Folks living in
Socorro, in remote, central New Mexico, are regularly jolted by the
sounds of car bombs and calculated cave-ins. It’s all cooked
up by the Energetic Materials Research and Testing Center, a
division of the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology,
known here simply as “Tech.” “Energetic
materials” refers to anything that blows up, and since people
exploding bombs are making life miserable for the American military
in the Middle East and other places in the world, Tech’s
bomb-testing business is booming. Testing activities have gone on
for years, but people living in Socorro have been largely silent as
new schemes popped up. After all, it’s the town’s
biggest employer: At least 40 percent of the economy is tied to
Tech, making Socorro almost a company town. And of course, if you
moved here, you most likely knew what you were getting into.
But what’s the limit?
Schoolteacher
Loretta Lowman was painting her house last year when a big bomb
blast nearly knocked her off her ladder. The window-rattling
explosion rolled in from the backside of “M” Mountain,
a 7,300-foot volcanic remnant and landmark in this town of about
9,000. For Lowman, the blast lingered, bookmarked in her mind, and
quickly recalled when she heard about a new testing venture. Soon,
out there on the edge of its 40-square-mile “field
laboratory” a few miles behind the mountain, the U.S. Air
Force’s 58th Special Operations Wing, based in Albuquerque,
would start practicing dropping stuff.
Big, lumbering and
loud C-130s would be flying low, dropping supply packs,
ton-and-a-half pallets and maybe even paratroopers at night — not
just once, but hundreds of times during the year. This is called a
drop zone, where aspiring pilots train to support the
nation’s “war on terror,” according to an
environmental assessment on the plan.
The Air Force said
it wanted to move to Socorro because increasing civilian air
traffic limited use of drop zones near Albuquerque. An alternate
zone at an air base near Roswell also costs too much, it added —
about $122,000 per year. The environmental assessment didn’t
say what the Air Force might be paying Tech to use its land.
The proposed shift to Socorro has not been widely
advertised. In fact, neither of the community’s newspapers
initially reported on the proposal. The news was ferreted out by
local antiwar columnist Richard Epstein only a week before a
month-long public comment period ended.
That galvanized
Lowman and others to learn more about the proposal. They read that
each operation would involve 15 passes over the zone, at
ground-skimming altitudes of between 150-300 feet. C-130s hit the
noise meter somewhere between a lawnmower and a table saw, at
perhaps 15 to 20 decibels beneath the pain threshold.
Then, in December, a final environmental assessment was issued, and
its conclusion could be summed up as “no reason to
worry.” Sure, there will be some minor increases in noise,
and yes, a lot of planes will be flying low outside Socorro, but
there will be “no significant impacts to the human
environment.”
But unlike earlier projects proposed
by Tech, some locals continued to raise questions, and when they
showed up at a recent city council meeting, it appeared that some
Socorro officials were listening. “What would it take to stop
this?” Mayor Ravi Bhasker asked, expressing surprise at some
of the revelations.
Among the concerns is that the drop
zone is just the beginning. The Energetic Materials Testing Center
will soon seek a “special-use airspace” designation for
its entire 40-square-mile area. According to the environmental
assessment, this will enable it “to conduct …
air-to-ground gunnery” and blow up things that might project
debris thousands of feet into the air.
As opponents
divulged this information — freely available to the public — some
city council members seemed startled that anyone would question
what the military and Tech wanted to do behind the mountain. The
citizens’ group is diverse, including an artist, a rancher, a
right-wing columnist named Joy Miler who is at odds with
war-opponent Epstein, and even a Tech scientist.
It’s not clear at this point if the local outcry will have
any effect. But for starters, Socorro’s city council has
decided to flex some muscle and force Tech to explain this new
level of air-drop activity that’s planned painfully close to
its community.
Paul Krza is a contributor to
Writers on the Range, a service of High Country News
(hcn.org). He lives in Socorro, New Mexico.
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