronies are calling for a relaxation of environmental laws and building codes so New Orleans can be rebuilt "as quickly as possible."

It's a sad day when tragedy is seen by our leaders only as an opportunity to advance the interests of the corporations that financed their election, but it seems that day is upon us.

View a slideshow of what we've seen


September 21, 2005
Listen to the audio update


Things here in Louisiana are starting to come full circle. We came down here to investigate and document the effects of hurricane Katrina on the environment and on people's lives. As we take our last trips into the field, we do so with yet another hurricane bearing down upon the Gulf Coast. The new storm, hurricane Rita, looms heavily in the minds of the residents here in Louisiana, as it comes on the heels of hurricane Katrina. As we write, Rita has attained Category 4 status; the same as hurricane Katrina had when it hit land in Louisiana and Mississippi.

Outside we can see a procession of vehicles leaving New Orleans and other parishes, and we can feel the wind picking up. Although the storm is expected to make landfall in Texas, a considerable amount of rain is forecast for this area, and given the extremely weakened condition of the levee system, residents here are taking no chances.

We ourselves are preparing to leave the area sometime tomorrow. Mark and Christian are out in Plaquemines Parish again, to further document the environmental hazards in the area as a result of hurricane Katrina, and the presence of dangerous oil and chemical facilities in the path of such storms. Stephanie and Mike are preparing the RV and other gear for the long trip back home.

The effects of hurricane Katrina and the presence of Hurricane Rita in the Gulf illustrate how our dependence on oil has finally come full circle. The U.S., and other industrialized nations, is so dependent on oil that we will drill virtually anywhere in the world to get it. We then burn it in our cars, our homes, our work, and in the process we release CO2 into the atmosphere and heat the planet. As a result, we see more storms with greater intensity that, ironically, affect areas in the U.S. where there is a lot of drilling and production of oil. This leads to even further damage to the environment as we have seen in the aftermath of Katrina. It is clear that the U.S. needs an energy policy that promotes renewable and clean sources of energy. The U.S. also needs to phase-out the use of highly toxic industrial chemicals for which there are already cleaner and safer alternatives.

We're all a bit strung out from the shock of what we've witnessed and the hours we've worked since we arrived in Louisiana. Kenny Bruno departed Sunday. Christian, Mike and Mark spent Monday in the devastated portion of Plaquemines Parish.

Read more about our investigation and watch a video of our time in the field.



Listen to the latest audio update.


A parish in Louisiana is the municipal equivalent of a county in any other U.S. state. Plaquemines Parish is in the extreme southeast of Louisiana, comprising two narrow strips of land on either side of the Mississippi River as it flows into the Gulf of Mexico. The people and the parish government are long acquainted with hurricanes, but nothing could have prepared them for Katrina.

The lower 40 miles of the parish is - for all intents and purposes - gone. A 30-foot storm surge leveled most houses and filled the rest with oily, toxic scum. Power lines are down, schools and stores are destroyed and the vessels of the parish's fishing fleet are sunk, smashed or scattered.

The demise of the fishing fleet may be a moot point, because Plaquemines Parish is a transfer point for crude oil pumped in pipelines from the gulf. Katrina ruptured oil tanks and pipelines, spilling millions of gallons of crude oil, which mixed with gasoline from cars and gas stations. The resulting stew is seeping into the marshes and oyster beds. Fishermen we spoke with expect they will be closed for years.

The water table in lower Plaquemines is very near the surface; houses there draw treated water from central facilities and still most people drink only bottled water. This was prior to Katrina, water quality will sink lower now.

Monday we witnessed a "cleanup" of an oil spill at a Shell Oil facility in Nairn. Workers launched 20-foot, flat-bottomed boats equipped with pitchforks, dip nets and bales of what are essentially big towels, which they drop onto the oil spill. The towels absorb oil, are pulled back into the boats and driven away in trucks. The only protective gear provided the workers were latex gloves and hard hats.

None of the residents we spoke with said they have heard any word about the oil spills or possible toxic threat. Parish officials and police - who have been stretched to the utmost - also express frustration with the lack of cooperation from the oil companies, although they would not express such frustration for the record.

Cows and horses roam the polluted marshes, looking sick and dehydrated for lack of clean water. Dogs and cats are approaching a feral state after three weeks among the ruins. Animal rescue teams from are the country are on site.

Trees and grass are brown, killed by the surge of oil-tainted seawater. Fishing nets and bed linen hang from trees. Trucks, cars and boats are lie everywhere, personal possessions lie everywhere. Only the road, cleared by emergency crews, seems normal.

In the two days we've been in lower Plaquemines Parish, we've seen one reporter and four photographers. The world needs to hear what is happening there.

We shifted our operations late last night from Baton Rouge to Boutte (pronounced boo-TEE), on the west bank of the Mississippi, just southwest of New Orleans. As the campgrounds are full, we spent the night in a parking lot.

Thanks to information provided by Greenpeace alumnus Steve Kretzmann, we learned that one of the oil spills we saw from the helicopter yesterday was the largest one (that we know of) in Louisiana, 3.78 million gallons into Cox Bay from the Bass Enterprises Production Company.

Christian, Stephanie and Kenny are on the river in Plaquemines Parish today to get ground (and sea) level documentation of the oil spills and storm surge damage we saw from the air yesterday.

The Jackson (MS) Clarion-Ledger reports that the Department of Justice has sent an e-mail to various U.S. attorneys, asking if any have benn involved in lawsuits regarding environmental groups and levees near New Orleans. The Clarion-Ledger surmises that the Bush administration will attempt to blame the damage caused by Hurricane Katrina on environmentalists, rather than on intense storms induced by global warming and neglect by federal officials.

What do we know about Hurricane Katrina that you don't? Maybe more, maybe less. Here in the zone, things are chaotic. There's much work to be done and not much time for overview. We have to focus on the tasks at hand and so we may know less about the overall situation than folks watching television from a distance. We arrived around midnight last night; the good folks at the Louisiana Environmental Action Network let us park our vehicles in their driveway and use their office this morning. We can report that at least on their street in Baton Rouge there's water enough to flush toilets but not enough for a shower and it's not safe to drink.

After a few hours sleep, Mark, Mike and Christian spent a good portion of the day flying over the lower Mississippi in a helicopter. Several communities are nothing more than ruins standing in floodwater. Boats and barges rest on now-dry land, others are capsized and submerged in the river and attendant channels.

We saw spilled oil from ruptured holding tanks at Bass Oil Enterprises and Chevron facilities. Crews were on scene spreading booms and trying to contain the spills, but oil was seeping into the marshes in every direction.

That's direct observation; MSNBC reports 44 oil spills in southeastern Louisiana (including the two above), the Dallas Morning News reports that the total oil spilled by Katrina may rival that spilled by the Exxon Valdez in Alaska in 1989.

The federal government is finally here in force. Military helicopters crossed our path several times. The airport in Hammond from which we took off is being used as a forward deployment area for a team from Customs and Border Protection. The highway is alive with pickup trucks, back windows bearing "FEMA" placards run off on a copier.

Local environmental groups are nearly overwhelmed. Aside from caring for their own families and lost houses, activists are trying to use their Warholian 15 minutes of media attention to attempt to explain decades of ecological abuse corporate America has heaped on the region. Then they try to get the attention of federal bureaucrats so that some of the money appropriated for relief actually does some good for the enviroment and doesn't all wind up leaving town in the pockets of federal contractors.

Stephanie and Kenny are off investigating the effects of the storm on chemical plants in Mississippi. We heard from them that they're on their way back, but it's getting late, they've got a 150-mile drive and there are thunderstorms moving through the area. Groundstrokes light up Baton Rouge, the power flickers, then catches and flashes back on. The rain pools quickly, reminding us of how close the water table is to the surface of the earth here and how water - and toxic chemicals - flow both ways.

We're taking the long route into the hurricane zone, through Jackson, MS, because we cannot get solid information about which roads are open along the gulf. We entered the edge of the damage zone as we moved south and west of Meridian, MS. Trees are snapped and we frequently see downed highway signs.

It's hot, but the humidity is not yet oppressive. We spent several hours in Birmingham, AL this afternoon, securing a four-wheel drive vehicle and shifting gear in the 100-plus-degree heat. The team has read the media reports from the storm zone, but as we approach the gulf we're getting a visceral understanding of how death came so frequently to elderly and infirm hurricane victims left without water or shelter.

Stopping on the Alabama-Mississippi border, Mike noticed gas purchases were limited to $30 per customer. The price is about three dollars a gallon for 87 octane. We expect gas to be more expensive - and more strictly rationed - as we move south.

Kenny Bruno spent the day in New Orleans. Due to poor cell phone coverage, communication with him has been infrequent and brief. He has managed to arrange a helicopter flight for tomorrow morning to give us a look at areas inaccessible by land and difficult to reach by boat.

A grapefruit-sized orange sun has just dropped behind the long-leaf pines. Red sky at night, a sign of good weather. Ground fog rises from the marshes and moves toward the road. We meet Kenny in Baton Rouge in two hours.

We've recently sent a team to New Orleans to asses the environmental impacts. While they are there we will be posting updates from them. Below is the first one.

The team pulled out of the Washington DC area at 11pm last night. Here in the RV is Stephanie Hillman - actions and logistics, Mike Johnson - communications/tech guru, Christian Ashlund - Photo/Videographer, and Mark Floegel - On-site campaigner. We'll pick up team leader Kenny Bruno in Baton Rouge where he is meeting with local activists. Our mission is to assess the state of industrial toxicants in the floodwaters left in communities by hurricane Katrina. We're carrying an assortment of gear to record and report, we've culled Greenpeace's files for the best intelligence on what we might find on the Gulf of Mexico, we have respirators, waders, and hazardous material clothing to protect ourselves from what so many have already been exposed to. We are each carrying memories of our own experiences working with communities along the lower Mississippi's Cancer Alley.

Hurricane Katrina was, as we know, predicted well in advance. Little action was taken to protect the poorest and most vulnerable in the storm's path. Similarly, Greenpeace and community activists have been predicting a reckoning for the heedless use of toxic chemicals as industrial feed stocks. The price for the corporate catastrophe, like the natural catastrophe will be paid, for the most part, by low-income communities of color. Again these communities will see a spike in cancer deaths. Ground water, the quality of which was already questionable, will likely be undrinkable for years if not decades to come.

Like all activists, we like to be in the middle of things so we're grateful for the opportunity to contribute. The foundation of the work we are about to do was laid by a generation of Greenpeace Toxics campaigners, especially Damu Smith and Rick Hind. Look for our reports in the days ahead.

Peace

Mark Floegel
Stephanie Hillman
Christian Ashlund
Mike Johnson

New York Attorney General Eliot Spitzer has found his next political target: The Department of Energy. Seems the agency that oversees nuclear power (a favorite of terrorists) has been dragging it's feet on energy efficiency standards for household appliances. We say, go get 'em Elliot.

Last night I was watching a program on the Discovery Channel (I looked for a link to it on their site but boy is that site obnoxious) about how the levees along the Missisippi are destroying the wetlands. The wetlands that in turn absorb some of the energy from storms. Not only do we destroy the wetlands but by doing so storms get stronger. All because some fool wants water front property.