Irradiated beef: What's not for dinner; Milford Township food plant ends use of cobalt May 1, 2005 Sunday By Steve Wartenberg Of The Morning Call Judy Szela had no idea she was about to become a key figure in the successful fight to rid Milford Township of a nuclear irradiator and slash the national demand for ground beef zapped with gamma rays. "I had never even heard of an irradiator back then," said Szela, 52. "I didn't even have a computer." In spring 2003, word spread that CFC Logistics sought a license from the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission for a cobalt 60 irradiator at its AM Drive cold-food storage facility in Upper Bucks County. "I heard about it and called my sister in Germany," Szela said. "She looked it up on the Internet and called me back and said: "Oh my God, you're in trouble.' " Szela -- a nonpracticing psychotherapist -- immediately bought a computer, the primary tool of political activists. Minutes after it was out of the box and connected, she began her full-time job as an anti-irradiator crusader. "I can't tell you how many times I woke up at 2 in the morning, and she's on the computer, e-mailing people all over the world," said her husband, Phil Stein, 56, a dentist. He also was active in the fight, but said he was a slacker compared to his wife, who was obsessed with the crusade. The couple has spent more than $10,000 -- and counting -- and founded Nocobalt-4-food and joined the global effort to persuade consumers everywhere not to buy irradiated beef. Another local group, Concerned Citizens of Milford, tried -- and failed -- to stop CFC Logistics in the courts. "I had never been involved in anything before," Szela said. "But this was so wrong." On Monday, all the hard work paid off. CFC Logistics, which received its NRC license Aug. 27, 2003, and soon began irradiating products to eliminate bacteria, announced it had closed its irradiator. CFC Logistics President Jim Wood said the facility worked perfectly and that irradiated beef is safe to eat, but "the demand is just not there." Because of the efforts of grass-roots groups across the country, led by Public Citizen and local activists such as Szela and Stein, consumers have so far said "no" to irradiated beef. "There is a big movement against irradiated meat that has had an impact on the market," said Wood, whose company's cold-food storage business continues to thrive. Ron Eustes, executive director of the Minnesota Beef Council, said 18 million to 20 million pounds of ground beef and poultry were irradiated in 2004, most of it ground beef. This represents a minuscule fraction of the 9 billion pounds of ground beef that Eustes said are produced annually in this country. "I was in shock when I heard the news [that the CFC Logistics irradiator was closing]," Szela said. As the phone began ringing nonstop and e-mails from around the world poured in offering congratulations, the shock was quickly replaced by sheer joy. "You can make a difference," Szela said. "A lot of people said we were wasting our time, that you can't stop this. But we did." Irradiation In 1999, the U.S. Department of Agriculture approved irradiation as a safe way to kill E. coli, salmonella, parasites and insects in raw meat and poultry. Several other countries and organizations, including the American Council on Science and Health and the World Health Organization, say irradiated meat is safe. The CFC Logistics irradiator used gamma rays from cobalt "pencils" at the bottom of a 20-foot, water-filled well to irradiate food and nonfood products. Many other organizations, led by Public Citizen, believe irradiators themselves pose a danger and that irradiated beef is harmful to consumer health. Public Citizen officials say irradiated meat has not been studied enough, has caused myriad health problems in laboratory animals and leads to the formation of potentially dangerous chemical compounds. In early 2003, the USDA approved the use of irradiated beef in the National School Lunch Program. This was a big reason why, Wood said, CFC Logistics decided to get into the business. The irradiated beef market seemed poised to take off, and CFC Logistics, within sight of the Quakertown interchange of the Turnpike, planned to be part of the boom. "You shouldn't be in business if you're not willing to take a risk," Wood said. The fight Szela and Stein, with the help of officials from Public Citizen -- which was branded "outside agitators" by Milford Supervisor Charles Strunk -- were two of the founders of Concerned Citizens of Milford. It was formed in spring 2003, and Stein was the first president. Soon anti-irradiator signs and stickers began appearing on the lawns and cars of Upper Bucks residents. Milford meetings were suddenly filled with angry residents and on July 16, 2003, about 400 people packed the auditorium at Quakertown Community High School as members of the NRC came to try to calm their fears. If anything, the 400 left even angrier. "Put it in your back yard," someone in the audience shouted at the NRC officials -- and the crowd cheered. Szela made an unsuccessful bid for supervisor in 2003, running on an anti-irradiator platform; she and Stein left Concerned Citizens to form Nocobalt-4-food (www.nocobalt-4-food.org) soon after. "They wanted to go after the legal issues," Szela said of Concerned Citizens' plan to try to have either the NRC or courts take away CFC Logistics' license to operate the irradiator. "The legal fees were adding up, and it didn't make sense to us," Stein added. National issue "We need a million Judys," said Caryn Hartglass, executive director of EarthSave International. While there may not be a million Judys yet, there are hundreds of people and scores of large and small organizations across the globe fighting irradiators and irradiated beef. Nocobalt-4-food is now part of EarthSave, a registered nonprofit organization that promotes healthy food choices. This means donations to Szela's group are tax deductible. "She did a great job of having events and educating people," Hartglass said. "It apparently worked. The only way to change things is by individuals getting information and making changes; governments don't make major changes." Patty Lovera, a Public Citizen spokeswoman, said Nocobalt-4-food is a small but important cog in the machinery of change. "Once the facility was built, a lot of people would have thrown in the towel," Lovera said of Szela. "But she kept reminding people it was there, and there were other ways to think about it." Wood is not convinced Szela and Nocobalt-4-food had much of an impact on the sales of irradiated meat. "They were a nonentity," he said. "It was Public Citizen. They do a great job ... creating controversy and scaring people." Eustes said Public Citizen "propagated half truths, outright falsehoods and has done a tremendous disservice to consumers." School lunches Keeping irradiated beef out of the National School Lunch Program is the No. 1 goal of Public Citizen and Nocobalt-4-food. According to Eric Peterson, spokesman for the School Nutrition Association, which has 55,000 members, no school district in the country has ever served irradiated beef. One of the key issues, he said, is the cost. "Originally it was thought it would be 8 to 10 cents a pound higher, but it came in at 30 to 50 cents higher," Peterson said. "Our sense is until the price comes down it won't be an issue." Marcus Brownrigg, a USDA spokesman, said there was interest from school districts in Texas, Minnesota and Nebraska in 2004 for about 100,000 pounds of irradiated beef, but ultimately the price was too high. In 2004, he said, the USDA ordered about 55 million pounds of nonirradiated ground beef for its National School Lunch Program. Quakertown Community School District Superintendent James Scanlon said serving irradiated beef is not an option. "Our school board didn't want to go near that issue; everyone was so emotionally charged." Irradiated beef In 2004, Dairy Queen experimented with irradiated beef, serving it at 130 locations in Minnesota, Albuquerque, Buffalo and Erie. "Our customers accepted it and didn't have a problem," Dairy Queen spokesman Dean Peters said, adding a customer survey revealed 95 percent would return at the same rate or more for irradiated burgers and 50 percent were willing to pay an extra 5 or 10 cents. The company was set to expand the experiment, but the irradiation company it used, Surebeam Corp., went bankrupt. "They had spent millions on this gorgeous facility and were only at 10 percent capacity," Peters said. "The technology is way ahead of its time from an acceptance standpoint." The ground beef sold by Omaha Beef has been irradiated since 2000. "Our president, Bruce Simon, has two little girls and he said he could never live with himself if a child got ill or got E. coli from one of his products," company spokeswoman Beth Weiss said. She said customer reaction has been positive and sales of ground beef, a small portion of the company's annual sales of $360 million, has slowly risen. Eustes said the USDA is poised to approve irradiation for ready-to-eat meat products such as hot dogs and lunch meat and that the irradiation of imported fruits and vegetables could become a huge market. Fight continues Szela and Stein came up with the idea for Anti-food Irradiation Week and held their first rally Nov. 23, 2003, at their old stone home on the banks of the Unami Creek. About 200 attended, including members of the Lenni Lenapi tribe. "We demand that our food is clean, and there is no way we will give [irradiated beef] to our children," Jim Beer, a Lenni Lenapi tribal leader, said at the event. "We must kill the demand for this food." The rally was held again in November 2004 and the third is scheduled for Nov. 20. Anti-food Irradiation Week events have spread from Milford to Australia, the Philippines, Canada and Europe. "We have met so many wonderful people," Szela said, adding she has an e-mail list of more than 500 people. "We're now part of a larger movement, not just in this country, but all over the world." Szela and Stein intend to keep fighting. "Just because this irradiator is gone, doesn't mean another one won't surface," Stein said. However, after two years of nonstop effort, Szela said she'd like a little time off to "clean my house and maybe take a little vacation." Stein laughed. "Till the next e-mail."