If Only We Knew Then

Our friends Nancy and Peter in Colorado Springs recently had a problem. The manufacturer of their refrigerator had thoughtfully saved himself a few dollars by using a plastic tube to connect their ice maker to the water tap. Over time the plastic did what plastic does. It got brittle and leaked. For most of us (including Sid and me), the leak from these plastic tubes produces a drip in the basement and the weary realization that the plastic must be replaced with the copper it should have always had.

For Nancy and Peter, however, the result was not only catastrophic but life-threatening. The leak from their ice maker was a flood rather than a drip. It soaked the floor in their kitchen and living room, ruined the carpet, and inched up their cabinets and walls. The worst though was when the inspectors came to see what needed to be done. They made that most dire of discoveries. The house contained asbestos. All of a sudden, a repair became a job for the hazardous material squad who sealed off the house. Nancy and Peter had no access to their house for weeks and have spent their time living in their RV on their driveway.

Asbestos was a common building material when the house was built. It was great to put in floors to contain a fire in the basement from reaching upper levels or catching the roof on fire. The trouble was its effect on human lungs, which no one knew at the time. It was like the other things whose dangers came to light long after an entire generation had been exposed. My mother, for example, had an ironing board cover that I think had asbestos in it. We were probably safe since she never had any reason to cut the fabric to fit anything. But we had no idea there might have been a problem.

Then there was DDT, the miracle pesticide that was used freely to kill insects. Unfortunately, as we learned from Rachel Carson, it killed off nearly everything else as well. I shudder when I remember the spray cans with the plunger attached to one end. And the dry cleaning fluids that are now banned. And the insecticide bombs that we used in Hawaii to try to control the roaches. And the harmful effects of using lead in paint. And the formaldehyde that we now learn is used in the production of RVs—our new RV has block letters saying that it is not designed for full time living. We thought it meant that the appliances would wear out. Now I guess it means that fumes might make us ill. Our RV has now become a toy that we are supposed to use sparingly with all the windows open.

Of course, all these now-seen ills were meant to provide some good. I have particular memories of the old shoe-fitting fluoroscopes. Anyone who was alive in the forties and fifties will remember them. They looked like a box with viewing portals. You inserted your feet into the opening at the lower part of the box and could look down onto the skeleton of the foot and the outline of the shoe. It was meant to show a parent whether a child’s shoe fit properly. We kids loved them. I liked to look at my feet and wiggle my toes. What I didn’t know and probably wouldn’t have cared about was that I was standing on an x-ray tube. No one seems to have contracted bone cancer in the foot from them, but since it turned out that they were leaking radiation, the salesclerks apparently had far more exposure than was healthy. They were banned in the US in the 1950s but continued to be used in Europe. I guess Europeans were less worried or have tougher feet.

I suppose there will always be a perfect hind-sight when it comes to harmful things. Thirty years ago, cigarette smoking was more acceptable and less understood. We are now starting to understand the effect of additives, antibiotics, and steroids in our food—heaven only knows what lurks in our bodies courtesy of unseen things in our food supply. Most recently, we have learned that those pretty plastic bottles may be leaching carcinogens into whatever is put in them. Given this, it seems to me that the challenge is how to deal quickly with what we learn. The unfortunate part is that our manufacturers usually hire lobbyists and lawyers to dispute the findings rather than adjust their processes in the interests of public health.

Somebody owes Nancy and Peter and their insurance agency a huge apology. It has cost $63,000 so far (still counting) to restore them to their home. Undoubtedly their insurance rates will rise and maybe they will even have to find another carrier (such being the way of the world). All so the manufacturer could save a few dollars’ worth of copper tube.

It’s enough to make those of us with radiated feet cry out for mercy.