Wednesday, December 10, 2003
OPINION
Army fails to meet notification protocol
By Karen Spears
Zacharias
zach@uci.net
OK. Gimme a big Y-A-W-N.
The officials at the Umatilla Chemical Depot did it again. They failed to
follow proper protocol in notifying the local emergency officials about a
recent incident at the depot.
Perhaps you missed it. That’s OK. I suspect that’s exactly the reaction
the Army was hoping for when it delayed notifying local police, emergency
managers and county officials that an intruder was sighted wandering around
K-block at 12:30 a.m. Dec. 3.
Oh, sure, they issued a press release and sent it out via e-mail
and/or fax — some 14 hours after the event.
Chris Brown, state manager for the Chemical Stockpile Emergency
Preparedness Program, said the fax didn’t reach his office until after 2:30
p.m.
The Army has earned a bad rap in the past for failure to notify
the community. Remember that incident back in 1999 when dozens of workers
keeled over vomiting and suffering severe headaches? Although the Army notified
emergency personnel within 90 minutes, it took them five days to hold a press
conference to address the subject.
Then there was that sarin incident in 2002 when an employee stuck
a vial of highly diluted sarin in his coat pocket and, opps, traveled across
the Columbia River? Officials at the Oregon Department of Environmental Quality,
who also are responsible for protecting the public, didn’t get word of the
event until 15 hours later.
And that doesn’t even count the numerous times during planned emergency
exercises that the Army has failed to notify one emergency team after another.
If the Army can’t remember to notify the surrounding community during a planned
emergency drill, I suppose it’s a bit much to ask them to consider us, the
public, during real emergencies.
Yet, that’s exactly what they agreed to do when they entered into
a memorandum of understanding with local state and county emergency officials
in 2001. That document states that whenever incidents such as intruders are
caught wandering around K-block, where thousands of tons of lethal evils are
stored, the Army will place a phone call to the local emergency agencies.
That phone call is then to be followed up with press releases via fax, e-mail,
etc.
Such incidents shouldn’t involve any beard-scratching. The plan
is in place. All the Army needs to do is follow it.
That didn’t happen last week. And some folks are a tad troubled
by it. Rightly so, I say.
“I have some concerns that there appeared to be a delay in notification
to the outpost community,” Chris Brown said.
Oregon State Police were notified one hour after the intruder was
sighted.
“We responded after the fact and our only description was a male,
nothing further. A search outside the perimeter was unsuccessful,” Lt. Darin
Helman said.
That brings up another interesting problem with the Army’s notification
process. The press release issued by the Army’s public information officer,
Mary Binder, stated: “The individual did not pose a threat to the nerve agent
stockpile. At no time was there danger to the public or the environment.”
Now all you veteran news consumers know that a press release contains
a heaping amount of “spin” (i.e., caca) along with an adequate measure of
fact (evidentiary truth). The real trick for journalists and news consumers
alike is to tread lightly over the caca while in search of the truth. Because
I’m a bored housewife and an award-winning journalist with nothing better
to do, I thought I’d try my hand at decoding all this for you.
I started by asking a bunch of experts some pretty simple questions.
I called up police and emergency management folks and county commissioners
and the like. I even sent a note to Mary Binder, although, she never did reply.
“If it’s pitch dark outside how is it the Army is able to determine
that the ‘unknown individual’ (i.e., intruder) did not pose a threat to the
nerve agent stockpiles?” I asked.
I didn’t find one expert who could answer that question, but they
all said it was a “good question.”
I had some more good questions. (That’s how come I’ve won all those
highfalutin’ awards tucked away in that cardboard box in my garage).
“How does the Army know that this ‘unknown individual’ was a male?”
Shoot, with all those cross-dressers roaming the world and men trapped in
women’s bodies and women trapped in men’s bodies, sometimes I need a mirror
to confirm my own gender.
Nobody knew the answer to that question either.
“And how did the Army know this person was acting alone? Maybe they
had accomplices helping them get off and on the depot,” I suggested.
And one more thing, would somebody please tell me, how does the
Army know for sure this incident didn’t pose a threat to the public? I mean
folks don’t just get up in the middle of the night and decide to take a stroll
around bunkers filled with sarin, VX and mustard gas just to catch a glimpse
of the Milky Way.
You’ve gotta give Binder credit. She sure speaks with a lot more
conviction than fact.
Here’s the truth: Nobody knows for sure what the gender of the intruder
was. Or whether this intruder was armed or unarmed. Or whether this intruder
posed a risk or not. Or whether this intruder was an intruder at all. Maybe
it was a disgruntled employee trying to raise someone’s hackles. (That’s an
example of caca, not fact).
If you’d like help sorting out the rest of the facts, I suggest
you attend the next meeting of the Chemical Demilitarization Citizens Advisory
Commission. It’s being held at 7 p.m. Dec. 18, Room 1, at Hermiston’s Good
Shepherd Health Care System.
Or you could just roll over and go back to sleep and pray the Lord
your soul to keep.
