TERRORISM Fears in rural America

In Irvine, Ky., fears stem from a depot that stores mustard and nerve gases.
CHICAGO TRIBUNE
IRVINE, Ky. -- Nature long ago turned this small eastern Kentucky town of 2,800 into an apparent refuge.
The Kentucky River ambles lazily along its southwestern edge. The Knobs, foothills of the Appalachian range, hug it tightly on the other sides. Streets dead-end into steep slopes. Highways twist and turn through the hills.
Two bridges across the river relieve the sense of isolation, but do not drive it away. Railroad tracks run along the river's banks toward the state's eastern coal fields, but the town's once-congested railroad yards have been severely cut due to economizing and job reductions.
Many workers in Irvine, Ky., drive an hour or more to their places of employment, then return at the end of the day to a place they regard as safer and less tense than any big or even medium-sized city. Few people are worried that a terrorist will launch a deadly attack here. And Iraq seems far, far away.
"A refuge? I think so," said Leah Williams, 39, a parole officer and an Air Force Reservist who served in Turkey during the 1991 Gulf War. "I think this area is remote enough. It's fairly untouched."
Terrorists wouldn't find much in Irvine to blow up, said Kenneth Snowden, 57, a retired railroader and a Vietnam veteran, in a comment that might apply to many of America's small towns. If terrorists came to town, it would be easy to spot them, he said. "We may have some crazy people here, but we know who they are."
Worries
But, as untouched as this area may appear, the war on terrorism is embedded deeply into the consciousness of many of its citizens and those who live in Estill County, of which Irvine is the county seat.
Some worry profoundly about terrorism. The same is true about America's entanglement in Iraq, though President Bush has strong support here.
Safety is a state of mind. Joyce Spicer, who lives on the outskirts of town with her husband, Chester, is haunted by the prospect of another attack that she says may be directed at targets much smaller than the World Trade Center or the Pentagon. It could be a mall in nearby Lexington or a high school football game here in her hometown, she said, and that could be even more terrifying.
"It's always in the back of your mind," she said.
Chester Spicer, a retired business manager, said he feels relatively safe in Irvine but favors more drastic military steps in the Middle East if there is another attack by Islamic militants. "If you are going to win a war, you have to go all out, it seems to me," he said.
Army depot nearby
Two other retirees, James Bergman, a minister and former college administrator, and Eugene Bush, a former insurance and banking executive, also feel safe, but both mentioned one potential problem that could affect the entire area -- the Blue Grass Army Depot, less than 20 miles away in Richmond, Ky.
The depot has large stockpiles of mustard gas dating back to the 1940s and deadly nerve agents GB and VX dating back to the 1960s. Irvine Mayor Tom Williams said his town is downwind from this facility. In the event of an attack or a disastrous leak, he said, he would be forced to evacuate the entire town to the next county.
An attack or an accident at the depot involving deadly chemicals "worries me the most," the mayor said. He and county officials have sought homeland security funds to buy equipment, including a firetruck, to be used in case of a chemical disaster. New sirens have been installed in town, and the mayor said each family could receive individual radio receivers to be alerted of a problem.
Trust in the military
Many in Irvine and Estill County seem somewhat relaxed about the danger of a leak or an attack, gauging that the Army is sensitive to the risk posed by a terrorist assault on the facility and has taken adequate steps to prepare for one.
"I guess the local people have worried about that for a long time," said Bush, the former insurance and banking executive. But he added that few people in adjacent Madison County, site of the facility, seem overly concerned about the depot, judging by the fact that the area "is growing by leaps and bounds."
The Army has worked closely with local officials to develop evacuation plans and a plan to dispose of the chemicals.
In response to criticism, the Army has decided against burning the chemical agents. Instead, it has signed a $2 billion contract with two of the nation's largest construction firms, Bechtel Corp. and Parsons Corp., which have formed a partnership to get rid of the chemicals through a neutralization process over the next eight years.