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Rick Feutz still
remembers how the sawdust caked his body.
The Seattle science
teacher was building a wooden float for his children. The experience would
change his life.

Rick
Feutz shown here on the beach near his Poulsbo, Wash., home, suffers
some facial paralysis and lack of strength in his fingers because
of a reaction to working with treated wood in 1986 |
For more than a week,
Feutz cut pressure-treated wood with a power saw. After a few days, he
felt like he was getting the flu. After a few more days, he collapsed
while pushing a wheelbarrow.
For a year, Feutz
couldn't walk without a walker and was so disoriented in the dark he had
to crawl.
Fifteen years later,
the former Washington Teacher of the Year still suffers from weakness,
memory loss and partial paralysis in his face - lingering effects from
what doctors said was severe arsenic poisoning.
The arsenic was in
the wood.
Pressure-treated
lumber contains a potent chemical called CCA, which stands for chromium,
copper and arsenic. Chromium and arsenic are heavy metals known to cause
cancer. They are also among the most toxic substances for people and animals.
Most people who
buy the wood don't know that.
Thousands use it
every day, to build billions of board feet of decks, fences, porches and
picnic tables. The chemical wards off insects and prevents fungus. Most
consumers don't get a warning about it.
In recent weeks,
statewide media attention has focused on the use of CCA-treated wood at
playgrounds. Arsenic in the wood is leaching into the soil, and authorities
are fencing off playgrounds until they figure out whether the levels are
safe.
Last week, workers
began removing playground equipment at the Baby Gator child care center
on the University of Florida campus. With kids, the wood is just too risky,
university health officials said.
But as Feutz's case
makes clear, the wood can be riskier for people who work with it.
"When I think
of it now, I think of that fine sawdust all over my body, brushing it
off," said Feutz, now 53 and an executive for a company that makes
computer keyboards. "I didn't think anything of it."
And why would he?
Like most people,
Feutz didn't know the wood was filled with pesticide. He didn't know he
was supposed to wear a dust mask when he sawed it. He never got the warning
sheet the industry promised it would give to consumers.
He didn't know a
single board contains enough arsenic to kill 80 people or make hundreds
very sick.
He didn't know sawdust
could hurt so bad.
Feutz might not
be the only one who found out too late.
A Gainesville Sun
investigation found more than 40 incidents nationwide where a person blamed
CCA-treated wood for illness or injury. At least a dozen of those incidents
were supported by a doctor's testimony or toxicology reports. In two cases,
a jury agreed the chemical was at fault.
There is no comprehensive
government registry of cases or problems involving pressure-treated wood.
The Sun found these incidents in court records, medical journals and government
files obtained through the Freedom of Information Act.
Many incidents involved
sawing. Some involved burning or splinters. Some involved merely handling
the wood.
Together, the incidents
suggest that carpenters, construction workers and do-it-yourself consumers
who work with the wood all the time may be facing an unanticipated threat
to their health.
Kids not No. 1
problem
In the past year,
CCA has come under intense scrutiny in Florida.
Environmental officials
are worried about arsenic leaching into groundwater. Parents are worried
about arsenic at playgrounds.
In the past two
weeks, authorities in Florida have closed parts of at least a half-dozen
playgrounds because high arsenic levels were found in the soil. Last year,
the Kidspace playground at Terwilliger Elementary School in Gainesville
was torn down for the same reason.
Meanwhile, a lawsuit
filed in federal court in Miami this month charged the $4 billion-a-year
treated-wood industry with hiding the dangers of CCA.
Suddenly, everyone
wants to know if their kid's playground is a hazardous waste site.
Most toxicologists
say there's no cause for alarm. They say the chances are extremely slim
that a child might be poisoned or get cancer from playing on CCA-treated
wood, or even from eating the arsenic-laced dirt beneath it.
The industry has
said that all along.
After a yearlong
search, The Sun found only one incident involving CCA and children. And
it involved exposure from burning CCA wood in a stove - not from climbing
on a pressure-treated play set.
The incidents reviewed
by The Sun suggest the biggest threat from CCA isn't on the playgrounds.
It's at the garages,
workshops and construction sites where people saw or sand the wood, and
in other places where they might burn or mishandle it.
Among the incidents:
- A New York man
swelled up and stopped breathing while he was making a deck.
- An Indiana man
vomited several pints of blood after making picnic tables.
- An Alabama man
got a splinter that caused his hand to swell up like a lobster claw.
- A California man
got a headache that lasted five days after boring holes in the wood.
- A Florida man
lost two prize race horses after they ate CCA-treated fencing.
- A Wisconsin family
suffered seizures, blackouts and massive hair loss after burning it.
William Croft, a
retired environmental toxicology professor at the University of Wisconsin,
diagnosed the Wisconsin family and determined they were poisoned by arsenic
in the wood.
Pressure-treated
wood is "really dangerous," Croft said. "The public has
no idea."
But if the wood
is so bad, wouldn't more people report getting sick?
"I don't believe
it," said Harold McCann, a Levy County man who was buying pressure-treated
wood at Lowe's in Gainesville last week.
"I use the
chips and sawdust in my garden," said McCann's neighbor, Pat Reagan.
To be sure, thousands
of people use pressure-treated wood every day and do not get sick.
Toxicologists say
some people are more sensitive to toxins than others.
Some people might
have gotten a heavier dose of arsenic because of special circumstances,
such as prolonged sawing in an unventilated room. Some people might have
exposed themselves, but not at levels that led to noticeable effects.
Critics of CCA say
some people might have gotten sick and never suspected the wood.
Why would they suspect
it, they ask, if they don't know what's in it?
Some specialists
who track worker safety issues see a threat. They say they are convinced
carpenters and construction workers have been put at increased risk of
certain types of cancer because of chronic exposure to low levels of arsenic
from CCA.
Because CCA didn't
become widely used until the 1970s, they say those effects wouldn't show
up until now. No government studies are under way to measure whether they
have.
The wood industry
says there is no proof the wood ever hurt anybody.
It says sawdust
from CCA wood is no worse than sawdust from chemical-free wood.
Last week, Home
Depot in Gainesville posted information sheets near every stack of CCA
lumber that say the wood is no more toxic than "ordinary table salt."
The sheets were made by Osmose Wood Preserving Inc., a leading manufacturer
of CCA.
There are no documented
cases where "a doctor said, 'This is the cause, this is the effect,'
" said Huck DeVenzio, a spokesman for Arch Wood Protection, formerly
Hickson Inc., another leading maker of CCA.
As for some of the
cases found by The Sun, DeVenzio said he never heard of them and couldn't
comment.
Popular product
CCA is everywhere.
Ranchers use it
for fences. Utility companies use it for power poles. Government agencies
use it for bus stops and boardwalks.
Do-it-yourselfers
use it the most. For barriers to set off gardens. For decks to barbecue
on. For picnic tables and swing sets.
Look around: All
that wood with the greenish tint? That's CCA.
For the wood industry,
CCA is a miracle product. It extends the life of cut Southern pine from
a few years to a few decades. The arsenic wards off termites. The copper
stops fungus. The chromium helps it bind to the wood.
Without CCA, the
industry says 225 million more trees would be cut down every year to replace
rotting wood.
Environmental officials
overseas have not been persuaded. Switzerland, Vietnam and Indonesia have
banned CCA-treated wood. Japan, Germany and a handful of other countries
have put tough restrictions on its use.
In the United States,
CCA-treated wood is one of the anchors of the billion-dollar home-improvement
industry. Every day, thousands of people load it up at Lowe's, Home Depot,
Scotty's and other lumber retailers.
It's so popular,
it even transcends college football rivalries. UF coach Steve Spurrier
and Florida State Seminoles coach Bobby Bowden both pitch Osmose treated
lumber in TV commercials.
Dangerous substances
But some people
are seeing those decks and play sets in a new light.
Both arsenic and
chromium are on the government's Top 20 list of hazardous substances.
Arsenic is No. 1.
There is some debate
about whether the chromium found in pressure-treated wood is in a form
that can be harmful.
The wood is treated
with a solution that includes hexavalent chromium. That's the toxin in
the film "Erin Brockovich," which was based on the real-life
story of a scrappy law clerk who links a town's medical problems to pollution
in drinking water.
The industry says
once the chromium binds to the wood, it reverts to a less harmful form.
But some CCA critics, such as Indiana attorney David MacRae, who has filed
several lawsuits against the industry, point to studies that suggest not
all of it converts.
There is no debate
about the arsenic. Toxicologists agree it's in a form that can hurt.
In pure form, it
takes only a pinch of arsenic - a fraction of the amount in a sugar packet
- to kill a person. It takes even less to make a person very sick.
The question is:
Can enough be released in sawdust - and then inhaled, or ingested, or
absorbed through the skin - to hurt somebody?
Mel Pine, spokesman
for the American Wood Preservers Institute, said the makers of CCA haven't
even studied the possibility because it's "so remote."
Some doctors and
toxicologists say otherwise.
In either case,
The Sun found little coordination between government health and safety
agencies to study and track any problems.
"We're all
aware of the possibility," said Selene Chou, an environmental health
scientist with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and a
leading arsenic expert. "The pathway is there. The chemical is there."
But the studies
are not. Agencies that evaluate the risks of consumer products and dangers
in the workplace haven't assessed the risks of CCA. They say they haven't
received any complaints. The Sun found them at another agency.
For a 1990 report,
the US Consumer Products Safety Commission determined the long-term cancer
risk to children playing on pressure-treated wood. It concluded the risk
was remote.
But the commission
never studied the risk to consumers from splinters or toxic sawdust.
The commission frequently
issues warnings or recalls on products. Often, it takes only the possibility
of an injury to prompt such action - as in 1996, when the agency recalled
stuffed animals with detachable plastic eyes that might choke a child.
But in this case,
the commission would "probably yield to EPA," agency spokesman
Ken Giles said.
EPA files show at
least a dozen cases where people blamed their ailments - headaches, rashes,
shot nerves - on CCA-treated wood.
It is unclear whether
any of them had medical documentation. To protect their privacy, the EPA
blacked out their names, phone numbers and addresses before releasing
the reports.
In one complaint,
a Melbourne Beach man told the EPA in 1997 that for three years, he sawed
CCA wood at a construction site.
He suspected that
sawdust and fumes from a hot saw ruined the nerves in his legs and feet.
He said doctors in Jacksonville and Gainesville told him he was just getting
old, but another doctor found high levels of arsenic in his hair.
"At no time
were we told about the dangers involved with the use of CCA-treated lumber,"
the man wrote. "I hope to find out if anyone is responsible for not
telling us."
Day in court denied
If researchers ever
do launch a study, they might include Russell Sirico.
Sirico thought "pressure-treated"
meant the wood had been pressurized to be more compact, stronger. He didn't
know pressure-treated wood had been bathed in a giant cylinder full of
chemicals and injected - at high pressure - with arsenic and chromium.
"It's not 'chemical
treated.' It's not 'pesticide treated.' It's pressure treated," said
Sirico, a US Postal Service employee who lives 50 miles north of New York
City. "I had no idea it was dangerous."
In the summer of
1989, Sirico, now 42, set out to build a deck. It was hot. He didn't wear
a shirt. He sawed and hammered at the wood all day for days.
"I was getting
the sawdust on my skin. I was smoking cigarettes. I was eating, drinking,"
he said. "I sucked it in every way you can probably think of."
After a week, Sirico
was weak and breaking out in rashes. After two weeks, his face, arms and
legs "swelled up like a balloon." He collapsed at work and was
taken to the hospital. The next day, he had a severe asthma attack, something
he never had before.
For a few moments,
he stopped breathing.
Doctors who treated
Sirico concluded his "life threatening" reaction was because
of chemicals in the wood, court records show.
Sirico filed suit
against the lumber company and CCA makers in 1990 but would never get
his day in court.
A judge ruled the
defendants followed federal law in putting a warning label on the chemical
that was shipped to the treatment plant.
Sirico complained
that he had never been warned. The wood itself did not have a warning
on it.
The decision was
upheld.
A doctor hired by
the treated-wood industry said there was no proof Sirico was poisoned
by CCA.
Even if he was,
the doctor said, his reaction was so "highly unusual and idiosyncratic"
the industry couldn't be liable.
Sick after sawing
But other people
have fallen sick after sawing pressure-treated wood.
In Washington state,
county parks worker Robert Clement got sick building bridges in '78 and
'79.
He was sawing a
type of pressure-treated wood related to CCA that also contains arsenic.
He became weak. His muscles atrophied. Lesions formed on his hands and
feet. A neurologist said in a court deposition he had arsenic poisoning.
Clement sued the
companies that treated and supplied the wood. A jury awarded him $450,000.
In Indiana, US Forest
Service worker James Sipes got sick building picnic tables in 1983 and
1984.
Sipes vomited blood
on two separate occasions. His coworker also got sick. Tests done on their
hair and nails showed arsenic levels that were hundreds of times above
normal. After the second incident, Sipes did not return to work.
Sipes and his coworker
sued lumber stores, wood treaters and CCA makers. They settled with all
but one company for $667,000. After a trial, a jury told the holdout to
pay $100,000.
In Missouri, state
parks worker Randy Wadlow got sick building CCA walkways in 1986 and 1987.
For a year, he sawed
it, stacked it and breathed in fumes created by welding near it. He said
he got weaker and weaker, but didn't want to complain. Finally, he coughed
up blood and had to be hospitalized. He never returned to work.
A doctor told Wadlow
he had "toxic pneumonia."
"I got to the
point where I thought I was going to die," Wadlow said. "I never
did feel any better. Burnt my sinuses up."
Industry insiders
have known about problems, potentially caused by the chemical, for decades.
In an interoffice
memo obtained in a liability case involving CCA, former industry scientist
Robert Arsenault lists three incidents he said may have been caused by
"CCA dust toxicity."
At the time, Arsenault
worked for Koppers, a company that has since become part of Arch Wood
Protection.
In one incident,
college students in a research lab got sick from sanding the wood and
inhaling the dust.
In the second, a
man machining and planing CCA-treated poles for a week "went home
sick with respiratory illness, coughing and general ill health,"
the memo said.
In the third, workmen
building wood foundations began "coughing up blood and had developed
a skin rash."
Arsenault said in
all three cases, the workers recuperated.
The scientist's
memo was written in 1977.
Voluntary warnings
The EPA once wanted
warnings. Mandatory warnings.
In 1978, the agency
undertook an official review of all types of wood preservatives, including
CCA.
It was concerned
that chemicals in the wood were hurting people and the environment. In
the early 1980s, it decided there was enough of a threat that warning
sheets should be given to every customer who buys CCA-treated wood.
The industry and
the EPA don't call those notices "warning sheets." They call
them "consumer information sheets."
But the sheets tell
people there is arsenic in the wood, that exposure can be hazardous and
that a long list of precautions should be taken before working with it.
Among the instructions:
Wear gloves. Wear goggles. Wear a dust mask.
And don't burn it
because "toxic chemicals may be produced as part of the smoke and
ashes."
The industry fought
a mandatory warning.
It suggested a voluntary
program and promised the EPA that consumers would get information sheets.
In 1985, after battling the industry for seven years, the EPA said OK.
Greg Kidd, legal
policy director for the anti-pesticide group Beyond Pesticides, speculated
the industry fought mandatory warnings because telling buyers up front
about toxins in the wood would have been "business suicide."
Several industry
representatives said they didn't know why the industry fought for a voluntary
program.
But they agreed
it is not working.
State officials
have complained to the EPA about the program for years.
In 1993, the South
Dakota Department of Agriculture surveyed lumber retailers in that state
to find how many were handing out consumer information sheets. The survey
was ordered after a child was found playing with pieces of CCA wood and
sawdust.
The survey found
fewer than one in 10 lumber stores were handing out sheets at the point
of sale - which is what the EPA wanted and the industry promised. South
Dakota officials forwarded their findings to the EPA, but nothing changed.

Gainesville carpenter Joseph Saccocci has worked with CCA-treated
lumber for five years. JOHN MORAN/The Gainesville Sun |
"I never got
one," Gainesville carpenter Joseph Saccocci said.
Saccocci said he
thought the term "treated wood" meant it had been doused with
water repellent.
Carpenters "don't
think of this as chemical," said Saccocci, working on a deck in northwest
Gainesville. "We think of this as wood."
Saccocci said he
has never taken any special precautions with the wood. He said he doesn't
know many carpenters who have.
The lawsuit filed
in Miami two weeks ago called the industry's consumer awareness program
a "farce."
The EPA is now reviewing
CCA to determine if it will be reregistered as a pesticide. As part of
the review, the agency is pulling out incident reports and catching up
on the latest research about CCA.
It also is considering,
again, whether to make the information sheets mandatory.
Root of illness
missed
When James Sipes,
the Indiana man who got sick making picnic tables, first started feeling
bad, his doctor told him he had sinusitis.
The next day he
vomited several pints of blood. The emergency room doctor told him to
go on a mild diet and take Tagamet, an over-the-counter heartburn drug.
"He said, 'Just
go home and you'll get over it,' " Sipes said.
It took Sipes months
to recover. A year later, he started sawing CCA-treated wood again to
make more picnic tables. After three weeks in the workshop, he vomited
blood again.
This time, Sipes
diagnosed himself. He realized it might be the wood. He found out from
his boss that the wood had chromium, copper and arsenic in it, then had
his hair and nails tested. Sure enough, the tests showed high levels of
arsenic.
What happened to
Sipes is no surprise to people who track the effects of pesticides and
toxic hazards in the workplace.
Most people don't
consider whether a chemical might be at the root of their sickness, said
Ken Halperin, an injury prevention manager with CPWR – Center for Construction Research and Training, an arm of the AFL-CIO labor union.
And neither do doctors,
he said.
They "never
think to ask what chemicals you worked with," Halperin said. "They're
not trained that way."
Halperin said he
is convinced pressure-treated wood is a health threat for carpenters and
construction workers - a still-hidden danger like asbestos was for maintenance
workers.
Croft, the Wisconsin
toxicologist, said the Wisconsin family sought medical attention from
more than 60 doctors before he found a link to the wood they were burning.
Only a handful of
states require doctors who suspect pesticide exposure to report those
cases to a tracking system.
And in some of those
states, compliance rates are pitifully low. Florida health officials say
few doctors follow the reporting rules here.
The EPA tracking
system relies on the pesticide maker. If the company gets a call about
an exposure incident, it's supposed to file a report.
No call, no report.
Forced to settle
Rick Feutz's recovery
has been long and slow.
He still tires easily.
His memory is spotty. He can't always close his mouth when he chews.
On the bright side,
he said, he has learned to drink from a soda can again: "I use my
tongue as a bottom lip."
Feutz sued the lumber
store, the wood treater and the CCA makers. In the end, he settled.
The amount could
not be disclosed because of a confidentiality agreement, but Feutz's attorney
said it was "substantial."
Feutz said he feels
guilty about settling. He said a trial would have raised awareness about
CCA. He said it might have kept other people from getting hurt like he
did.
But medical bills
were mounting. He had a wife and three young children to think about.
At Lowe's in Gainesville
last week, Byron Bush and two other construction workers were loading
slats of CCA lumber into a pickup truck. They planned to saw them up at
a construction site. They do it all the time.
"I never heard
of a problem with it," Bush said. His coworkers shook their heads,
too.
A few miles away,
Saccocci, the carpenter, tore through planks of pressure-treated wood
with a circular saw.
No gloves. No dust
mask. Just like most people do it.
"You asked
me if we get sawdust on us," Saccocci said, smiling.
The blade whined.
The wood gave. A cloud of sawdust poured from the side of the saw.
In a few minutes,
sawdust was everywhere.
Ron Matus can be
reached at (352) 374-5087 or ron.matus@gainesvillesun.com.
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