As energy concerns became paramount among national issues in the mid-70's, the public outcry against pollution declined. But problems do not disappear simply by ignoring them; pollution is still with us. Many powerful pollutants, or, more accurately, a number of industrial poisons, recently have found their way into the environment and ultimately penetrated the human body with disturbing regularity. Consider the following cases:

Over 25 asbestos workers have died from asbestos-related diseases in a plant in Tyler, Texas over the past five years. The body count may go as high as 200 (out of 900 asbestos workers in the plant) before the asbestos poisoning runs its course.

Over 75 workers in a pesticide plant at Hopewell, Virginia have been contaminated with the pesticide Kepone. Many are dying; fortunately, many others may recover. Experts contend the poison has leaked out of the plant, into the surrounding James River basin. Residents of towns along the river have consumed fish from the James over the years.

Another pesticide, Phosvel, has caused paralysis, hallucinations, blurred vision, and dizziness among employees in the Bayport, Texas plant that manufactured the pesticide. Banned from use in the United States, Phosvel was exported to Egypt where it caused death in humans and farm animals that came in contact with it.

As many as 150,000 people in the upper basin of the Hudson River have been exposed to a broad range of carcinogens in their drinking water. Although the amount of each chemical in the river is below the federal maximum, no one knows what effect this combination of chemicals will have on the human body.

Michigan residents has been exposed to low levels of polybrominated biphenyol (PBB) for the past four years. A more toxic relative of the federally-banned chemical PCB, PBB entered the Michigan food chain through state-distributed feed grain. Thousands of cattle and 1.5 million chickens have been killed or maimed by the disease. Others have been quarantined, dying slowly of PBB-related diseases. But many animals were sold before the state realized the danger. Over 10,000 people in the state, mostly farmers, now have traces of PBB in their bodies that exceed the danger level for cattle set by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). No one knows what the long range effects of PBB are, but many of the farm families are experiencing the same symptons that afflicted their ailing cattle.

No Place to Hide

These are only the most obvious of the myriad industrial dangers to which workers are exposed. One in four workers in the United States is exposed to some serious occupational hazards. The portion of the American public that comes into contact with hazardous substances leaked into the environment is not known. The level of most chemicals in the environment does not exceed the tolerance levels established by the FDA. However, many of these legally safe levels can become dangerous when they remain in the environment for long periods of time, penetrate the food chain and accumulate in the human body.

The PBB crisis may be the nation's worst. The Michigan Chemical Company of St. Louis, Mich., manufactured a feed grain additive called Nutrimaster. The company also produced a fire retardant, Firemaster, the only commercial product in the United States that contains PBB. In September 1973, several bags of Firemaster were mistakenly shipped with the Nutrimaster to the Michigan Farm Bureau for distribution to Michigan's farmers. Within weeks, cattle throughout the state began to sicken and die.

The state refused to recognize the problem, attributing the deaths to parasites, iodine poisoning and poor farm management. The Michigan Department of Agriculture told farmers withstricken herds that their problems were unique and that other herds did not display the disease. So the farmers sold their sick cows for meat or to be ground into more feed grain, and the PBB continued through the food cycle, eventually reaching humans. Chickens and milk products were also contaminated--chicken through the feed, and milk as a product of sick cows.

Finally, nine months after the initial shipment error, Frederic Halbert, one of the first farmers to receive the tainted grain, had a Master's Degree in chemical engineering, and used his training to pinpoint PBB as the source of his herd's ailments. Halbert, suspecting that his feed grain was impure, sent grain samples to state laboratories. The labs failed to find anything unusual, so he sent samples to labs outside the state, where researchers finally determined that the sample was laced with PBB. The FDA stepped in, setting the maximum level of PBB in cattle at 1 part per million (it was later dropped to 0.3 ppm). Last year, the state lowered the limit to .05 ppm for dairy cows being sold for meat.

During the nine months before government action, humans ingested high concentrations of PBB. Even now, however, PBB remains in the food chain. Floyd Jones, a dairy farmer, said last week, "I've got cattle that slowly die. They're extremely thin right now and they've got pus oozing out of abcesses. They're stiff and lame and not giving any milk, of course. They've been tested and they're perfectly legal to put on the market for consumption." His family does not consume anything the farm produces now, Jones added.

The feed poisoned more than cattle. Cats, rats, earthworms and even flies died on the farm soon after the first PBB grain shipment, Jones said. And it affected his family.

Jones said "Everyone in the family complains of fatigue and aching joints. Some of them have haddiarrhea, some had a skin rash."

He sought medical help, with few results. He said, "There are no doctors that know anything about PBB. Any farmer that has had it for years can do a better job of diagnosing than any doctor."