Old Factory 'a toxic dump'

10/22/2003

Tour of facility a real eye opener for city officials, prospecitve buyer
BY SUSAN GAMBLE
EXPOSITOR STAFF / BRANTFORD

Broken shards of glass crunch underfoot as a small group of us maneuver past tall rolls of foam, through the dark cavernous spaces of what was once a bustling carpet mill. Tuesday tour is conducted by flash light and under the ambient light that spills in from broken skylights or cave-in fan housings in the ceiling. "We avoid areas where bolts and wiring protrude from the floor and stay back from untested edges while on the roof of the building. It's a first look at the Harding site for the sellers the city of Brantford, rep resented by Mayor Chris Friel and Coun. Larry Kings and the prospective buyer, Steve Charest of King and Benton, an industrial developer.

Everyone thought it was an abandoned building on Morrell Street so this is not an encouraging tour for either party. While part of the almost 10-acre building is neat and orderly around a set of loading docks that are still active, elsewhere the site is positively frightening. There are stacks of old tires, piles of thick foam, drums of chemicals and bales of shredded plastic warehoused in various sections of the building. In one huge area, we step around the detritus of an enormous garage sale. Stoves, dressers, jelly moulds, a dozen lawn mowers, bicycles, propane tanks, boxes of books and old toilets are strewn around. Pigeon poop leaves the floor slick in places.

A skid is stacked with boxes of glossy Harding Carpets promotional materials. There's what appears to be asbestos insulation hanging from some pipes.
Nearby are rows of chemicals cleaners in small containers, sitting with cans of paint.
Several skids have barrels of chemicals with warning signs on them. Glucamate is stenciled on one barrel, a chemical that turns out to be a fairly benign thickener for hair care and skin products. But the warnings on some of the foam prod the products are stronger: "Experimental material," says the red label on the rolls of foam, used as underpadding by carpet installers. "Do Not Dump!"



Several barrels of Thiokol sealant say "Do Not Dent Drum" on them.
"This is a toxic dump," says Friel. "There should be a new category for this Brownfield site.”
Charest, who has some experience cleaning up local Brownfield sites, shakes his head in dismay: "No one had any idea of the scope of the problem. If there was a fire in here, they'd have to evacuate the whole city.”
As we continue through the dark passageways, we see lights coming our way. Its several young men who are working in the plant. Working for whom? Working at what?
Not only is there no power, heat or water at the old Harding site, there isn't much prospect of getting any proper utilities in the site soon. The plant has been cannibalized,
with all the copper wiring gone and most of the light fixtures smashed. The heating system is gutted.
In the hidden courtyard of the old plant, there are eight or nine vehicles in various states of mutilation. The police confirm that they closed a chop shop operating on the grounds earlier this month. No charges were laid.
"We've hauled out everything we need for the investigation and closed the operation down," said Insp. John Bates of the city police.

Friel, fishing around in the interior of a couple of the cars, came up with insurance papers and registration slips for the stolen vehicles.
Nearby is the obvious “Chop Shop” work area with tools scattered on a makeshift workbench and dozens of sets of car keys in bucket and lettered across the floor.
Moving into the office area of the building, we find more smashed glass and heavy wooden entry doors at the front foyer pockmarked by vandals. Upstairs a mess. One corner has clothing and personal belongings crammed into it, in the middle of one office, someone has ripped down drapes and tried to start fire with them, right next to a children's hockey game placed on the floor.

“I am just overwhelmed,” say Charest over and over. "I had the impression we were dealing with a derelict, empty building. This will be the worst site we've ever tackled." Initially attracted by the high ceiling, enormous rooms that would be perfect for storage,
Charest is obviously questioning how he would tackle the project. "We can't just address the asbestos or security or lighting issues because the place is packed with stuff!"

King and Benton did the cleanup on 148 Mohawk St., 168 Colborne St. and 44 Elgin St.
"This doesn't compare to the other sites," said Charest. "There are tires and 100,000 square feet of wooden skids. If this place caught on fire..."

The same mental shudder has obviously gone through the mayor's mind. He's on his cell phone to the city's CAO Hans Loewig and the fire department about getting the building completely sealed to vandals and squatters before nightfall.
"There are mountains of foam here,” Friel explained, "and people appear to have been living here, so with the number of fires we’ve seen lately, we don't need any more trouble.”
When the fire prevention officers show up, they assure the mayor that things aren't quite as bad as they may seem.
The strong cinder block construction of the plant would help isolate any fire that does break out and the foam which constitutes such a large amount of the stuff stored there, is supposed to be flame resistant.

Back at the loading dock, the young men we saw are unloading more rolls of foam under padding. They say they work for a flooring company, but can't say that the firm is paying rent to, or how they manage to navigate the place using just flashlights.

At the end of the tour, Friel and Kings are obviously eager to assure Charest the city will work to help dean up the site.

No one, they say, should assume that King and Benton got some kind of sweet deal after seeing what the company will have to contend with.
"There's nothing sweet about this deal. We were never going to get the taxes out of this place and if everybody had seen the building, we would never have gotten an offer," says Friel.

"In fact," adds the mayor, gesturing at reporters, "if we had known what the place was like, we wouldn't have invited you guys here."