Former Largo GE workers and survivors whose claims had languished welcome a new federal effort at amends.
By WILL VAN SANT, Times Staff Writer
Published August 30, 2005
SEMINOLE - Mike Holloway arrived home to his wife and children one night wearing a disposable jumpsuit instead of his standard shirt and tie.
That day, the scientist had handled a radioactive film used in triggering devices for nuclear bombs. Usually when the films were broken for analysis they split cleanly, leaving a jagged edge. But the one Holloway handled was brittle, releasing a puff of powder infused with radioactive tritium.
Holloway accidentally inhaled the powder, according to written statements by colleagues at the General Electric plant in Largo.
When he arrived at their Seminole home that day in 1978 or 1979, Sandra Holloway remembers being alarmed at her husband's outfit.
He told her not to worry, he was fine.
In early 1980, Holloway - a health-conscious guy who ran 3 to 5 miles a day - noticed a lesion on the roof of his mouth. After testing, doctors revealed a shocking diagnosis: He had a rare leukemia. Despite vigorous treatment, Holloway died in January 1981 at age 40. His son was 12, his daughter 14.
The Cold War had not yet ended. Plants like General Electric's pumped out weaponry for the Department of Energy. Workers took pride in what they were doing for America.
Though far from any battlefield, some, like Holloway, may have sacrificed all.
"People gave everything to that company," Sandra Holloway said in a recent interview. "And, in the end, I believe, he gave his life for what he thought was a good thing."
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Congress created a program in 2000 to help remedy the weapons industry's legacy of illness and death. Since that time, 1,020 former employees of the General Electric plant in Largo or their survivors have filed compensation claims.
Before 2000, options were few. Workers sought compensation through state programs and the courts, with spotty success.
The federal program, though, has hardly been a windfall. Of the claims filed by former workers at the General Electric plant and their families, nine have been approved and about $1-million has been paid. Payment amounts on two other cleared claims are being determined.
According to those who manage the program, efforts to process claims stalled when the job was handled by the Department of Energy. In October, Congress handed the task over to the Department of Labor as a way to rescue what had become a hobbled effort.
Congress also broadened the program's scope. Now, not only those who were harmed by radioactive material are eligible, but those whose illnesses can be linked to other workplace toxins can get benefits as well.
Labor officials are touring the country to tout the changes, making stops near former Department of Energy sites like the Largo plant, which at its height employed 2,000 workers. The plant went through a phased shutdown in the mid 1990s as demand for nuclear weaponry fell.
They brought their message to the Radisson Hotel and Conference Center in Pinellas Park last week and met with about 200 frustrated former plant workers and their loved ones.
Presenters cautioned that eligibility standards for the revamped program are still in development, and said their job is made harder because critical industry documents have been lost or destroyed.
Still, they promised a renewed effort to investigate and settle claims.
"There were a lot of workers who were exposed to some pretty nasty stuff," program administrator John Vance told them. "We are moving as quickly as we can to make as many decisions as we can."
* * *
Federal officials say they are not ready to make public a full inventory of what toxins were present at the Largo plant, but acknowledge that weapons manufacturing sites were home to a range of deadly chemicals whose hazards were not recognized until years later.
In addition to radioactive materials, workers at the Largo plant can recall the presence of asbestos, benzene, beryllium and other toxins.
Many did not know what they were getting into. When he started as a janitor at General Electric, Dave Bossard thought the plant made toaster ovens. But it was a place where good employees moved up, and Bossard eventually found himself working on weapons components.
Bossard spent 34 years with General Electric. He is now president of the Quarter Century Club, whose members worked at the plant for 25 years or more. Bossard has seen countless colleagues fall ill and die from diseases he thinks can be traced to the work they did for General Electric.
"I have seen a lot of people that have suffered, that have died, friends of mine," said Bossard, who remains healthy at age 63. "It's very, very sad."
Bossard is happy that those with illnesses caused by nonradioactive toxins are now eligible for benefits. He just wishes the federal government had acted sooner, before so many passed away. Despite that regret, he views the Labor Department's new initiative as a good sign.
"Now I have hope," he said. "Now it means that they are trying to make amends."
* * *
When Sandra Holloway was left a widow, she found full-time work and set about raising her two children. She would eventually go on to own a picture framing shop in St. Petersburg. Holloway, 63, retired three years ago.
In 2001, a former colleague of her husband's told her about the program created by the federal government. She quickly filed a claim seeking survivor benefits.
It took the Department of Energy almost a year to even acknowledge that Mike Holloway had worked at General Electric - even though he worked there for 16 years before his death. To date, no decision has been made on Sandra Holloway's claim.
"I would talk to people who knew nothing," she said of her frequent calls to officials. "Nothing. It seemed like it was people they had hired off the street."
The plant kept detailed records of accidents and visits to the on-site medical clinic. As part of the claims process, the Department of Energy compiled these forms on Mike Holloway.
According to Sandra, a record was made each time her husband sneezed, but government officials have told her they can't locate anything from the years 1978 and 1979, the period during which her husband was exposed to tritium, a radioactive isotope of hydrogen and a component in the triggering mechanism of nuclear weapons.
Deborah Maroney, who worked at the plant, was part of the team that inventoried 40 years of records and supervised their transfer. Getting the records out quickly as the plant closed was a major concern, she said.
According to co-workers, Mike Holloway tested positive for contamination the day of his exposure. Those test results, as well as an incident report, were most certainly recorded, Maroney said.
By federal statute, they must be archived for at least 75 years.
"Something is not right about that," the 57-year-old Maroney said of the apparent gap in Mike Holloway's records. "To say they are missing or destroyed is a cop-out."
They may reside in a government records depository, she said, but in the compensation program created by Congress, the government has not assumed ultimate responsibility for investigating claims. The burden of proof falls on victims and survivors.
* * *
Sandra Holloway doubts how serious the Department of Labor is about the overhaul of its program. But she recently got some good news. Her husband's case has been turned over to a health physicist, an expert on radiation science, for review.
As the surviving spouse of a man whose death may be linked to his work at a Department of Energy weapons plant, Holloway is eligible for a settlement of between $125,000 to $175,000.
Holloway is uncomfortable even discussing those figures. It's too much like putting a price on a man's life.
"The money, that's a hollow victory, really," she said. "It's about recognition that the government put people in such grave danger and ruined so many lives."
