Editorials

A decade has passed since this community, amid controversy and strife, began dealing with the U.S. Army's decision to destroy Anniston's chemical-weapons stockpile near the base of the Choccolocco Mountains.

There would be no moving the weapons. The stockpile was here. This is where it would die.

Since then, this community — once bitterly divided over the best and safest method of destruction — has done its part. It has continued with the daily routine of Southern life as the Army built a $1 billion incinerator, endured the lengthy and snail's-pace process of permitting, and finally began destruction in August 2003.

For nearly five years, Calhoun County has lived with the reality that lethal munitions were being destroyed on its western edge. It has done so with the understanding that Anniston's incinerator would destroy Anniston's weapons — and then the incinerator, along with the chem-weapon legacy that's dangled from this community's neck, would be shuttered.

This community cannot become the Army's toxic trashcan.

When Anniston's stockpile is destroyed, this incinerator cannot become a dumping ground to which other U.S. facilities send their chem-weapon waste. Let those installations deal with their own issues.

It's no secret that the future of Anniston's incinerator and its high-tech roster of employees is a quintessential component of the city's next decade. One of the byproducts of the incinerator's existence — other than the weapons' destruction — has been the development of a talented, 800-person workforce that would be difficult to replace.

Their pay and unique training are important to the industrial and economic health of this county. And it's also no secret that when the incinerator's mission is complete, those workers face the reality of either taking their skills out of Anniston or looking for work elsewhere, and there aren't many employers in Calhoun County needing those specific types of technical proficiency.

Neither option is good for this community. It can't afford to lose talented, highly trained workers.

It remains years down the road, but the end of the mission for Anniston's incinerator will birth myriad issues; keeping those employees in the county is but one example.

But what's clear is that community leaders must be extremely careful in what ideas they propose for the facility itself. Yes, the incinerator is part of Calhoun County's industrial machine; it employs many of our neighbors, and does so well.

But the incinerator is no mere industry; it can't be seen as a factory whose jobs must be maintained at all costs. It is a high-tech facility built for one purpose — to destroy Anniston's stockpile, and to do so safely. Merging the county's long-term industrial health with the incinerator is a dangerous game to which residents here should not be subjected.

Calhoun County has lived with weapons destruction for years, and will for several more. Anything above and beyond that is asking too much of residents who've already given a great deal.