lifestyles
Abating asbestos
Making sure the University of Kansas is safe from hazardous materials is a full-time job.
By Jake Arnold
The size of asbestos fibers compared to a thumb and forefinger. If inhaled, the fibers can scar the lungs and cause cancer.
You can't see it. You can't taste it.
You wouldn't know it if you touched it.
But it has the capability of killing you.
Never fear, though. The KU.
Never fear, though. The KU
Never tear, through the KC
Abesston Abatement Team is here to protect you.
The team is a full-time four-man crew and a man on loan from the steam shop whose sole function is to deal with the asbestos threat on campus.
Dale Fox, physical plant supervisor in charge of the crew, gives each new campus employee a two-hour course on how to recognize asbestos and what to do if a potential problem arises.
Fox instructs employees to immediately call his office and then fill out a hazardous situation form.
Employees are instructed to leave the asbestos alone and not to try to clean it up themselves.
Asbestos is a natural mineral that has been used throughout history for its beneficial characteristics. It is abundant, cheap, fire-proof, acid-proof, makes good insulation and is nearly indestructible. And it's deadly.
it's deadly. In the 1930s, asbestos became one of the most popular construction materials in the United States. It was used for insulation, sound-proofing and even for decoration. But by the late 1970s its hazardous properties were discovered
Asbestos is classified in two categories: friable and nonfriable. Friable asbestos can break down into microscopic fibers. Though the fibers are
doesn't surprise him.
"It takes 20 years to show up," he said. "Dangerous exposure to asbestos happens more often to people who don't know it. These guys know what asbestos is. They are protected. A local mechanic has more exclosure than our abatement guys."
Mechanics face asbestos unwittingly because asbestos is an effective and cheap component in brakes.
not externally harmful, if taken internally through breathing or ingestion—they cannot be removed naturally.
In 1979, the U.S. government banned the use of asbestos in new construction. However, it is estimated that half of all multiistory buildings in the United States still contain asbestos in some form.
That is where Fox's team comes in.
That is where Fox's team comes in. Fox said removing all asbestos on campus would cost about $250 million plus the cost of replacing all the materials.
"Asbestos is not a hazardous material. It is a hazardous breathing material."
"Asbestos is not a hazardous material," Fox said. "It is a hazardous breathing material."
Apart from cancer, the main health danger is asbestosis. Asbestosis is a scarring of the tissue of the lungs that restricts oxygen flow and breathing. The scarring results from the asbestos fibers cutting through healthy cells in the lining of the lungs. When the cells reform, scar tissue remains that can cause stiffness in the lungs and reduced breathing capacity.
Charles Yockey, chief of staff at Watkins Memorial Health Center, administers the yearly breathing test and X-rays to the crew. No member of the crew has failed a test since Yockey has been there, but that
Instead, Fox's team removes asbestos when it must, repairs problems where it can and checks up on all past jobs every six months. Before any remodeling is done on campus, the team tests for the presence of asbestos and removes it if necessary.
In most forms on campus, asbestos is completely harmless. It is in fire doors in
Dale Fox Physical plant supervisor
Wescow, tables in Malott and floor tiles in Carruth O'Leary. As long as it is solid, it is harmless. However, if the object is breached, Fox and his team swing into action.
For small jobs, they use what is called a "glove bag" to keep the fibers from escaping into the air.
For larger jobs, they build a temporary containment area. Using air pumps with special filters, they make sure none of the particles escape. Workers wear protective suits and respirators while in
"Because of all the precautions, it is one of the most sterile working conditions of any job up here," he said.
the area. Before leaving the area, they must strip off the suits and take a shower with the respirator still on. Water takes the fibers out of the air and off their bodies.
Any material removed from the area is painted — by EPA regulations — to seal the fibers and further sealed away in special plastic bags or large air-tight dumpsters. it then is taken to the landfill, where the Environmental Protection Agency requires it be buried within 24 hours and recorded.
Because asbestos abatement workers must wear respirators, the job is considered hazardous work. Despite the potential danger, team members such as Chuck McManness are not worried.
Stages in asbestos abatement, as shown in the basement of the old Post Office, 645 New Hampshire St. Top: Original damage of the asbestos is shown. Center: After removing the light fixture, the asbestos team scrapes the potentially dangerous asbestos from the walls and pipes. Bottom: The finished basement, repainted and no longer hazardous.
Photos courtesy of Dale Fox
It's a kid's world for Mr. Rogers
By Randall Hackley Associated Press Writer
"People say to my wife, What's he like?" said Rogers, the star of public television's longest-running children's show, in the honeyed tones that have reassured generations of kids. "What you see is what you get. It's just who I happen to be."
NEW YORK — What do you expect? A closet tyrant? A clone of the craved TV newscaster who goes bonkers on the air in the movie "Network?"
What you see with PBS' Mister Rogers is pretty much what you get.
What Rogers is is the mild-mannered heart of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," a fixture since 1968 for preschoolers glued to the tube for their daily fix of educational television.
Not Fred Rogers.
The show has been an unexpected success since the first day and wildly enduring, too, reaching 8 million households and child care settings a week, according to its producers.
"I think the program's timeless, sort of an evergreen," said David Newell, Rogers' longtime representative and the man who plays Mr. McFeely, the neighbor who runs a speedy delivery service on "Mister Rogers." McFeely is Rogers' middle name.
"Fred knows exactly who he is and what his purpose is," Newell said. "He's kind of like an electronic Dr. Seuss. He has a mission."
The mission?
"He sees himself as a communicator, not as a
performer." Newell said. "Communicating with kids is his passion."
"When he's in New York, he can't walk down the street," Newell said. "A lot of Hispanics come up to him and say, 'You taught me English.' He speaks right to the camera, very slowly, simply but correctly, usually showing something he's talking about."
Do people go ga-ga when they see Mister Rogers in real life?
"They say, 'You are a quiet island in a very hectic day.' It's who I am. I feel the greatest gift we can give to anybody is the gift of our honest self."
But New York is not really Rogers' cup of tea. He has filmed his shows in Pittsburgh for a more than a quarter-century.
Rogers said he was happy to remain true to himself, usually calm and distinctly unstarling.
Rogers recalls visiting Manhattan last year to promote his book and to appear on "Live With Regis and Kathie Lee."
"It was frantic," he said. "I thought, 'Is this the pace that people have to live?'
Rogers readily admits to his faults and short-
comings.
"Of course, I get angry. Of course, I get sad. I have a full range of emotions. I also have a whole morgasbord of ways of dealing with my feelings," he said. "That is what we should give children. Give them ways to express their rage without hurting themselves or somebody else. That's what the world needs."
Every episode of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" starts on a honey note, with Rogers, who
writes the script, walking in and addressing the viewer one-to-one while he dons his trademark sweater.
The original cardigan, by the way, is in the pop culture section of the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, next to Archie Bunker's chair and the first M-A-S-H set.
A talented neighbor might be more like it. Rogers is a one-man show: He writes the scripts, is the show's puppeteer and also composes the musical score—as a music graduate of Rollins College in Florida, he readily confesses he's a musician at heart.
Rogers gets defensive for a moment. "I have really never considered myself a TV star," he said. "I always thought I was a neighbor who just came in for a visit."
"I feel these programs are built the way I'd like to make a composition." he said.
Still, it's a changing world, one that sometimes saddens Roeters.
"If people had told me 25 years ago we would have produced an entire week on divorce, I would have said I don't believe it." he lamented.
He heps he can deliver his message to a wider audience because, he said, "The world doesn't need more graphic demonstrations of people out of control."
With so much televised coverage of awful things in the real world, "What kids need to hear is that horrible, scary news is not going to be part of their lives.
"No preschool child can survive if he or she feels overwhelmed every day."
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
QUESTIONABLE JUDGMENTS
According to a report in the San Francisco Chronicle, the Muslim sect Tehrak-n-Nifaz in Pakistan declared in May that proper Muslims should reject the government's traffic rules and begin driving their cars on the right side of the road. Everyone else in Pakistan drives on the left side. There were so many serious accidents that two weeks later, the sect was forced to rescind the decree.
In November, a man in Jerusalem, suffering from impotency and frustrated with his treatments, injected himself improperly with a serum and suffered a 36-hour erection, requiring hospitalization until the swelling subside. Two days later, in London, accountant Arthur Spears, who was notorious for shunning doctors, died when the cable he had inserted into his urethra to combat a pain resulted in an infection.
Cockpit transcripts of the March crush of the Aeroflot jet in Siberia, released in September, showed
that the pilot's 16-year-old son and 12-year-old daughter were constantly playing with the controls during the flight. One of the last communications
was of the girl, asking, "Daddy, can I turn this?"
An alleged drug courier was arrested near Rigaud, Quebec, in August after his car came apart on the road and police found 700 pounds of hashish stuffed into various places in the trunk. The driver had a flat tire but could not replace it because the spare had been removed to increase the hashish storage space. When the tire went flat, the increased pressure in the trunk broke the car's rear suspension. The hashish he abandoned was worth $5.2 million.
PEOPLE WITH TOO MUCH TIME ON THEIR HANDS
The New York Times reported in October that country-western dancing enthusiast Les Burns of Waxhaw, N.C., had received a patent for an electronic sensor worn on the arms that would alert the dancer that his posture is bad - when he is, according to Burns, leaning hopefully to one side or another.
In August, Harry Finley opened the Museum of Menstruation in the basement of his Hyattsville, Md., home, according to a report in Washington City Paper, and set up displays of 20th-century feminine-hygiene products and advertisements. Finley, who explained his obsession only by saying that he found menstruation interesting, planned a Kotex retrospective for 1995.
In September, Professor Malcolm Wilkins of Glasgow University in Scotland told a conference at Loughborough University in England that vegetarians were cruel to plants. "Plants are sensitive organisms," he said, claiming that some plants emit crackling noises (inaudible to humans) when they need water. Wilkins said he was especially annoyed at vegetarians who don't like animals being killed. "I say to them, 'You are perfectly happy to slice up a tomato or cucumber. Where is your logic?'"
Albert Cohen of Troy, N.Y., was awarded a patent in October for an artificial arm to be attached to desk, floor or wall. It was designed primarily to be struck by sports fans in need of giving someone a high-five when their favorite team enjoys momentum success.