On the eve of the Disco Era, romantics swooned over Jenny and
Oliver. The hearts of ladies went to
mush as they watched Ryan O’Neal. Men
didn’t fare much better when Ali MacGraw wrapped her arms around O’Neal in
Hollywood’s 1970 smash hit Love Story.
How do I
know?
I was a
22-year-old who thought Ali was one of the most gorgeous women on the
globe. And why—48 years later—would I
bring up Love Story when what I really
want to talk about is Hurricane Florence?
There’s an
immortal line in the movie. Millions can
recite those eight words, but I’m going to save it for later. Bear with me for a few minutes.
During
Florence’s wrath, I lost touch with two friends—a husband and wife—who had
their toes-in-the-sand retirement bliss assaulted by winds, waves and horrific
amounts of water. Eddie and Carolyn live
between Myrtle Beach and Wilmington.
They might as well have had a bull’s-eye painted on their chests, but I
got this miraculous email: “We survived!”
My friends
are among the fortunate. Florence was
predicted to be a killer. She did just
that, and flooding continues to add to the nightmare. We grieve for those whose
loved ones died.
Another
prediction proved true, too. The
environment was also a casualty of this brutal storm. For a long time, the warning siren has
blared: “Don’t put toxic-waste storage facilities in hurricane zones and near water. “
What happened at Duke Energy’s Sutton
plant in Wilmington could have been avoided.
The 2,000 cubic yards of toxic coal ash didn’t have to pollute the
surrounding environment, but it did.
Other coal-ash ponds could rupture, too.
Why?
Corporate decision-makers,
such as those at Duke, figure they are smarter than Mother Nature. Florence proved them wrong. They put us at risk by locating poison pits
near precious water. Hurricanes will continue coming. Houses can be rebuilt. Debris can be cleaned up. Dangerous toxins are a different matter. They sink in and stay.
But get
this.
Duke has now released a fear-not
statement: “Coal ash is non-hazardous.” It believes there’s no risk to the
environment or our health. To that
denial-laden response, I’d ask, “How much lead, beryllium, arsenic, mercury and
other poisonous heavy metals do you want stirred into your sweet tea?”
Eventually Duke will probably
say, “We’re sorry.” A slap on the wrist
will likely follow, while we wait for the next time. And other hurricanes will happen again and again.
Meanwhile, coal-burning
utilities will argue, “We are doing what we can to provide the cheapest
possible electricity for our consumers.” That sounds good until you consider
the Fram oil filer slogan: “Pay me now or
pay me later.” Florence is proof we
will be paying later—as in forever—for the harm to our natural resources.
Now back to Love Story.
If you
listen to the feel-good messages of producers of toxic coal-ash, you’d think
they really do “love” us. But if that
were so, they would consider the consequences of taking the nature-be-damned
cheap routes which ultimately damage our health.
No doubt,
there will be plenty of “I’m sorry” apologies.
But as Oliver repeated Jenny’s words to his forgiveness-seeking father, “Love means never having to say you’re
sorry.”
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com
