Whatcom Creek: Fifteen Years Remembrance

Terry Garrett is an autodidact with a lifelong interest in change, history, and the environment.

There are certain things that happen in life that are watershed moments, that you remember for the rest of your life. You remember where you were and what you were doing, and sometimes those memories are shared by masses of people. The day President Kennedy was shot, if you’re of my age. The day the World Trade Center towers fell, 9/11, if you’re of a more recent vintage. One such event happened right here in Bellingham, made international news, and anyone that was here knows just where they were and what they were doing, on that day. It was June 10, 1999, the day Whatcom Creek blew up and burned.

I had been in town that day with my wife Sandy, a visiting friend, Andy, and my daughter Tarah, whom we had just picked up at her mom’s. At that time we lived almost ten miles outside Bellingham on the border of Ferndale, so jumping onto the freeway and heading up I-5 was the quickest route home. We were on Ohio Street, waiting at the King Street intersection, across from the Diary Queen, heading east to catch the I-5 north entrance. As we began moving when the light changed, I noticed something strange in the distance up toward the cemetery. My mind didn’t really wrap around it, though, until we were slowed at the next light after going under the freeway, when I realized that a huge ball of fire and smoke was heading our way. It was paralleling Ohio Street, but seemed about a block over, jumping in exploding bounds of maybe fifty feet each. As I drove around the on ramp, I shouted for Andy to reach into my pack in the seat next to him and get my camera.

After I’d pulled onto the freeway above Ohio St, it was no problem to stop the car and jump out, as just about all the traffic had stopped or at least slowed to city speed. I took pictures as everyone was shouting about different things we saw going on. It was chaos. Andy was thinking immediately of the consequences of what was happening, and saying to himself more than us, “Oh my God! Someone is dying from this right now!” And then through the din I heard my daughter crying out, “I don’t want to die so that you can take pictures!” Not sure what was even going on, I wasn’t about to argue with my ten year-old.

So I jumped back in the car and drove down to the next exit, where I got off to take pictures from the walking overpass at Illinois Street. By then, the fire had apparently not spread any further, but the smoke continued to billow upwards, so after a few more pictures we got back in the car and drove home. We could see the smoke from our house, almost at Axton Road.

As I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. It was my daughter’s mother, calling to tell us to look towards Bellingham. Something really big was burning. When I told her where we were when it happened, she said, “Call this number!” She then proceeded to give me the number of the news station she had on. The station wanted someone who was there to call and tell them what was going on.

I called and told someone what I’d seen and was told to hold on. After about thirty seconds someone came on who was obviously on the air and asked what I’d seen. Thinking this was a local radio station, I made sure to include details, like the DQ and Jalopy Jacuzzi, but was asked instead about the fire itself. I replied that from my experience it looked like a fuel oil fire and probably from a pipeline since it was traveling in such a straight line, and that it reminded me of a scene from Apocalypse Now.

It turned out I was speaking to CNN national. I learned this later from the owner of an adult family home where I used to work, who had been trying to figure out if they should get all the folks ready to evacuate or not. When they’d heard my voice and assessment of what I’d seen, everyone calmed down and realized that it wasn’t spreading and no evacuation was necessary. I can only hope it was the same for other people.

‘Hamster friends of mine were in an airport in Saudi Arabia that day. When they saw Bellingham mentioned on CNN international with pictures of a large smoke cloud above the city, they wondered: What was happening back in Bellingham? What was happening was a corporate crime of major dimensions.

Eventually, Olympic Pipe Line and Equilon Pipeline, which had operated the pipeline in 1999, were charged with five felony violations of the Hazardous Liquid Pipeline Safety Act and two misdemeanor violations of the Clean Water Act. Olympic Pipe Line would later plead guilty to one felony count under the Hazardous Liquid Pipeline Safety Act and the two misdemeanor violations of the Clean Water Act. Equilon Pipeline entered no-contest pleas to the same violations. Both companies agreed to pay $112 million to settle all federal criminal fines and most of the civil claims.

In 1890, the highest court in New York State revoked the charter of the North River Sugar Refining Corporation in a unanimous decision: “The judgment sought against the defendant is one of corporate death. The state which created, asks us to destroy, and the penalty invoked represents the extreme rigor of the law. The life of a corporation is, indeed, less than that of the humblest citizen, and yet it envelopes great accumulations of property, moves and carries in large volume the business and enterprise of the people, and may not be destroyed without clear and abundant reason...” 1

I don’t think this should be looked at so much as punishment for the corporation. After all, it’s just a stack of official papers. But we can look upon it as a vindication of the sovereignty of human people, real people. When human sovereignty has been harmed, humans are the ones who must be made whole. The human community has been endangered. Society has been disrupted, thrown out of the norm, and needs to be repaired. Some semblance of justice should be given to the people of a community that has been harmed by corporate misdeeds.

As I look back on 1999, I agree with Derrick Jensen that we should treat corporations more like aliens from outer space than “persons.” Corporate aliens live forever. How would we treat aliens from space that mowed down our forests, vacuumed up 90 percent of the large fish in the oceans, and polluted our air and water? Wouldn’t we go out and fight them in the streets? How about if they killed real human people? Would they be allowed to live on? What would have been a “clear and abundant reason” in 1999?

To the corporate alien, getting fuel to Sea Tac was, and still is, more important than children’s lives. To the corporate alien, money is the end-all.

Tragically, Andy turned out to be right. Someone was dying right then. Liam Wood, forever eighteen, had been overcome by fumes and drowned while fly fishing in Whatcom Creek. Two other boys, Wade King and Steven Tsiorvas, both forever ten years old, died the next day. The only place on their badly burned bodies that their parents could touch them during that short day was the bottoms of their feet.

As I type these words fifteen years later, tears spill down my cheeks. I am so afraid of bringing more pain to the parents if they read my words. They have already opened this wound many times for the betterment of our community and our nation. I hope they know their children are not, and never will be, forgotten by others in our community.

I have heard Steven and Wade described as two angels who saved hundreds of lives in downtown Bellingham. If the fuel had been allowed to flow into town and then ignite? Those recently derailed trains in Ontario would have seemed a small accident in comparison.

Liam’s love of fish in the rivers has been reflected back to me by some students who volunteered to help clean up creeks and river beds for salmon. They had read the story of his short life. The other species that he loved has benefited from his passion.

My daughter was a schoolmate of Steven and a playmate of both boys. Every June tenth, I am sure their parents’ scars of healing get pulled at, as are mine and those of many of us in this community.

Chronology of the Pipeline Explosion

(from the archives of the Center for Pacific Northwest Studies)

June 10, 1999 (Thursday)

3:25 p.m. Olympic Pipe Line Co. computers shut down the pipeline for what were claimed to be circumstances unrelated to the impending explosion.

4:25 p.m. 911 receives several reports of chemical and fuel odors and an amber substance floating in the area of Whatcom Creek.

4:32 p.m. Olympic pipeline crews attempt to restart the pipeline. The pressure refuses to build indicating a leak in the line.

5:02 p.m. The pipeline erupts. Over 100 emergency calls are received by 911 from residents.

5:20 p.m. St. Joseph’s Hospital issues a “yellow alert” preparing the staff for a major emergency.

5:30 p.m. The hospital upgrades to a “red alert” meaning victims are enroute.

5:40 p.m. 10-year-old burn victims Stephen Tsiorvas and Wade King arrive at the emergency room.

6:25 p.m. The victims are airlifted to Harborview Medical Center’s burn unit in Seattle.

9:00 p.m. Whatcom County Search and Rescue volunteers find the body of 18-year-old Liam Wood in Whatcom Creek. Wood succumbed to the fumes and drowned. Spot fires continue to burn along the creek.

10:00 p.m. Wildlife and Fisheries Department officials walk the length of the creek noting the hundreds of burned and charred species of dead wildlife. They measure the water temperature at 82 degrees, 35 degrees higher than the normal temperature, five hours after the blast.

11:30 p.m. City officials discover extremely high levels of gas fumes in the sewer system and begin planning an evacuation. The levels drop before this action is necessary.

June 11, 1999 (Friday)

2:10 a.m. Wade King dies.

5:30 a.m. City, state and federal officials hold the first press conference concerning the blast.

7:00 a.m. Stephen Tsiorvas dies.

8:15 a.m. Fish and Wildlife workers make a second evaluation of the creek and discover that numerous dead species have floated down the creek. They find no evidence of any living species.

12:00 p.m. State and Federal officials order all scientists from the creek area fearing that the exposure to toxins is still at dangerous levels.

1. People v. North River Sugar Refining Corp. 24 N. E. 834 (1890)