Residents irked over lack of progress on contamination

Peggy Revell

Laura Foran still has the piece of paper that stated she could go ahead with building her home on Harry’s Road, with a view of Rainy Lake.
Now eight years later, the piece of land where she’s made her home has been identified as having the highest level of dioxins and furans out of all the buildings tested so far on Couchiching First Nation by DST Consulting Engineers.
“People go, ‘You’re contaminated, get the hell out of there!’” Foran said. “Well, do you want me to come to your house?”
As reported in last week’s Times, the study commissioned by the band, Health Canada, and Indian and Northern Affairs Canada identified high levels of dioxins and furans at the former J.A. Mathieu sawmill site on Couchiching.
Further test results are being waited on.
“As soon as the [next] results come in, this place could be fenced off,” Foran said, noting that with two small children, she would have no place to go if she had to leave.
And, she added, if others feel safe, then they are more than welcome to switch homes with her.
“Documents and lab reports don’t lie,” she stressed, pointing to the part of the report that says vacuum samples taken from her home came back as having 43 times the acceptable level of dioxins and furans when compared to benchmarks DST Consulting established in the report that were comparable to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s standards.
“We figured we were going to be safe because we’re up high,” said Mike Sobkowicz, noting Foran’s house is built on bedrock.
But two of the old sawmill’s old dipping ponds are located both east and west of the home, he noted.
“So we’re stuck right in the middle of it,” he remarked. “It’s not just around here, it’s in the bush, so what does a person do?”
With instructions not to disturb the soil, they haven’t even planted a garden like they have in past years.
“Then they tell us not to disturb the soil, so do we weed-eat? Can we cut grass?” Sobkowicz wondered.
Tony Prudori, a spokesperson for Indian Affairs (Ontario Region), said the department is working with the community and Health Canada to address concerns over the contaminated site.
“For our part, we’re providing $3,000 a month for housing and utilities for the two temporary located families while further testing and remediation is carried out,” he noted.
“We’ve also provided a one-time allowance of $1,000 per family to help out because the relocation right now is a precautionary measure at the request of the First Nation,” Prudori added.
As well, Prudori said funding was provided for the fencing around areas that are known to be contaminated, as well as towards further site assessment and a remediation project.
“What we’re doing in this instance is we’re reviewing a First Nation proposal outlining further testing that needs to be carried out in order to collect more information about the source and the extent of the issue that’s being dealt with,” he noted.
“So this would be a follow-up to the first round of testing that was carried out.
The consultant’s proposal for what further testing is needed currently is being reviewed.
But while Foran hasn’t had to leave her home yet, she has seen what happened when her close neighbours and friends, the McPhersons, who were one of the two households moved away from the site back in March.
While the Jourdain family currently is renting a house in Fort Frances, the McPherson family, which includes children under the age of 10, simply ended up having to return to their home.
“We went straight to hotels because there was nothing available to rent,” recalled Lisa McPherson, which is where they stayed for the first 13 days after the move—a costly expense—until the family finally was able to secure a small rental through the help of friends.
In the meantime, she said INAC was supposed to come into their house and clean their furniture, as well as mattresses, so the family could take these with them to their new location—something that never happened.
“We did take a few things, but things we could wipe down—like a coffee table—but we didn’t take couches,” McPherson noted. “We bought all brand new pillows. We went and bought blow up mattresses, so we were all on blow up mattresses for the entire month in the rental.
“Just minimal everything.”
In fact, she said there wasn’t even a place to put clothing, so it ended up just being piled on the floor in the new rental.
“We just went from a five-bedroom, three-bathroom [home] to a little shack that had a shower in the basement,” she noted.
“We were losing it.”
A growing depression over their situation, along with the financial hardship, finally prompted the family to return to their home—despite the risk.
While the family was informed they would be reimbursed for everything they had to buy for the relocation, even getting this reimbursement was a struggle, McPherson said.
It ended up putting such a financial strain on the family that they had to max out their credit cards to pay bills, an expense she’s still working to pay off.
“We eventually, down the road, finally got it,” she noted—enough to cover the rent, as well as a one-time payment of $1,000 which they didn’t even receive until moving back home.
When asked about the McPhersons having to move back into their home, Prudori responded that “that’s sort of [the band’s] end.”
“The First Nation requested that the families should stay out of the houses until the situation is verified, so the First Nation would be in the best position to provide information,” he noted.
When asked about INAC’s promise to properly clean out the evacuated homes so the residents could take their furniture, Prudori once again reiterated that housing, including the unoccupied houses, was something that should be addressed with the band.
“Ultimately, the responsibility for the clean-up [of the contaminated site] is Indian Affairs,” stated Couchiching Chief Chuck McPherson, who happens to be Lisa McPherson’s father-in-law.
“We don’t have the financial resources to do it,” he noted. “It’s going to be costly to do it and from our perspective, [INAC is] neglecting, avoiding, and inhibiting the clean-up of the area.
“The department has the responsibility, and it’s not even debatable,” Chief McPherson stressed, pointing to the source of the contamination itself—the old J.A. Mathieu sawmill from the early 1900s which was placed on First Nations’ land.
“If you were to lease a piece of First Nation property, one of the things that is, is it has to be restored to its original condition,” he said. “And the department is our trustee, and they were supposed to ensure that that happened and they didn’t.
“Now they’re neglecting their obligation,” he charged.
While the band has been pushing INAC on the issue, Chief McPherson likened dealing with the department to hitting his head against a brick wall and getting nowhere.
“They’re a bureaucracy,” he remarked. “Their primary concern is saving a dollar, it’s not trying to help us or doing anything for our benefit.
“It’s a sad commentary that this has to happen, that there are people living it, that there are people affected.”
At this point, Lisa McPherson wants to know why there still are no answers and little action by INAC when it comes to the safety of the families in the area.
“Yeah, we’re worried about ourselves—I’m only 31—but it comes down to the kids,” she said. “When you’re a parent, you worry about your kids first.”
McPherson said all the testing being done, from test holes to fencing costs and even voluntary blood tests for residents, have cost thousands of dollars—enough money that could have bought out two or even three families so far.
And what is especially frustrating for McPherson is that their home also happens to be the newest on the road.
“It’s not even been quite three years yet that we’ve been there,” she noted, stressing the family waited almost a year before building for the new house was properly approved, going through three phases through the band, a process which also required approval from INAC.
From what McPherson understood, part of this building process included having soil samples taken to ensure the ground was safe to build on.
“We did it completely legit,” she said. “To have this after we waited a year to be approved? What were you doing while you were approving us?
“Were you letting the paper sit on a desk for three months so somebody could sign it, because nobody obviously came down and did a sample,” she charged.
“We were going to landscape. We were going to do all these things and now I can’t do anything. I can’t even cut my front grass.”
It’s a frustration Foran also shares.
“We’ve got letters and stuff saying, ‘Yes, you can build here, you can build here.’ Eight years ago,” she noted, wondering how new housing could have been allowed if there was any knowledge that the area could be contaminated.
And the concern isn’t just about those whose homes are on the old sawmill site, Foran added, pointing out the Couchiching Bingo Palace—that can see anywhere from 150-200 people on any night—also sits there.
The discovery of the contamination also has made the families speculate about other health problems they’ve observed.
“The number-one side effect [of exposure] is chloracne,” Foran said, noting this could explain the skin condition her mother has.
“My mother who is 70—she’s been here for 18 years—her legs, they’ve got them all bandaged up, and it’s on her arms and now it’s gone to her chest.”
“My dog, at only eight months, had growth cysts on his head,” McPherson said.
When the dog was taken to the vet, the cysts—which first looked like a warts and then “ballooned up”—were removed, biopsied, and came back negative, she explained, though adding the vet only would have been looking for illnesses and conditions associated with dogs.
“It makes you really wonder, though,” she said.