THE LAW The Price of Polluting

UNTIL RECENTLY, THE DALLAS PUBLIC Schools’ Environmental Education Center languished on 200 acres of marshy ground, just a searchlight’s beam away from the federal prison in Seagoville. A victim of reduced budgets, the dilapidated complex hosted 15,000 students each year, treating them to two portable classrooms, soggy nature trails, and some forlorn farm animals.

Then a federal jury convicted two Texas millionaires cf dumping toxic waste in a southeast Da las neighborhood. In what has been called a stroke of judicial genius, U.S. District Judge Jerry Buchmeyer handed down an unprecedented sentence and, in the process gave the un inspiring nature center a $6 millon shot in the ecosystem.

In March 1993, Robert M. Brittingham Sr. and John J. LoMonaco found themselves in federal court facing charges that their company had illegally disposed of 30,000 tons of lead-contaminated waste in an abandoned Dallas gravel pit. At the time of the crime the two men were the chairman and president, respectively, of Dai-Tile Corporation, one of the world’s largest makers of ceramic tile.

The pair had run afoul of a federal environmental protection law that, unlike most other criminal statutes, did not require the prosecution to prove criminal intent. All that was necessary for their conviction was proof the disposal did occur, something the executives ne”er denied. Believing their actions to be legal, they had sent marked Dai-Tile trucks to the site, in broad daylight, for almost seven years.

When the trial ended the following May, the men became the highest ranking corporate executives ever convicted of environmental crimes in the U.S. An attorney involved with the case summed it up: “There was no way they could win- and they didn’t.”

Although no evidence came forward showing the contaminated manufacturing waste had harmed anyone, prosecutors pushed aggressively for prison time–hoping to make an example of the pair and send a message to potential polluters across the country.

In reviewing the case for sentencing, Judge Buchmeyer admits being swayed by the men’s personal lives. “I knew any sentence I gave Brittingham {then 79) might be a life sentence,” the judge recalls. In addition, LoMonaco’s wife had just died of cancer, leaving him alone to care for their 8-year-old hearing-impaired son. “That boy had just watched his mother die slowly and terribly,” Buchmeyer says. “And then to be left without a father would have been unbelievably devastating.”

In the end, however, it wasn’t personal problems that kept the aging industrialists out of jail. It was Judge Buchmeyer’s shrewd assessment of their business acumen. “I knew,” he says, “we could either lock these guys up or find a way for the community to benefit from their money and expertise.”

Although prosecutors objected to his decision not to imprison the men, no one could say they got off easy. Buchmeyer imposed the highest possible fines and most unusual requirements ever assessed in an environmental case. In addition to five years’ probation and 8,000 hours of community service, the men handed over $6 million in fines to the government and paid $12.5 million to clean up the disposal site. Then, in a ruling unlike any other in U.S. judicial history, the judge ordered them to set aside another $6 million and personally develop a program that would “enhance the environment and benefit the children of Dallas County.”

(Buchmeyer’s unprecedented judgment stands to remain unique in judicial history: Since the time of the Dai-Tile decision, Congress has enacted sentencing guidelines designed to limit the discretion of federal judges in determining punishments. If Brittingham and LoMonaco came before the judge today, he would have no choice but to incarcerate them.)

Relieved from the specter of federal prison, the men set about finding a project that would satisfy the unique sentence and put their millions to work. After extensive research, the Dallas Public Schools’ Environmental Education Center won the judge’s approval. “They approached it like they would a new business,” remembers Buchmeyer, smiling. “They studied other nature centers and came back with their plan. The idea was fascinating. I didn’t understand the potential impact until we visited the center. It was absolutely marvelous. Here were these inner-city kids, out there petting this pitiful little goat, and they were loving it! I thought, ’You know- this just might work.’”

Buchmeyer realized that Dallas, like most large cities, has many children who rarely enjoy any kind of intimate experience with nature. Growing up in an environment of sidewalks and sandlots, most inner-city youth have never seen, in the words of the judge, “birds and buds and fish and grasses and trees all together.” In the proposal to the school district, Brittingham and LoMonaco emphasized their belief that, if children could visit the center and learn that there is a natural order to things, they might develop a greater respect for the value of life and conduct themselves accordingly. Just what the judge had in mind.

Today at the construction site on Bowers Road, shorebirds along the lake compete for space with cranes of a different kind. Scheduled tor completion in early September, the new center promises to be a world-class environmental wonderland for schoolchildren eager to meet Mother Nature face to face.

The site has undergone drainage improvements and additions to the nature trails. Through an agreement with Dallas County, students will also have access to the neighboring Post Oak Preserve, a 334-acre county park said to be the last remaining stand of virgin post oak trees in Texas. A new petting barn with an expanded array of animals is also planned.

The centerpiece of the new complex will be the 26,000-square-foot Learning Center. Once children arrive (on the center’s new school buses), they will enter this building for orientation prior to exploring the outdoor trails. Complete with a state-of-the-art theater and an enormous computerized globe, this area will give eager minds a perspective on the world environment, gradually narrowing the focus down to the United States, then Texas, and finally to the area around the Environmental Center itself.

Following orientation, students will sprint to the main room of the building, which is filled from floor to vaulted ceiling with separate settings carefully constructed to resemble prairie, pond, and forest-the three ecosystems surrounding the center. The interactive exhibits were created by Dallas-based Museum Arts, Inc. Why bring the outside inside? “We realized a substantial number of the students would not have had any previous wildlife experience,” explains Charles Paramore, president of Museum Arts. “This approach allows them to be introduced to the plants and animals in a safe and controlled manner.”

Joe Granado, the new executive director of the Environmental Center, believes the displays will be an important part of the educational process. “These exhibits make learning fun,” he says, “and if you make it fun for the students, they can learn anything.” In addition to the theater and exhibits, science labs and instructional areas have been added.

“The Environmental Education Center will be used for more than just field trips,” says Dallas Public Schools Supt. Chad Woolery. “We’ll also use it to help train students interested in environmental careers, and eventually it may be opened to the public after hours. ” Woolery seems as excited about the new center as its younger visitors will be. “We are absolutely thrilled with this opportunity to expand the program. The center will be a great asset to the district and its students. This was a wise decision.”

In Judge Buchmeyer’s chambers, prominently displayed among mementos of his 15 years on the federal bench, hangs a large illustration of the Environmental Center. When asked, the judge explains his pride in the results of the ruling. “This probably will have a more positive effect than any decision I’ve made. If just one child gets that spark and changes his life for the better, it will all have been worth it.”