The city of Greenwood, Indiana may be across a map-drawn border from the city of Indianapolis, but they sure do things differently there. A recent law was passed in Greenwood that prohibits its residents from throwing electronic devices into the garbage along with eggshells and coffee grounds. This law took effect on January 1st, 2011, leaving folks in Greenwood with no option but to hold onto their junk or find a techno-recycler to take it off their hands.
Hold the Phones
The original law, from which this provision is being enforced, was actually passed in 2009 when landfills and incinerators were forbidden as methods of disposing of electronics. The specific toxins that are the cause for such concern are lead, mercury, cadmium, hexavalent chromium and brominated flame retardants. They can contaminate our soil, water and air, and have to be disposed of in a more responsible manner, at least in Greenwood.
Pay to Play Nice
There are a number of sites throughout Johnson County at which one can drop off their electronics for the legally proscribed recycling process, but it’s not entirely a free service. While remote controls, computers and other equipment can be dropped off during regular hours for no charge, it will cost you $7.50 to drop off a TV set of up to 27 inches; anything larger than that will cost you $12.
Will this keep people from throwing their old electronics in dumpsters under the cover of darkness? Or hauling it across city lines to dispose of it in landfills that don’t care as much as Greenwood does about what they take? Or will people simply keep onto their old devices, leaving them for the bemusement of future archaeologist? Are the makers of new electronics devices on board with this fight to preserve the old stuff? Those are the kinds of questions that the City of Greenwood didn’t address – and good for them, by the way, for choosing to protect the environment over all of the predictable distractions.
The USS Indianapolis was sunk by a Japanese submarine on July 30th, 1945, just months before the grim conclusion of World War II, to which the ship’s crew had contributed mightily by delivering materials for the atomic bomb to Tinian Island. It wasn’t that nobody noticed that the Portland-class cruiser hadn’t arrived at port; due to the secretive nature of its mission, the Indianapolis was left off the books. So when she went under, taking 300 men down and casting 900 more into the sea, nobody seemed to notice.
The Stuff of Hollywood
Even if only from the monologue of Quint, the scary fishing boat captain played so well by Robert Shaw in Jaws, a good many people now know about the fate of the Indianapolis. Out of nearly 900 men who survived the torpedo attack, only 318 were pulled from the waters. Some drowned or died of exposure in the brutal elements, but an estimated 500 of them were eaten by sharks over the course of three and a half days before the men were spotted and saved.
Miscarriage of Justice
The last major warship to be lost in World War II, the Indianapolis was captained by Charles B. McVay III. Curiously, the U.S. Navy found him fit to be the only captain to court-martialed for losing a ship during wartime. They determined that he had not taken sufficient evasive action (specifically failing to “zigzag”), thereby placing his ship and his crew in danger. But even the Japanese sub commander later stated that such maneuvers would not have prevented him from slamming two torpedoes into the Indy’s starboard bow.
McVay was found on his lawn in 1968, having killed himself with his service revolver, a toy sailor clutched in his other hand. Although the Navy records have never been officially changed, McVay received an official Conressional exoneration in 2000, in hopes of reversing what many military and legal historians consider to be a miscarriage of justice. After all, even though a few of the victims’ families chose to blame him even long after the war had ended, the captain had spent every minute in those deadly waters with his men.