False Alarms

In the aftermath of anthrax attacks, the Postal Service walks a fine line between caution and chaos.

Since deadly anthrax bacteria was sent by mail in October 2001, a trail or puff of any white powder has been cause for alarm. "The aftermath of the anthrax mailings has created an unbelievable sensitivity within the organization," says Zane Hill, the postal inspector in charge of dangerous mail and homeland security. Hill refers to "10/01" the same way other Americans say "9/11.'

The U.S. Postal Service faces legal action for failing to act faster after the contamination of Washington's Brentwood postal facility, renamed the Joseph Curseen Jr. and Thomas Morris Jr. Processing and Distribution Center in honor of the two employees killed by anthrax.

Since late 2001, the Postal Service has received more than 20,000 reports of suspicious substances, all but a handful of which were false alarms. Postal inspectors are charged with ensuring the safety of mail. But in doing so, they also must avoid overtaxing local first responders, spreading their own resources too thin and unnecessarily slowing delivery. The high volume of incidents forces them to walk a fine line.

The Postal Service already has spent $384 million on emergency preparedness. It is requesting a fiscal 2005 appropriation of $779 million to recover those costs and provide an additional $395 million.

Before anthrax, the inspection ser-vice-the law enforcement arm of the Postal Service-focused mostly on mail bombs, mail fraud and illegal mailing of things like drugs and child pornography. "All of a sudden, we've been thrust into emergency preparedness," says Molly McMinn, a postal inspector.

In the past, leaks and spills in mail facilities were investigated by postal operations staff. They would try to identify the source and the material, often by calling the sender or addressee. "If it didn't have some indication that it was potentially harmful, then they could have cleaned it up," Hill says.

In Memphis at the time of the anthrax mailings, Hill saw a change in how postal workers and the public viewed mail. "People were scared of the mail," he says. Late 2001 was chaotic. "Inspectors were working around the clock. We were closing facilities left and right."

During the day, postal workers called 911 to report powders or troublesome packages; local first responders notified postal inspectors. Facilities were evacuated and hazardous materials crews sent in. Then, around 5 p.m. or 6 p.m. each day-as people got home from work and checked their mailboxes-came a flood of calls reporting suspicious mail to 911 or the inspection service's 24-hour hot line.

At one point, workers at a mail-processing plant in Chattanooga, Tenn., spotted substantial amounts of white powder on equipment. No one could tell where it had come from, and it had already gone "downstream" to other post offices by way of mail and equipment. From the reports Hill received, the scenario didn't fit the pattern of the anthrax attacks; there was far too much powder. "We would have liked to be able to [investigate] it the way we've done it in the past, but I don't think we'll ever be able to take that approach again," Hill says. Postal workers called 911, and a hazmat team took charge of the plant, which shut down for more than 24 hours. "Until you find out what it is, you've got to make sure everybody's safe," he says.

Neither trained nor equipped to handle anthrax, postal inspectors remained outside, using radios to direct the hazmat team to danger zones inside the large building. "It was evacuated, it was secured, and the only people who were allowed to enter were hazmat responders who had the full respirator equipment," Hill says. The white powder turned out to be harmless talc used to keep printed pages from sticking together. But the episode stuck with Hill as an example of how the inspection service needed to better handle such situations.

As the weeks bore on after the October 2001 attacks, the inspection service gradually changed the way it responded to reports of "suspicious" mail that did not leak powder or have other threat indications. Instead of sending an inspector to investigate every call, the service began screening for more legitimate concerns. It advised worried callers simply not to open letters that lacked a return address or were sent from outside the United States. If they didn't feel comfortable throwing away such mail, the inspection service would arrange to pick it up. "We want people to be vigilant, but they weren't using common sense," McMinn says.

At the same time, the Postal Service developed a system for responding to leaks and spills. Workers inform supervisors, who isolate the area and call the inspection service. Inspectors attempt to link the material to a package and to contact the sender and addressee. This clears up about 90 percent of reported incidents. (Inspectors must take the explanations they get at face value, Hill says, because there aren't enough public health laboratories in the country to handle the volume of tests the service would otherwise require.) If inspectors can't determine what the substance is, they close the facility and call in a hazmat squad.

Hill came to Washington a year after the anthrax attacks to fill a newly created role as Postal Service vice president of emergency preparedness (since renamed dangerous mail and homeland security). He hasn't forgotten that day in Chattanooga back in 2001.

Under his direction, the inspection service launched a new training system, including instruction in biohazard detection, forensic sampling, hazardous material crime-scene processing and mail isolation, control and tracking. The goal is to have 200 inspectors-10 percent of the total-fully trained and equipped to aid hazmat teams in most emergencies.

Hill didn't begin his career in the postal inspection service with the intent of playing defense in biological warfare. "Five years ago, if you had told me that the inspection service would be headed in this direction, I wouldn't have believed you," he says. But it's part of the job. "It is our infrastructure. We're charged with the protection of it; we're charged with investigating crimes within it."