>> NARRATOR: It's explosive,
corrosive, toxic, infectious, radioactive, and just plain
nasty. No one wants this stuff in their
backyard, but to get to anywhere else, it's got to go down your
street. Climb inside the cabs of the
hazmat haulers and into the hot zone of a spill.
Take a seat on the real Con Air. From remote control big rigs to
containers that can really take a beating.
Now, "Dangerous Cargo" on<i> Modern</i> <i>Marvels.</i>
>> NARRATOR: Industrial poisons, radioactive byproducts.
Such things are generally brewed up far from where we live and
work. But on their way to market or a
waste dump, they go right by where we live and work...
in staggering quantities. >> THOMAS I. MOSES: Is hazmat
pervasive? The U. S. Department of
Transportation estimates that there are 800,000 hazmat
shipments daily. So, it's out there.
>> ROBERTS: It's ubiquitous, That's the only way to
characterize it. It's everywhere.
>> NARRATOR: Given the numbers, occasional accidents are
inevitable. But of increasing concern
are not accidents, but the intentional use of
hazmat as a weapon, including the unthinkable weapon:
high-level nuclear waste. >> RICCIO: They're going to be
dragging dirty bombs basically through every major metropolitan
area in the United States. >> NARRATOR: So if you learn
the gritty details of hazmat hauling, would you be reassured
or even more alarmed? Well, if there's one sure thing
in this business, it's that knowledge is safety.
>> ROBERTS: We say, "If you don't know, don't go."
That's a fire service expression, but it also has to
do with hazmat. If you don't know what you're
doing, don't do it. >> NARRATOR: The signs are out
out there, if you know what to look for.
These diamond-shaped warning signs, or placards, tell the
tale. There are nine categories of
hazardous materials, each with an unmistakable symbol, like a
bomb for explosives, flames for combustibles, skull and
crossbones for poisons, the radiating symbol for nuclear
material, and tipped over lab beakers for corrosives.
Here's a trailer that's loaded with a little bit of everything
from low-level radioactive waste to poisonous and infectious
material and large quantities of flammables.
As the trailer doors open, hold your breath.
There's a noxious whiff of pent up vapors from such things as
medical waste. When the freight was loaded, it
was segregated by hazard class, according to strict regulations.
>> CHARLES POTTER: An example would be you would not want a
corrosive liquid loaded next to a poison material.
Should they commingle or get together, you end up with a
poison gas. >> NARRATOR: A last cargo check.
This load is ready for the road, so let's go for a ride.
>> POTTER: Please climb aboard. We're ready to start our hazmat
trip. Hope you're not nervous.
(<i> engine starting</i> ) >> NARRATOR: From a Southern
California terminal, the rig's bound for the east coast,
merging with all the other toxic traffic.
>> POTTER: You can't get on the highway without coming in close
proximity of some type of hazardous load.
>> NARRATOR: This haul's in expert hands.
Charles Potter has logged more than two million miles on big
rigs. He's one of a growing number of
college-educated truckers. And keeping up with the ever-
changing rules and regulations keep him in school.
>> POTTER: They instruct us on the paperwork, on placarding,
labeling, markers. Every two years we go through
and get recertified. >> NARRATOR: And how potentially
dangerous is that witches' brew of chemicals in the back?
>> POTTER: A load like this could very easily spark off a
fire and with all the flammable liquid that's on this trailer...
it'd be a large fire. >> NARRATOR: With so much at
stake, little is left to chance. This rig is equipped with
Qualcomm's Omnitrax tracking system-- a satellite link to
both a central command center and the dispatcher's office.
>> SANDS: This is the antenna communication unit that goes on
the top of the truck. This is the antenna itself,
it's inside the device. And this antenna is constantly
tracking the satellite that allows for two-way messaging and
position location reporting on the truck.
This device here goes inside the cab and this allows the drivar
to both send and receive messages using the keyboard or
preformatted messages. >> NARRATOR: The unit
continuously updates the truck's position with global positioning
information. And it does more than just
deliver a GPS location. >> POTTER: They can tell what
engine speeds the engine's running at, how fast you're
running, whether you've overrevved the engine, how long
you are running down the road. Numerous things.
>> WOLFE: The system actually is connected to the
vehicle data bus. Now, it's very complicated for
saying that trucks are technical now.
All trucks have that same computer system.
Our system actually ties into that, so we can actually notify
dispatch of oil pressure problems, problems that are
going on in the vehicle that you may not even know about through
the idiot lights on the dashboard.
>> NARRATOR: But how do truckers feel about big brother knowing
how fast they're going? >> POTTER: At first I had a
little trouble with it. I wasn't sure that I-I liked it,
that I almost felt like I was handcuffed.
Believe me, once you break down out in the middle of nowhere,
and this Qualcomm is your only source of communication, you
learn to appreciate it. >> NARRATOR: For the real
emergencies, there's a red button on the dash.
>> POTTER: This is our button, our panic button.
It's also tied into the Qualcomm.
Should any type of an emergency arise we can press that button,
an alert will go out to both our company and all law enforcement
agencies in the area. >> NARRATOR: Satellite
tracking's original purpose was to control mobile inventory, as
the nation switched from traditional warehousing to
precise on-time delivery. But with the rise of terrorism,
it's taken on a new role. >> MOSES: Since September 11,
there's been an increased concern with security.
So now we're tracking trucks to make sure that we know whether
they're containing hazardous materials, where the hazmat is
relative to populated places, water supplies, schools, and
that's the importance of tracking hazardous materials
now. >> NARRATOR: If a hazmat
shipment breaches an unauthorized area, operators can
disable the truck by shutting down the fuel supply from a
computer terminal thousands of miles away.
There's also an option to remotely lock trailer doors.
Out of four million long-haul trucks in North America,
about 300,000 carry the Qualcomm system.
Which ones? Look for the white domes on the
top of the cab. >> WOLFE: Actually my kids do
that when we're on vacation is when we're driving is we look
for the white domes, you know, and as you're driving around
America, you will see those white domes on many different
types of vehicles. >> NARRATOR: But even the all-
knowing satellites are no substitute for watchful
truckers, who are more than thes and ears of the road.
>> MOSES: If you have a truck that's someplace, or a truck or
a cargo that's not where it's supposed to be, when it's not
supposed to be there, chances are another driver's going to
see it. >> POTTER: Particularly if
you're hauling munitions or something like that, you're
looking for people that are spending a little too much time
watching you. Or coming up and asking you
questions, which, in the first place, we're not allowed to talk
about. >> NARRATOR: And there's plenty
drivers can't talk about. Tri-State Motor Transit
routinely hauls munitions and other sensitive materials for
the government. Some of their trucks operate in
the highly secret "ghost fleet" which is...
>> POTTER: Just that, a ghost fleet.
It-it's a group of people we have that move things...
that are highly... hush-hush. >> NARRATOR: These classified
movements answer only to their government clients.
Not even trucking officials can track them.
>> KEELIN: We call it the ghost fleet because we do know it's
there, but what it does, we don't know.
>> NARRATOR: There's little mystery to this hazmat load,
as we finally hop off. It's been loaded correctly,
placarded prominently, driven professionally.
(<i> hissing</i> ) >> POTTER: The job is as
dangerous as you allow it to be. As long as you've done
everything you can, you're going to have a safe trip.
>> NARRATOR: Unfortunately, this wasn't always the case.
There was a time when things like nitroglycerin and dynamite
were handled and hauled like so many sacks of concrete...
with predictable results. Hazmat's heavy lifting is done
by rail. A railroad tank car can hold
more than 30,000 gallons, or three times as much as a tanker
truck, making for a toxic ocean on steel wheels.
>> ROBERTS: 'Cause there's 225,000 or more tank cars
operating in the United States. At any given time, maybe a third
to a half of them are out there moving somewhere delivering
products. So it's a very, very big part
of our hazmat economy. >> NARRATOR: How are all these
big tin cans put together? With acres of steel... and
blizzards of welding sparks. Steel up to 1 3/8 inches thick
and 12 feet wide is rolled into a ring.
Long steel fingers called "mandrill arms" expand within
the cylinder to make it perfectly round.
A 12,000-ton cold-forming press-- the world's largest--
punches out the hubcap-shaped tank heads.
Heads are positioned by the 30,000 pound pull of a vacuum
pad, and the whole assembly, or "tub", is fused together by
laser-guided welders. The tub is wrapped in
insulation, then jacketed in a second layer of steel.
The axle assembly is called a "truck".
One final piece of business-- stenciling-- and it's ready to
roll. Today's massively strong tank
cars are a far cry from the way we used to ship dangerous cargo.
>> MARK ALDRICH: There's a famous statement by the chemist
of the Pennsylvania Railroad. "We give more attention to
shipping a carload of horses than we do to a carload of
dynamite." Which, I think, tells you
probably all you want to know. >> NARRATOR: America was blown,
blasted and dynamited into shape in the 19th century.
Black powder won the wars and carved out the right-of-way for
the transcontinental railroad. Nitroglycerin and other high
explosives uncorked the oil wells and rich veins of
coal and iron that made America an industrial superpower.
So, how did we haul this hair-trigger stuff to the blast
zones? Sometimes, believe it or not, in
briefcases aboard passenger trains.
>> ALDRICH: Makers of explosives would send out salesmen and they
would carry samples with them. And the railroads would discover
that someone was in the passenger car with a suitcase
with black powder in it, or with a high explosive.
And they didn't like that. >> NARRATOR: But nothing was
done about it until downtown San Francisco was blown sky-high.
On April 16th, 1866, Samuel Knight, superintendent of the
Wells Fargo shipping office, ducked into a back room.
Where a crate was leaking some sort of oil.
The box was marked only as "Express Freight".
So, Knight directed a workman to open it up with a hammer and
chisel. (<i> explosion</i> )
The oily stuff was nitroglycerin, which can explode
with the slightest shock. 14 people died, including
superintendent Knight. Even in far-off Washington,
D.C., there were repercussions.
Congress soon passed a bill banning explosives from
passenger trains and vessels. Placarding came next.
In 1883, the Pennsylvania Railroad directed that cars
carrying explosives were to display the diamond-shaped
signs. There was just one problem.
>> ALDRICH: Anyone who lives in the country will know that a
stop sign is actually a target. And what the Pennsylvania
Railroad realized was that when they would placard their freight
cars with signs that said explosives, all the boys who
were out target practicing when the train went by would take a
shot at the sign on the car. >> NARRATOR: But stray bullets
were the least of the railroads' worries.
Deadly and costly accidents were common.
Among the worst, a munitions train that blew up in Crestline,
Ohio, in 1903... and in 1905, a runaway dynamite car plowed
into a passenger train in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
All this carnage had to end. So in 1907, the railroads
created a regulatory body called the Bureau of Explosives.
Unlike some special-interest groups, it worked.
>> ALDRICH: There's a big reduction after 1907, so by
the time you get through the 1920s, the dangers of shipping
explosives have really receded. In about 15 years, they've
really solved this problem. >> NARRATOR: But one problem was
succeeded by another. The rise of the chemical and
petrochemical industries in the early 20th century put tons of
explosive liquids on the move. Chief among them, gasoline.
The explosive properties of gas, though ideal for your car
engine, make it dangerous to haul.
On a hot summer day in 1915, in a quiet Oklahoma train yard, a
worker found out how dangerous. >> ALDRICH: He took the lid off
the tank car. Well, that's like opening a beer
bottle that you've shaken up, and it went all over the yard.
And the oil light set off a tank car full of this.
And if you look at a picture of Ardmore, Oklahoma, right after
the blast, it's devastated. >> NARRATOR: What caused the
explosion-- like this refinery fire-- was gasoline's tendency
to expand and build up pressure. Tank cars were crowned with
distinctive domes that provided expansion room for gas.
Later on, shippers found it was more economical to only
partially fill tank cars. The domes were gradually phased
out, giving way to the streamlined cylindrical forms of
today. By the 1960s, tank cars were
safe... but not the tracks below.
>> ALDRICH: And the reason for this is that in the 1960s, the
railroads are deteriorating, and their roadbed is deteriorating,
and their equipment is deteriorating.
So what you begin to see in the 1960s is this system
doesn't work anymore. And it doesn't work because the
railroads can't afford to maintain their road bed.
This recipe for disaster had yet another ingredient-- war.
Munitions bound for Vietnam were rolling over the dilapidated
railroads. There were a number of
accidents, including this one in 1973.
A boxcar caught fire from an unknown cause in the Roseville,
California, yards, near Sacramento.
What might have been a small localized fire quickly became a
regional emergency... because the car was full of bombs.
14 boxcars detonated in a spectacular chain reaction.
Flaming shrapnel was thrown into nearby neighborhoods.
At the time of Roseville, a revolution was underway.
In 1970, both the Environmental Protection Agency and the
Occupational Safety and Hazard Administration were founded.
To the EPA and OSHA, it was time for the government to stop
playing second fiddle to the railroads and their Bureau of
Explosives. >> ALDRICH: And they say, "This
is unconstitutional, letting the Bureau of Explosives do this
kind of thing." So, it becomes much more
centralized in the Department of Transportation and the Federal
Railroad Administration, roughly about 1970.
>> NARRATOR: The story of hazmat hauling has mirrored the last
century, and half of American history.
The rise and fall of the great railroads...
the coming of big government... the advent of the environmental
movement... An explosive history, to be
sure. Here are some fiery collisions
that are no accidents. They're staged to test the
world's strongest transportation container.
It had better be, because it carries the most dangerous cargo
of all-- high-level nuclear waste.
In the '50s, America was bullish on the peaceful uses of nuclear
energy. And in September 1957, we
finally put it to work. >> The city of Pittsburgh was
lighted with the aid of atomic power at shipping port.
This new source of power had been put to work.
It was a history-making accomplishment.
>> NARRATOR: A milestone, yes, but something of a millstone for
future generations. At the time, there were no plans
for the disposal of spent nuclear fuel.
Permanent storage of used uranium pellets, with a
half-life of thousands of years, was beyond the technology of the
day. The problem was simply deferred
to a future time. That time has finally arrived.
In 2002, Congress approved the location of a permanent storage
facility for spent nuclear fuel. The site: Yucca Mountain,
Nevada. The first of several thousand
highly radioactive shipments are scheduled to begin in 2010.
Which has got a lot of people spooked.
>> RICCIO: My colleagues call this "mobile Chernobyl."
That's truly what it is. This is an enormous amount of
radiation being dragged through people's neighborhoods.
>> NARRATOR: How it will get through our neighborhoods safely
is a matter of the most painstaking preparation.
>> MOSES: Radioactive materials are subject to the most
scrutiny, not only in terms of what containers are used to
transport those kinds of materials, but the spill
contingency plans, and the qualifications, training and
equipment of the response personnel.
>> NARRATOR: At 103 nuclear plants scattered across the
nation, some 40,000 metric tons of radioactive waste have
accumulated. It's in the form of spent
nuclear fuel assemblies, which are bundles of 17-foot long
metal rods studded with pellets of enriched uranium.
No longer potent enough to fire the boilers of a power plant,
you still wouldn't want to stand next to one unprotected.
You'd be get a lethal dose of radiation.
Just getting them out of where they are now is a formidable
technical challenge. >> RICCIO: The radioactive
waste, which is basically the spent fuel from nuclear power
plants, is lying in enormous swimming pools next to every
nuclear power plant in the country.
>> NARRATOR: It is the sheer mass of water-- some 40 feet
deep-- that acts as a radioactive shield.
It also cools down the rods, which still release nuclear
energy. To move the waste, a massive
crane lowers a container called a cask into the pool.
Robotic arms load in the fuel assemblies.
The cask lid is bolted down. So far, the operation has taken
place under water. Hoisted from the pool, the cask
is backfilled with helium gas and placed on a custom trailer.
Outer protective layers, or "impact limiters," are fitted
over the cask. The container's surface is
decontaminated. It will then be ready for the
journey to Yucca Mountain. Radiation-tight, immensely
strong. >> JOHN VINCENT: We do an awful
lot of work to make sure that the transportation containers
themselves will perform exceptionally well under all
severe kinds of circumstances. >> NARRATOR: How strong are the
casks? At Sandia National Laboratories
in New Mexico, scientists have tried their best to break them.
In one test, a cask-carrying tractor trailer was rammed at 80
miles an hour into a 700-ton concrete wall.
In another, a rocket-powered locomotive was run at a cask on
a tractor-trailer broadside. Casks have been drop-tested from
30 feet. Puncture tested.
Roasted in jet fuel for one hour.
They've emerged blackened and dented, but structurally sound.
And yet, critics say that the tests have fallen short of some
extreme real-world conditions. They're tested to 1,400 degrees,
a temperature which some accidents may exceed.
>> RICCIO: Back in July of 2001, you had a fire in the Baltimore
Tunnel. Had there been radioactive waste
on that train, you could have caused thousands of cancer
deaths. It would have cost tens of
millions of dollars to clean up. The casks are not adequate, and
they're not adequately tested, either.
>> NARRATOR: The sheer weight of the cask-- 15 tons or more-- is
another challenge. >> VINCENT: As opposed to a
normal shipment of a semitrailer going down the road, he's got
boxes stacked up from the front of the trailer to the back door.
And in this instance, the weight of the shipping containers tends
to be concentrated towards the middle of the trailer or the
rail car. >> NARRATOR: All this dead
weight in the middle of the trailer causes the rig to handle
differently. >> POTTER: The trailer goes up
and down like this, and you feel it everywhere.
>> NARRATOR: Only the elite of long-haul drivers
will be entrusted with a load of nuclear waste.
And they won't be alone. State police and the U.S. Army
will escort each shipment door to door.
And they may also have other company.
>> RICCIO: I would like to see Greenpeace blocking it at every
reactor gate around the country. Uh, I don't want to block it en
route, because I believe the stuff is dangerous.
I prefer to protect my people and use their gates to do it.
>> NARRATOR: Scrutinized by environmentalists, escorted by
the military, tracked by satellites, the shipments will
fan out over the interstate system.
By the state of Nevada's estimate, Atlanta might
see an average of one shipment per day.
Chicago-- one and a half. Closer to the Yucca Mountain
terminal, Salt Lake City could see about four.
Closer yet, Las Vegas could see seven shipments per day.
If all goes well, the casks will arrive at the repository, be
off-loaded onto an underground rail system, and deep within
Yucca Mountain, be relieved of their radioactive freight.
The multimillion dollar casks will be reused, sent back for
another load. How safe is this plan?
Just look at the record, says the nuclear industry.
>> VINCENT: We have had almost 3,000 shipments of spent nuclear
fuel in the United States for almost 40 years now.
There has never been a release of the radioactive material
contents from the canisters. >> NARRATOR: It is the
unprecedented scale of the Yucca Mountain project that's the
biggest worry. Between 50,000 to a 100,000
separate shipments, depending on whether they will go mostly by
truck or by train. In all those shipments, some
fear that there is too much room for error.
>> RICCIO: You're going to have accidents.
You're going to contaminate large areas of land.
The DOE, which I believe underestimates the risk, has
acknowledged that you can contaminate as much as 42 square
miles. That's basically the size of the
District of Columbia. >> NARRATOR: But in the days
since they first flipped the switch, most of us have come to
rely on nuclear power. >> ROBERTS: The fact is that 20
percent of what we've got here comes from nuclear.
I used to ask people in hearings how they got up to the ninth
floor for the hearing room. "The elevator."
Well, the next time you come up the stairs.
>> NARRATOR: A smooth ride up the elevator, and hopefully, an
uneventful trip to the desert for all those tons of nuclear
waste beginning about 2010. Lethal maybe, but radiation has
no motive to escape, which is definitely not the case with the
dangerous human cargo of the real Con Air.
Here is an airline that prides itself on nondescript jets,
Spartan refreshments, unfriendly service and long check-in lines.
It's the last airline you'd want to log frequent flier miles on.
Welcome aboard Con Air. >> KENNETH L. PEKAREK: You have
to be indicted to be invited. It's an airline where you don't
have to make a reservation. We will make that reservation
for you. >> NARRATOR: Official name--
JPATS-- the Justice Prisoner and Alien Transportation System.
JPATS is the federal agency charged with transporting our
most dangerous cargo-- of the human variety.
>> PEKAREK: Anybody that you see on television on your nightly
news, or anybody that you read about in the newspaper, JPATS
will eventually move that individual.
>> NARRATOR: JPATS is an outgrowth of the U.S. Marshal
Service, the oldest federal law enforcement agency, founded by
George Washington in 1789. Among other things, U.S.
marshals have the task of hunting fugitives and
transporting them to far-flung courts and jails.
They chaperone their charges on the conveyance of the day--
stagecoach, train, van or automobile.
But by the 1980s, they were approaching a crisis of
inefficiency. While prison populations were
soaring, marshals were still escorting prisoners one or two
at a time. >> PEKAREK: Not only that, but
in those days you used your own personal vehicle.
There was no security cage inside that vehicle.
The prisoners were in the back seat right behind you.
So there were escapes. >> NARRATOR: In the mid-'80s,
the Marshal Service received a surplus airliner from the FAA
and began operating its prisoner-only flights.
>> PEKAREK: That one 727 eliminated virtually all the car
trips, all the van trips. That's basically how it got
started, with one 727. >> NARRATOR: It came to be known
as Con Air-- years before the movie by the same name.
Today JPATS has grown to be a huge land and air transportation
system, moving a quarter of a million passengers a year, with
regular air service to more than 40 domestic and international
destinations, although it's not regular service in the usual
sense. >> SCOTT ROLSTAD: The schedules
that we keep are only known to ourselves.
We constantly change out the schedule.
It's one of the ways that we can keep the risk to us and the
threat potential to its absolute lowest.
>> NARRATOR: So, ready to take a flight on Con Air?
Departure point, Kansas City Downtown Airport.
If all goes well, it's a 55- minute flight to the JPATS hub
at Oklahoma City. Your journey begins on a
heavily-guarded U.S. Marshal or Bureau of Prisons bus or van
which pulls up right onto the runway apron.
Right on time, your flight arrives-- an old 727 with plain
Jane graphics. >> JEFF RUSSELL: We don't want
to have a big marshal star on the side of the airplane, or
something, that would let everybody know what we were
doing. The quieter the better.
>> NARRATOR: Shotguns at the ready, guards form a security
perimeter around the aircraft. Their job is to meet any
incoming threat, since many outside parties would like to
get at the prisoners-- either to free them or harm them.
>> PEKAREK: The United States Marshal Service is responsible
for the Federal Protection Program.
And those witnesses who are testifying against organized
crime or whatever, they use our aircraft to move these types of
movements. >> NARRATOR: Within this
perimeter, there is a second ring of security where guards
shackle prisoners, search them, and track their paperwork as
they file from bus to airplane. Back at JPATS headquarters, an
intelligence update. >> PEKAREK: Do you have a minute
to give me that security briefing on those aircraft?
>> ROLSTAD: I do. We're moving some terrorists
throughout the Northeast and, um, uh, today we've got one
person that we're moving for the Bureau of Prisons that was an
extreme escape risk. >> PEKAREK: The terrorists--
do we know if they're associated with the Al-Qaeda?
What does intelligence tell us about that?
>> ROLSTAD: The intelligence that we've developed is that
they are in fact associated, have very close ties and
associations with the Al-Qaeda terrorist group.
>> NARRATOR: Not only for terrorists, but for every
passenger, JPATS has gathered detailed intelligence.
>> PEKAREK: There may be close to 113 different type of
elements that we have to review before we even move a prisoner.
Some of these prisoners are testifying against other
prisoners, so we have to keep them separated from the people
they're testifying against. Some of the prisoners are gang
members, and they have rival gang members.
>> NARRATOR: Passenger manifests warn of conflicts.
Gang members will be separated. Escape risks will be watched
closely. One passenger has a curious
astrological prejudice. "Will kill Leos."
Shackled at ankle, waist and wrist, the prisoners file up the
gangway and onto the airplane. The cabin is secured for
takeoff. Minus the usual pleasantries,
the federally required safety announcement.
>> May I have your attention on the aircraft?
At this time all seat belts required to be fastened and
remain fastened throughout the flight.
>> NARRATOR: Aviation enforcement officers perform the
safety functions of flight attendants.
Just don't expect service with a smile.
>> RUSSELL: I would have to say that the service and the food
were pretty terrible. I would not give two thumbs up
on either. None of us are supposed to be or
are trained to be waiters or waitresses.
>> PEKAREK: We consider the inside of our aircraft to be a
maximum-security institution. We take absolutely no chances
on, on even allowing these prisoners to think that there's
a chance to escape. >> NARRATOR: Still, on the real
Con Air, there are no metal cages.
Nor can prisoners be chained to the airplane due to federal
safety rules. But some passengers are "black
boxed"-- fitted with additional restraints over their cuffs.
>> JASON WILDER: Those black boxes are what we consider more
high-risk. We put them next to the windows,
creating that situation where it's harder for them to get out
of that aisle, so that they can't get to our center aisle.
>> NARRATOR: One other thing, should you be tempted to make a
sudden exit. There are no parachutes.
>> WILDER: We go down, you go down.
Got your seat belt on? >> NARRATOR: For all the human
dynamite on board, most problems are garden variety travelers'
gripes. For example, many of these
hardened criminals are afraid to fly.
>> WILDER: Like, we have one on board right now who's extremely
claustrophobic. They let us know about it
ahead of time, and we were able to make arrangements for that so
that we can possibly keep him calm, or at least be able to
identify who he is immediately, and that way we can handle him.
>> NARRATOR: Jittery cons and all, this stretch in an airborne
maximum security prison passes without incident.
>> RUSSELL: Well, we're about to touch down right now.
>> NARRATOR: From the airplane, the prisoners go down a jetway
that leads to the Oklahoma City Federal Transfer Center located
right off the runway-- going directly from jet back to prison
without passing go. >> PEKAREK: Basically, the
inmates walk off of our institution in the air, they
walk right into the jetway into that institution, and their feet
never hit the ground. >> NARRATOR: The most dangerous
or notorious of prisoners-- the Timothy McVeighs and Unabombers
of the system-- are not transported on the 727.
These cons get a sort of reverse VIP treatment-- a flight in a
small jet, such as this Hawker aircraft.
They are usually black boxed. And the most extreme risks are
fitted with a Hannibal Lechter- like mask.
This is one instance where you don't want the ride on the
corporate jet. Since 1995, JPATS has moved a
million and a half criminals humanely without a single
escape. Apart from the movies, the real
Con Air is little known, perhaps because their schedules aren't
posted, the airplanes aren't marked, and they seldom lose any
luggage, let alone a passenger. Con Air's perfect record isn't
matched by the other movers of dangerous cargo, which is why
those rubber hazmat suits are quickly coming into fashion.
Train wrecks. Rollovers.
Spills. They happen.
>> MOSES: Despite training and preparations, spills do happen.
And when they do happen, it's important to respond quickly and
decisively, and to have the proper resources ready to go.
>> NARRATOR: When the trucker's panic button is hit or 911
dialed, the so-called "first responders" converge.
The local police or firefighters.
>> CAPTAIN DAVID LANGE: At that point, we decide whether we're
going to be very aggressive and offensive in trying to handle
the emergency, or defensive and stay back and possibly just as
simple as wait for a cleanup crew to come in and take care of
it. >> NARRATOR: What determines
that response is the answer to an all-important question.
>> MOSES: The very first thing the responder wants to know is,
"What is this stuff?" >> NARRATOR: One source of
right-now information is a chemical industry hot line.
Step into its inner sanctum. >> TIM BUTTERS: You're in the
Chemtrec Emergency Center. And this is a 24-hour emergency
center that provides, uh, receives calls involving
chemical spills, hazardous materials, accidents.
>> MIKE MURPHY: Chemtrec. Mike speaking.
How can I help you? Uh, what's the tank car number?
>> NARRATOR: Chemtrec is wired into the nationwide chemical
shipping network. Operators can match a tank car
number to a bill of lading, instantly identifying its cargo.
>> MURPHY: We get them the information quickly, nobody gets
hurt, and, uh, everybody goes home.
>> NARRATOR: Back at the scene of a spill, a "hot zone" is
identified, into which no one may enter without protective
gear. A transition area, called a
"warm zone," is staked out for equipment staging and
decontamination. One of the most frightening
emergency scenarios is a large-scale chlorine gas leak.
The familiar household chemical chlorine can be deadly when
undiluted. >> RICK HIND: Chlorine gas that
was used in World War I as a poison gas chemical is routinely
shipped on 90-ton rail cars. Any accident involving that one
rail car could devastate a community 20 miles away.
>> NARRATOR: Fortunately, this is only a drill.
Inhalation dangers such as chlorine gas get the full-blown
hazmat treatment. With "Level A" protective suits
and their SCBA, or scuba-type breathing apparatus.
>> LARRY M. CUFFY: First we put on our SCBA.
Then we don our suit. Our suit is made of polyunestane
rubber. We have on three-layer gloves.
We have boots that go over the bootie that's on the suit.
And once we're ready to go in, we don our mask, and zip up the
suit and proceed into the incident.
>> NARRATOR: Inside the hot zone, the real danger spots are
sniffed out with high-tech sensors.
>> LANGE: We have organic vapor analyzers, we have combustible
gas indicators, toxic vapor analyzers, and things like that.
Basically, anything, hopefully, that we can encounter-- we have
some way to detect it. >> NARRATOR: The first
responders' role is containment. Securing the area, and, if
possible, stopping the leak. In this case, hazmat techs
position a specially designed chlorine cap over the leaking
valve. The fire department's job is now
mostly done. Yet the contaminated area must
be cleaned up. And that's when yet another
hotline may buzz at the Spill Center.
>> MOSES: Because if you're a trucking company driving from
east coast to west coast, the spill could happen anywhere.
Chances are you're not going to know who is available, who is
qualified, who has the right equipment and materials right
now to respond to that release. >> NARRATOR: There are about
3,000 companies throughout the U.S. that specialize in hazmat
cleanup. What do they use to sop up a
solid toxic mess? Certain forms of naturally
absorbent clay which you know as kitty litter.
>> MOSES: Absorbent materials. Kitty litter is common in the
industrial setting. Or smart kitty litter-- kitty
litter that has an affinity for a particular chemical or a
particular type of material. >> NARRATOR: And finally,
someone has to foot a rather sizable bill.
>> MOSES: The average amount released is 104 gallons, and the
average cost to clean that up nationwide right now is about
$9,800. When it comes to bulk releases--
releases from tank cars-- the costs are significantly higher.
Oftentimes $200,000 and up. >> NARRATOR: A unique American
law fixes responsibility for cleanup costs.
It's not who or what caused the accident.
If you were carrying the stuff, you clean it up.
>> MOSES: So it doesn't matter that you didn't mean to have the
spill. If you had care custody and
control of the material, if it's your chemical, and it spills, as
a matter of law, you are responsible.
So, that's very different from, say, medical malpractice where
there's negligence. >> NARRATOR: There are some
60,000 reported spills each year in the U.S.
So, if you're looking for job security in a growing industry,
consider trading in that business suit for a Level-A
hazmat suit. 800,000 daily shipments.
60,000 yearly spills. What does it all add up to?
>> MOSES: A very, very large percentage of hazardous material
shipments go from point A to point B unnoticed, undetected,
without any trouble of any kind. In fact, the majority of those
800,000 shipments a day are transported safely without
incident. >> ROBERTS: I was quoted in the<i>
Washington Post</i> a few years ago in an article called "Bombs On
The Beltway" where I pointed out, that particular year almost
four times more people were killed in skateboard accidents
than in all hazmat transportation in the United
States. And that got a lot of hoots, but
a lot of people checked it, and they said, "He's right."
>> NARRATOR: Over 150 years, we've progressed from buckboard
wagons to super containers that can withstand the impact from a
locomotive. A bumpy ride at times.
As it will be again... because this is one long haul
that never ends.
