Radioactive Reese Sparks Criticism in Otherwise Laudable Series

To the Editor:

Bay Soundings should be commended for undertaking the monumental task of explaining what phosphate is, why and how it is mined and processed in Florida and related issues in its Summer/Fall 2005 series.

While many readers likely donât know much about phosphate in Florida, they undoubtedly have a lot of questions and concerns.

More eyes are focused on Floridaâs phosphate industry as phosphate companies have tried to obtain permits for new mines in Manatee, DeSoto and Hardee counties. Public concerns about miningâs impact on the environment, the flow of the Peace River and its tributaries, and the health of estuaries such as Charlotte Harbor have been aired in the media, county commission meetings and the courts.

There has also been heightened concern about acidic water spilling into the environment from ponds on top of phosphogypsum stacks in the wake of one bankrupt company walking away from three stacks and another suffering a breach during the 2004 hurricanes.

Then there are questions about what happens to the land after mining. Some think phosphate companies walk away. Others think reclamation efforts are poor. Few understand that reclamation is mandatory, regulated and has varied goals including providing developable land for agriculture and habitat.

At the Florida Institute of Phosphate Research (FIPR) we conduct research pertaining to these and other public, environmental and technological phosphate issues. Floridaâs legislature created FIPR in 1978 to generate peer-reviewed science that leads to technological advances and provides data to help answer questions and make decisions.

The broad range of viewpoints presented in this series reflects what we hear at the technical advisory tables that help guide our research.

Our one criticism is with a comment Tom Reese, a Florida environmental lawyer, made in the first part of the series. He said that calling phosphogypsum ãslightly radioactiveä is like calling a woman who is seven months pregnant ãslightly pregnant.ä

In fact, everything is radioactive to some degree, but a woman is either pregnant or not.

We are all walking, talking radioactive beings. An average 155 pound person has about 0.000000000003 curies per gram (Ci/g) of all natural radioactivity in his or her body. Compare that to the 0.000000000026 Ci/g. average level of radium-226 that is in Central Florida phosphogypsum. Neither humans nor phosphogypsum are highly radioactive.

We invite anyone wanting more facts or to explore phosphate in nature, Florida and the world to visit FIPR and/or the Institute web page ö www.fipr.state.fl.us.

Paul R. Clifford, Ph.D.
Executive Director
Florida Institute of Phosphate Research

Remembering Rich Paul

Unlike many bay activists, I didnât know Rich Paul for very long. But our budding friendship, arising out of a series of email exchanges over the course of the last year, gave me a glimpse of the best of a great man and an even greater couple. When Rich retired as manager of Audubonâs Coastal Island Sanctuaries after a remarkable career spanning 31 years, his talented wife, Ann, took the helm.

The two formed bookends to a repository of knowledge and technique for bird and habitat conservation in Tampa Bay, both having a particular knack for rallying the community behind protection of the bayâs bird colonies. I first met Rich through Ann and Tampa Bay Watch as a volunteer in the yearly monofilament cleanups of nesting islands in the Bay. I was assigned Coffee Pot Bayou Bird Island in St. Petersburg.

While on the island I snapped a picture of a mystery bird and recalled an email address I had gotten for a heron and egret expert named Rich Paul. Turns out my mystery bird, identified by Rich, was an eight-week-old reddish egret fledge who had survived the 2004 hurricane season. Rich and I quickly became email pals and I discovered that my find was one of his very favorite birds. In fact, he was one of the worldâs foremost authorities on the reddish egret, an endangered species with only 400 nesting pairs currently documented in the state of Florida.

Soon after our first exchange, Rich was diagnosed with stomach cancer. When surgery and chemo treatments forced him to stay at home rather than spend time in the field with his beloved birds, he settled into a new role as internet educator, graciously responding to my frequent email broadcasts with information that gave me a deeper appreciation and knowledge of the birds I wanted so desperately to protect.

I work from home and spend hours each day on the computer. For me, those conversations with Rich were a precious exchange. Iâd send pictures along with quirky musings about what I enjoyed most about natural Florida. Heâd respond by identifying birds and providing tips on being an effective conservation activist, and toss in his own backyard bird sightings ö his yard providing his only window on nature for large parts of his illness. Rich would relay that the backyard vocals of a resident brown thrasher were particularly lovely one day, or marvel about the grace of a Coopers hawk on the hunt, crashing through the yard in all its glory and fury.

Some days, heâd admit to not feeling too well, and share something Ann had done to make him feel a bit more at ease. True to his nature, he comforted the rest of us while he was ill. He looked forward to enjoying a beer when he ãgot betterä and to start recording his field trips with a new digital camera. Sadly, that never happened. What did happen, however, revealed much about the character of this remarkable man ö he used every last moment to enjoy and spread joy to the world around him. Rich is a treasure lost, but Ann remains, and the two are one. My New Yearâs wish is that we honor Rich and Ann by getting out in the field and volunteering to protect and conserve the magnificent birds and bird islands of Tampa Bay.

Lorraine Margeson

A conservation activist and amateur nature photographer who regularly shares news of her own backyard sightings and local nature expeditions, St. Petersburg resident Lorraine Margeson is president of Donlo Communications, Inc.