Earl Davenport never backed down from a job that exposed him to deadly nerve
agents or simulants sprayed into the dry desert air of the Army's Dugway Proving Ground.
A government employee at Dugway since the early 1960s, he recalls receiving
shots of small amounts of biological agents to build up his immune system and having
"tons of the stuff all over me," while clothed in a rubber suit and cleaning off
contaminated equipment.
"I wasn't afraid of anything," he says. "If you are scared, you
can't work with it. You will go insane. I met guys who were afraid, and they were a safety
hazard."
But on a recent overcast day at his home, the 54-year-old retired government
test officer feared the weather. Davenport - who loved working in the open air and, at
first glance, appears the robust outdoorsman - said if it rains or snows, he faces severe
breathing problems, rapid heartbeat and possible onset of another heart attack. A
cumbersome oxygen machine helps him sleep, and several bottles of blood thinners, heart
"rhythm pills" and inhalers are atop his dresser.
"I'm just surviving," he said. "I have no life."
Like many workers at Dugway today (see accompanying story), Davenport said he
never doubted the assurances and judgments of his superiors, who briefed him on the
hazards of his job. But he assumed that if they were wrong, the government would take
responsibility for it and protect its workers.
Now, Davenport, who will testify Wednesday before a Senate committee on
Dugway's testing activities, said he was wrong.
"I want the people working at Dugway to know that you are at your own
risk," he said.
Davenport recalled learning that lesson on July 13, 1984. It was a breezy day
in a remote corner of the vast 800,000-acre proving ground in Utah's west desert.
The Army was testing a laser system that would detect nerve agents. Davenport
was operating a sprayer, blowing a fog of nerve agent simulant called dimethyl
methylphosphonate, or DMMP, into the path of the laser beam. Nearly a decade before, after
an errant cloud of nerve gas killed a herd of sheep outside Dugway, Congress had banned
open-air testing of actual agents, requiring the use of safer simulants, such as DMMP.
During the test, Davenport noticed a sudden shift in wind direction and quickly
cut off the spray. But before he could don his protective mask, a cloud of the chemical
enveloped him.
"I could feel it on my skin and taste it. It was oily," Davenport
said. "I tried to wipe it off and put my mask on."
But Davenport wasn't too concerned about getting hit with a simulant. He and
other workers trusted the Army's assurances that DMMP was "practically
non-toxic," according to a brief description of DMMP available to Dugway employees at
the time of the test.
"May irritate mucous membranes and respiratory tract," the brief
outline said. "Prolonged skin contact may cause irritation, blisters and burns."
Dugway's safety office recommended workers using DMMP wear a military
protective mask, rubber gloves and apron.
Workers always carried masks, Davenport said, but rarely wore them during a
test; they merely monitored wind direction and quickly slipped their masks on if the
chemical cloud blew their way, he said.
But Davenport's exposure was excessive. He recalled a medic checking him out at
the test site, then he left to shower and fill out an accident report.
"But the next day I felt different," he recalled. "I was
wheezing and coughing up phlegm."
The cough syrup and antibiotics the Dugway health clinic gave him on follow-up
visits didn't cure his cough and congestion, and his condition worsened over the years. He
easily fell victim to colds and the flu. He was short of breath at high altitudes. He
suffered a heart attack in 1988. In 1990, illness forced him to miss work an average six
days a month, and he left work twice in an ambulance because of heart and breathing
problems. He said the days he felt the worst were when outdoor simulant tests were
conducted.
A large, strong man and an avid outdoorsman, Davenport's health decline was
demoralizing. His superiors found him a safety risk, eventually removing him from chemical
and biological agent work. At the urging of his doctor, he took an early retirement buyout
in November 1992.
Fearing demotion and losing federal retirement benefits, Davenport never
complained about his health problems to his superiors. But, he said, the thought it could
have been caused by DMMP exposure often crossed his mind. He recalled several years after
the accident, posting signs in an indoor laboratory before a DMMP test, warning workers
that the substance could cause cancer.
"I started to wonder, What the hell did I breathe?" he said.
He did some research while he had access to files and found the Army had put
federal workers at a serious health risk by using DMMP. Among his findings:
- An Army memo issued three months before the laser test that said a study was
under way on the cancer-causing potential of DMMP. "A positive finding in this study
would eliminate the material for consideration as a simulant," the memo said.
- A 1986 memo saying the studies confirmed DMMP as a mild carcinogen and
harmful to the male reproductive system. The memo recommended developing an alternative
simulant; meanwhile, those handling DMMP should continue to wear a mask and protective
clothing.
- A 1988 "disposition form" from Dugway Safety Office Chief Larry K.
Whisenant: "DMMP has been determined to be a mild carcinogen and potent renal toxin.
Because of these hazards, there is grave concern over the release of DMMP into the
environment and exposure of personnel to liquid and vapors," he wrote. "A safer
simulant should be substituted for outdoor testing."
Whisenant also said a standard respirator mask is not sufficient for protection
against DMMP. He recommended that the chemical be used only in a laboratory, and even then
personnel handling DMMP should wear a mask hooked up to a separate oxygen supply.
Dugway safety officials confirmed that DMMP was used extensively as a simulant
for chemical agents until 1988, when the Army surgeon general reviewed studies identifying
it as a "suspect carcinogen."
"Since 1988 the use of DMMP has been reduced significantly because the
recommended exposure limit required protective clothing criteria and engineering controls
that were so astringent that DMMP lost most of its value as a simulant," Dugway's
public affairs office said in a written response to Deseret News queries about DMMP.
Although the Army clearly miscalculated the health hazards of DMMP for several
years, the government has concluded that Davenport's health problems were his own making.
Indeed, his lifelong smoking habit has made it nearly impossible to attribute even a small
portion of his poor health to exposure to DMMP.
He said that when his congestion and coughing persisted for nearly a month
after his accident, a Dugway clinic nurse recommended he visit the University of Utah
hospital's pulmonary division. A hospital report diagnosed the problem as a "mild
exacerbation of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease by irritant effect of DMMP."
Meanwhile, Dugway responded with its own diagnosis - four months after the
accident - highlighting Davenport's smoking habit and downplaying the impact of DMMP.
"The exposure (to DMMP) may have caused acute episode, but (chronic obstructive
pulmonary disease) from smoking may be chronic," the report said.
But Dugway spokeswoman Carol Fruick said if employees believe they have been
harmed on the job, they can seek recourse through federal Department of Labor or the
courts.
Shortly before his retirement, Davenport filed a workman's compensation claim
for his 1984 exposure to DMMP and his subsequent health problems. The claim was initially
accepted, and Davenport received benefits for a brief period. But a follow-up medical
evaluation by a U.S. Department of Labor-appointed physician resulted in the claim being
denied six months later.
The follow-up evaluation didn't dismiss the possibility of exposure to DMMP or
toxins during 20 years at Dugway as a cause of Davenport's health problems. "However,
in the absence of specific exposure data, or defined events leading to medical attention,
there is insufficient data to definitely attribute a portion of his disease to the toxins,
"report said, noting that his "smoking history is sufficient to explain all of
his current abnor-mal-ities."
Dugway officials confirmed no record exists of the amount of DMMP to which
Davenport was exposed. Nor could they find Davenport's accident or injury reports.
But Davenport has what he claims are copies of the reports made from his
personnel file. The reports are among the reams of other documents filling a cardboard box
in his home.
Davenport is appealing his workman's compensation denial.
He acknowledges smoking has contributed to his health problems. But he contends
that common sense indicates a spray in the face with a known lung irritant and years of
exposure to other agents and simulants would account for at least part of his suffering,
even if Dugway has no record of the exact amount of what he was exposed to.
"I have inhaled it all. I've had tons of the stuff all over me. I ran
hundreds of tests for the Army and now (the government) won't accept any responsibility
for my health problems. They blame it on my smoking, 100 percent," he said, the
resentment clear in his voice. "If I was so unhealthy and had a lung disease, why did
they let a smoker work on the (DMMP) test?"
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