More than 100 residents poured in to the McCullom Lake Village Hall this week after a crushing development in a court case that many had hoped would resolve once and for all whether a nearby chemical plant had polluted the water and air, causing dozens of their friends and neighbors to develop brain tumors.
In all, 32 separate claims were filed against the chemical company. But recently, a judge in a Philadelphia courtroom abruptly halted the first of the cases to go to trial and sent the jury home, reserving harsh words for the expert witness whose report had tried to show the cancers were somehow linked.
Margaret Boyer, a longtime resident of the tiny McHenry County community, voiced the fears of many when she said, "We'll never find out how this story ends."
Some who gathered Wednesday night tried to channel their disappointment as they discussed the offer by the Philadelphia-based chemical company, Rohm and Haas, to pay $100,000 to have more than 300 wells tested and evaluated beginning next month. Although wary of the company's intentions, many admitted they were desperate. If they couldn't get an answer in court, maybe the independent testing of their wells could provide one.
"The residents are all in fear," said Terry Counley, the village president. "We have this black cloud over the village. Between the economy and the brain cancer, it's very hard to sell a house here."
Even if a buyer comes forward, it doesn't guarantee a sale. About a month ago, an appraiser attached a newspaper story about the possible cancer cluster with the appraisal report to the bank, and the financing fell though, Counley said. It wasn't the first time.
The shock waves from the legal setback in Philadelphia continue to ripple through McCullom Lake, where some residents wonder if a forgetful moment or a twitching leg will end with a diagnosis of brain cancer.
Of the claims of those who lived or worked around McCullom Lake, 18 contracted malignant brain tumors, 13 contracted benign brain tumors and one developed liver problems, documents show.
The judge who stopped the trial last month said he will soon either declare a mistrial or rule in favor of Rohm and Haas. The case involved a widow suing on her husband's behalf after he and his two next-door neighbors were all diagnosed with rare forms of malignant brain cancer within a year of each other.
The suit alleges that the company spilled, leaked and dumped highly toxic chemicals into the soil and groundwater for more than five decades.
But some McCullom Lake residents who remain healthy after years of living in the community say they don't believe cancer-causing chemicals invaded their village. They are sympathetic but say they just haven't seen the evidence. Others have resigned themselves to the possibility.
"(I'm) up there in age, and if brain cancer doesn't get (me), something else will," said 76-year-old Eireen Rybak, who has lived for more than two decades in the same house overlooking the lake.
"It would be a comfort to know either way," Rybak acknowledged.
McCullom Lake, population 1,200, has one restaurant (All Sports Bar & Grill) and six main streets. It's overwhelmingly white and blue collar. Neighbors know each other and let their kids play together on the park's green plastic alligator and grassy field.
The glistening, 245-acre McCullom Lake is the crown jewel of the town originally meant as a vacation destination for Chicagoans looking for a close getaway.
Dave Post, a retired truck driver, has lived in the village for 22 years. Like others, he worries he can't sell his house.
Post, 52, followed the trial in hope of finding out if there truly is a higher risk of contracting cancer in the village where he raised his two daughters.
"My neighbor two doors down died of the small brain cancer," he said.
On a recent afternoon, he stood in his backyard, his eyes squinting in the sun as he struggled to remember the name of a movie.
"Yeah, 'Erin Brockovich.' This is kind of like that," he said triumphantly of the film, based on a true story about a legal secretary who exposed a utility company that contaminated the water of a small California town.
Rohm and Haas officials insist their plant in nearby Ringwood hasn't tainted the water. An 8.2-acre chemical waste pit was in use on the site from 1959 to 1977, but it has since been closed.
The lawsuit alleges that vinyl chloride seeped into the water supply and caused the tumors. Although the company acknowledges the presence of an underground contamination plume, it asserts it has not reached private or public water supplies. Officials have previously said vinyl chloride has not been detected in the drinking water.
Rohm and Haas, a subsidiary of Dow Chemical Co., has been working with the Illinois Environmental Protection Agency to clean up toxic chemicals on the site since 1991, and a 2009 letter from the state EPA states that "no potable water supply wells are currently at risk from the groundwater contamination."
In stating there was no connection between cancers and their plant, Rohm and Haas has previously cited reports from the McHenry County Health Department, the Illinois Department of Public Health, and the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
But attorneys for the residents took issue with the findings. The judge in the case had ruled the McHenry County Health Department report -- which stated that an environmental analysis didn't support evidence of a cancer cluster -- and statements from a handful of other public agencies were inadmissible because they looked at the larger population instead of the McCullom Lake subset.
Citing a gag order by the judge, a spokeswoman for Rohm and Haas declined comment.
Although the residents' attorney, Aaron Freiwald, said he couldn't discuss specifics of the case, he argued that there was "no doubt based on the facts that there is a brain cancer cluster in McCullom Lake."
During the hearing last month, the judge had called the expert testimony by Richard Neugebauer, the Columbia University scientist hired by the plaintiffs, "tantamount to being fraudulent," according to court transcripts. Neugebauer had made a number of changes to his report alleging the existence of a cancer cluster.
The modifications were so egregious, the judge said, he couldn't allow him to continue his testimony. Neugebauer described it as "a misunderstanding" and said the changes didn't affect the validity of his report.
The trial's sudden conclusion didn't shake Sandy Wierschke's conviction that the water and air caused her glioblastoma, a rare form of brain cancer. She and her husband, Tim, had made the grueling drive to Philadelphia for opening statements.
"They must think we're idiots, that people are going to believe that it's a coincidence," said Tim Wierschke, 61, who owns a bowling pro shop in Crystal Lake. "This many brain cancers in this little community."
Every few minutes, Sandy Wierschke, 48, adjusts her crooked glasses. The right temple had to be removed when it would no longer fit over the lump that starts in the middle of her head and juts all the way down to her ear. Her
life is reflected in two cardboard boxes in her living room -- one filled with old bowling trophies and the other with empty pill bottles. She is eager for her day in court.
"They just have to admit that they did wrong," she said.
Her daughter, Stephanie, has put off going to college so she can help take care of her mother.
At 22, she has her mother's blue eyes, the same blond locks. And since her mother's cancer diagnosis, she can't bear to imagine a life without her.
Her eyes fill with tears before she gets a single word out.
"I try to have a positive attitude about it, but after four years, it's kind of hard to stay positive," she says.
She worries that her mother won't be around for her wedding or for the birth of her children.
By now, she's sobbing, gasping for air between words.
"Mostly, I'm scared that she's not going to be around in the future, to see me grow up," she said.
Tribune correspondent Terry Ganey contributed to this report.
No comments:
Post a Comment