Battlefield, America

As the COVID-19 pandemic and contentious election season gradually wind down, it’s clear that we have a problem with unity in the United States. The term “Two Americas” has been floating around, describing our stark political divide or our regional gaps in COVID-19 vaccination (though I resonate more with Martin Luther King’s still-relevant use of the term to describe the economic realities of haves versus have-nots). On one side of the divide, there is a general sense of trust that government is not malevolent and that vaccines are safe, effective, and necessary. On the other side, a deep distrust is metastasizing: the last election cycle was illegitimate, the courts are unfair, the pandemic is a political issue, and the vaccine is a plot by big pharma to….control the masses or something. The Delta variant is spreading rapidly among the unvaccinated, who happen to be concentrated in this conservative side of America where even after a year and a half, the public is not well-informed about the dangers of and mitigation strategies against COVID-19. At the epicenter, my former home of Springfield, Missouri made headlines (including this poignant article from The Atlantic) as cases and hospitalizations exploded to levels not seen since the pandemic began, a heartbreaking condition that begs the question, “Why is this happening here?”

I lived for two years in the Springfield area (near a town named Battlefield for its Civil War past), and a unique small-world feeling exists there that makes things that happen in the outside world seem less relevant. Geographically isolated, Springfield is a 3 hour drive from both Kansas City and St. Louis, 2.5 hours from Tulsa, and 2 hours from the Bentonville-Rogers-Fayetteville area of northwest Arkansas. Political power is localized in Springfield, with smaller cities Joplin and Branson falling into its area code 417 orbit. There might be half a million people living in southwest Missouri, and the people who rise to the top have a sort of infallibility as Ozark elites. Johnny Morris, founder of Bass Pro Shops, has built a bona fide empire in the area, developing attractions like the Wonders of Wildlife Aquarium, Big Cedar Lodge, Dogwood Canyon Nature Park, and Top of the Rock golf resort that all bear his name. A number of other entrepreneurs/benefactors have achieved near-godlike status in the area, such as the O’Reilly family (of O’Reilly Auto Parts fortune), Jack Gentry (Positronic), Jack Stack (SRC Holdings), Bill Austin (Starkey Technologies), and David Glass (Walmart, Kansas City Royals). Much like the Walton family holds incredible power in northwest Arkansas, Springfield’s business elites have an outsized influence on local and regional happenings.

This influence trickles over into politics and public opinion. Anyone who’s anyone in the community attends James River Church, which espouses a Christian denomination best described as “capitalist evangelical.” Occupying an influential role in a city already isolated from outside politics, the church has promoted positions from conservative to just wacky. The church has stood vocally against any COVID restrictions – masks, shutdowns, virtual schooling, vaccine mandates – subverting the civic institutions that were simply trying to follow public health guidelines from federal and state agencies. The church has also supported the false narrative that the 2020 election was stolen, delegitimizing government in a locale that already has somewhat of distaste for outside authority. Anger is running at an all-time high, exemplified by the aggression of COVID patients against healthcare workers (this was already an issue for my Filipino nurse friends but only increased with this deadly ‘hoax’ virus). While Springfield might provide the perfect combination of low vaccination rates and lax public health measures for COVID to wreak havoc, I predict that the Delta variant will have a similar adverse affect on other conservative, anti-establishment leaning places like Texas – though I certainly hope that I am wrong.

Can places like Springfield be brought back into the fold as the nation moves beyond the 2020 election and pandemic? Open dialogue and data-driven decision-making may be increasingly liberal ideals, but I still believe that even the most conservative folks are open to accepting new information if it can help restore the stability that practically everyone wants. Healthy skepticism is a central tenet of people in Missouri, nicknamed the “Show-Me State” because “frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies” its conservative citizenry. But I hope this open dialogue happens, not least because the Springfield area has a lot going for it. Springfield has the lowest cost of living of any metropolitan area over 100,000 people, making it an excellent place to start a family or a business. Between Springfield and nearby Branson, there’s a full slate of attractions, two regional airports, and fun outdoor activities – without the crowds of Texas or the coasts. Most importantly, the people that I met in Springfield have some of the most generous hearts; for example, when the Joplin tornado hit in 2011, Springfield came together with an outpouring of donated resources and volunteers that outlasted the FEMA response and solidified the Convoy of Hope as a major nonprofit presence worldwide. For these people, who took me in as a young volunteer then later as a new community member, I sincerely hope for a swift end to the pandemic and a return to civility for a more unified future.

A Different Kind of Code

This segment of the blog is usually dedicated to the various aspects of my tornado modeling project: researching physical property relations, sifting through radar and sounding data, learning geographical analysis techniques, and eventually writing Python code. Since moving to Texas, however, that project has moved to the back burner while I’ve been more concerned with a different kind of code. As the engineer overseeing the construction of a blending facility for hand sanitizer and other sanitation products, I’ve had to ensure that the facility complies with all federal and local codes. This is a large undertaking, especially since I had very little background in this aspect of engineering design. Luckily, we hired a few consultants to guide me through the process of reviewing the myriad regulations, applying for permits, and directing the site renovation, a process that nearly a year after my hiring is still ongoing.

To transform the old metal fabrication warehouse into its new hazards occupancy, we had to first submit a permit application to city hall. Within the city limits, all new development must follow the 2009 IBC (International Building Code), 2009 IFC (International Fire Code), 2008 NEC (National Electrical Code), 2009 IMC (International Mechanical Code), 2009 IPC (International Plumbing Code), 2009 IECC (International Energy Conservation Code), and all relevant OSHA and ADA/TDLR employee accessibility standards. The City outsources permit reviews to a third-party certification company, Bureau Veritas, since it’s hard to come by the requisite code experts in a town of 2,500 people. Our submittal took about 6 months to compile, including full-scale blueprints for architectural, fire protection, mechanical, electrical, plumbing, and demolition.

The code-required improvements were diverse and extensive. The building was surveyed, drawn up in CAD, tested for asbestos, and zoned based on each area’s projected use. Our flammable liquid hazards occupancy (H3) is limited to about 15,000 square feet, so a 1-hour rated firewall will be built between the processing area and my office (I’m happy about this requirement!). Fire code also outlines how much of each classification of flammable, combustible, corrosive, explosive material can be stored in each room, on a racking system with a precisely calculated flow of sprinkler water available through individual sprinkler heads aimed at each pallet/tote on the racks. To be installed in the roof are five UL793-listed trapdoors that automatically open during a fire to exhaust smoke and heat. A 4-inch tall containment barrier will be constructed around the perimeter of the H3 occupancy to prevent chemical releases and contain the sprinkler volume. Smoke alarms, sprinklers, and the overhead door traversing the firewall will tie into the building controls system. Safety ventilation of 1 cfm/sqft is required throughout the hazards occupancy to prevent the accumulation of flammable vapors. The electrical code specifies distances from process equipment where classes of non-sparking and/or explosion-proof electrical devices are required to prevent the ignition of such vapors. Even before any process equipment is configured, our preparation for any kind of incident is explicit and exhaustive.

But that’s only the safety component of the facility design….there’s a lot more. The FDA good manufacturing practice (GMP) regulations specify materials for storage and process implements, down to the grade of polish on stainless steel and the cleanliness of air in the processing/packaging areas. Our bottling line will be in an ISO class 9 clean room to limit contamination – a freestanding room with wipeable, vapor-barrier walls and climate-controlled, HEPA-filtered air intake. All HVAC systems must be installed/balanced to follow mechanical code, and any climate-controlled space must be insulated per energy code. New eyewash stations and safety showers must be plumbed into the service water and sewer systems per plumbing code. Finally, we had to check our egresses per the building code, cutting several new doorways in the exterior wall so that every point within the facility is located within 75 feet of an emergency exit. Stripe the driveway with a fire lane and a parking lot meeting minimum parking requirements. Replace the front door and stepped landing to make the offices handicap accessible. Install new lighting and signage to illuminate our driveway and indicate hazards.

Is this complete overhaul excessive? Possibly. My company’s board of directors certainly thinks so: after all, Texas is supposed to be a pro-business utopia, unimpeded by regulations and government interference. However, a number of high-profile accidents have occurred in Texas chemical plants, in part due to weak enforcement by the state and local governments. The fertilizer plant explosion in West, Texas that killed 15 in 2013 is a particularly harrowing example of how devastating the lack of safety oversight can be in my industry. That plant was cited by OSHA, TCEQ (Texas’s EPA), and the Department of Transportation for storage violations, yet no changes were implemented after fines were levied. A similar story followed the deadly fire at TPC near Beaumont in 2019, as compliance recommendations were not followed once inspectors left. Without the fear of code enforcement, our board was prepared to store highly flammable alcohol in a single-walled fiberglass tank, a gross safety violation that they would’ve gotten away with if not for the city’s permitting process. Instead, we will be storing alcohol in steel tanks following API 12F and UL 142 standards (I hardly mentioned the role of trade organizations in steering regulatory policy, but in the absence of a unified code they are instrumental in standardizing safe practices).

To see the value of building codes generally, we need look no further than the tragic aftermath of the condo collapse in Miami (which, incidentally, also ignored the recommendations of an inspection, in 2018). That particular building was constructed prior to Hurricane Andrew, which brought a wave of code improvements for hurricane resilience. Likewise, towns like Moore and Joplin that have been affected by devastating tornadoes have implemented codes that mandate hurricane clips and other wind-rated construction strategies. I never thought that I would become intimately familiar with this area of the law, but I am grateful to have learned code from the broad scope of safety systems design. And I have a new appreciation and hope for the continued improvement of these codes that work in the background to preserve our lives and property.