It was the worst environmental catastrophe in Virginia’s history: In 1975, investigators found that the Allied Chemical Corp. in Hopewell had been flushing the deadly insecticide Kepone into the James River for years.
Image courtesy Gerald P. McCarthy
The Kepone dumping caused health issues to humans and aquatic life alike and resulted in a ban on fishing downriver on the James to the Chesapeake Bay, but it wasn’t an isolated incident. Such brazen pollution was happening legally all over the commonwealth due to a loophole under the federal Clean Water Act of 1972 that allowed waste to be discharged into waterways if a permit was obtained.
In Virginia, “permits were being handed out like Chiclets,” says Gerald P. McCarthy, the author of “Blueprint for Going Green,” a retrospective on the disaster and the restorative efforts that followed. The public had no say, he adds, and tiny, volunteer-run environmental groups had little clout.
When Allied Chemical pleaded guilty in 1976 to 940 counts of illegally discharging Kepone into the James, U.S. District Court Judge Robert R. Merhige Jr. imposed the largest fine for water pollution ever handed down at the time: $13.24 million ($62 million today). Then, he did something novel, directing that $8 million be used to establish the Virginia Environmental Endowment, a private, independent nonprofit that would issue grants to improve environmental quality.
McCarthy was tapped to lead the endowment alongside a board of trustees that in the early years included Richmond notables such as Best Products founders Sydney and Frances Lewis and author Tom Wolfe.
The first problem they encountered: There weren’t enough groups to financially support. So, the board began writing checks to help fledgling environmental organizations grow into advocacy powerhouses, including the Virginia office of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, the Southern Environmental Law Center and the James River Association.
The second problem: No one knew the extent of the pollution, or who the culprits were. So, the endowment funded research, including an investigation into Virginia’s discharge-permit process. This uncovered massive mismanagement and resulted in an overhaul of permit operations.
The third problem was the biggest: “There was a lot of finger-pointing,” McCarthy says. Rather than casting blame, he asked, “Is there a way we can bring parties together for large environmental questions and resolve them peacefully?” The answer was so-called “environmental mediation.”
Perhaps the best example of this innovative practice is what happened with the Elizabeth River in Norfolk.
By the 1990s, toxic creosote sludge, sewage runoff, industrial chemicals and pesticides had left the river all but dead and afflicted its fish with cancerous lesions. Local reporter-turned-river advocate Marjorie Mayfield Jackson knew that environmentalists would only be ignored “if we blame and sue and hold protests.” Instead, she asked the endowment for $1,375 to get started on a collaborative cleanup effort. That grant kick-started The Elizabeth River Project, which successfully engaged corporations and citizens in restoring life to the river.
For those who get discouraged by the enormity of environmental problems, McCarthy, who retired from the endowment in 2013 after 36 years, offers hope. “There are heroes everywhere,” he says. “And they’ve done a remarkable job the last 40 years or more.” People ask him how they can help, and his answer is simple: Find a local advocacy group and offer them your time, your money or both. Virginia’s environmental movement has come a long way, he says, but “there’s still plenty to do.”
“Blueprint for Going Green: How a Small Foundation Changed the Model for Environmental Conservation” by Gerald P. McCarthy is available from the University of Virginia Press ($24.95, paperback and e-book).
