Why Mom said not to pick at scabs

As a Mother myself, I can remember telling my children the very same thing.

My Mother (and I) didn't want an infection to set in or a permanent scar to develop.

When I first learned about the potential zoning change for Limerick, it never crossed my mind that I would (figuratively) be picking at an old scab.

Too late.

It's open, again.

Back around 1972-73, I was one of the original protesters against the Limerick Nuclear Power Plant. The reason I have a ballpark date is because my then 2 year old son accompanied me to a large protest near where the plant now exists.

In those ancient days we had no computers or internet on which to share information, and most of us who rallied over that abomination being built in our backyard only had word-of-mouth communication on the subject. Sure there were newspaper articles and perhaps a few spots on the news, (and telephones, umhmm) but nothing like the instant communication we have today. Still, it wasn't too hard generating interest in the area to try to fight the construction of a nuclear power plant.

I resentfully remember some of the bits of information and rumors we passed around as though they were gospel truth. I also remember a two mile walk under a hot sun with about three billion bugs, but I'll get to that in a minute.

We "heard" that the Limerick site was chosen because "they" thought "they" would get less in the way of protests from us "hicks from the sticks" out this way compared to Bucks County or even Berks County. Imagine. We, however, figured we would show them a thing or two about how we galvanize folks out here in the sticks, and we did, too. We had several thousand people at the main protest, and many good people took up the fight.

About that two mile walk. Due to the scanty info on the protest that day, I only took a diaper bag along for my son and was not prepared for a hike. When we reached the area we were directed to park in fields. Jimmy was in an umbroller stroller, and I had wooden Dr. Scholl's flip-flops on. TWO miles I walked in those things. My feet were bleeding when we finally reached the staging area. Already exasperated and with my nose out of joint over hearing of the presence of many plant employees at the rally, I plopped on the ground with my son beside me loaded for bear or good speakers, whichever came first. Off to my right I noticed a man in a windbreaker with a camera facing the crowd. He would snap a picture, shift two inches, snap a picture, shift another two inches, step, and take a picture. Soon he was right in front of my son and me.

Somewhere in PECO's archives exists a photograph of a young woman who had just decided that a bear was in sight and at close range, and a small boy looking directly into the camera. This picture would probably be a bit distinctive. I am flipping a "bird" directly into the camera lens. That much I'll tell you. I won't repeat what I told him to do with the picture once it was developed.

But, we still lost.

Now, after all these years, the spectre of those twin towers still dominate our skyline from all directions, and those plumes are a constant reminder of which way the prevailing wind blows.

Long ago, the hopeful, optomistic side of me prepared a sort of "bug out" bag to grab in the case of an emergency, and a couple of years ago I decided to upgrade it from casual to serious. Just in case. I prepared a bag for each of my children, too, and explained what they should include in the way of last minute necessities from their homes. The Mom in me felt a bit higher comfort level knowing my children had a bug out bag at the ready. Now I only worry that they won't remember it.

That being stated publically for the first time, I should also note the pessimist in me. That side has a plan, too. Knowing the evacuation routes, and having some idea of the hundreds of thousands of people living and working in this area, realism rears it's head. Many times I've spent 15 minutes or more trying to get from one end of this little town to the other during heavy traffic periods, so I can only wonder if we would be gridlocked at a most inconvenient time.

The pessimist figures a check of Action News' traffic report would reveal a great deal about the local situation. A look through the eyes of the traffic cameras which are stationed just about everywhere, should show if the outward bound trip would grind to a halt long before we get out of Dodge. If that's the case, the crepehanger in me just wants stay put.

There's an bottle of Courvoisier XO in the cupboard just waiting for the right time to be opened. Before things start to glow around here, the windows can be thrown open, the world irreverently mooned, and a drink toasted to the healthy survival of those out first.

So now that the unhealed, old scab has been reopened, I would like to pass along the following link to a very interesting site I visit from time to time. It has nothing to do with nuclear power plants but I think you will find it an informative site to "Get an in-depth pollution report for your county, covering air, water, chemicals, and more."

http://www.scorecard.org/index.tcl

Mom was right about picking at scabs when we were kids.

As adults, a little selective self-surgery may be just the thing needed to spark the fire of citizen activism.

I'm glad I picked.

You should try it, too.