“You see, in this world there’s two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig.” – Clint Eastwood, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Early last week, I read a story describing reports of rashes and other ailments from residents of Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam, who also complained that their water smelled like gasoline. In short order, Navy officials investigated and quickly determined that the residential water contained “no measurable quantities of fuel.” As I read the story, I was reminded of a bit of sage wisdom a former battalion commander of mind would share when someone was trying to feed him a line of, well… bull@#$%: “I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night.” Even as I moved on from the article, I thought to myself, this won’t be the end of this story.
And it wasn’t.
The thing about bad news? It isn’t fine wine. It doesn’t get better with age. As the days passed following the initial reports, the news didn’t get better. The Hawaii Department of Health advised residents to not drink or use their tap water. As the national media picked up the story, the news continued to get worse. Finally, by week’s end, the senior leadership of the Pacific Fleet admitted during a virtual town hall that the water supply was contaminated with a petroleum product. They would be taking the steps necessary to restore the water supply to Environmental Protection Agency standards for safe drinking water and would be keeping the system offline until solving the problem.
THE GOOD
During our 28 years in the military, my family and I spent more than 20 of those years living in government quarters. From our first home – a small two-bedroom duplex in Werner Park at Fort Campbell – to our last home – a large four-bedroom home in Nez Perce Village at Fort Leavenworth – we spent our share of time living in the luxury of Army housing. I say that tongue in cheek. It was never luxurious, but there we have a lot of fond memories of those years.
Our housing decisions were typically driven by convenience. I preferred to be closer to work, and it doesn’t get much closer than living on the same installation where you work. That often allowed me to quickly clean up after physical training, to visit home for a quick lunch some days, and to reduce my work commute to allow for more time with the family. For my family, this also offered convenient access to the commissary and post exchange, schools, and after school activities. I could slip out of work, catch my son’s football game, and be back at work in just a couple of hours.
In theory, residing in government quarters frees you up from maintenance expenses. For the most part, this is true, although most residents invest in improving their quality of life. But when it came to major expenses – appliances, utilities, and construction repair – you could count on the government (or their appointed contractor) carrying the load. It didn’t always happen right away, but it happened. A new water heater, relighting the furnace pilot light in the middle of a winter night, or maybe pulling Buzz Lightyear out of the toilet drain. For us, the good always outweighed the rest.
THE BAD
But the quarters life isn’t always good. Through it all, even the bad didn’t always seem all that bad. Mice seem to have their own sets of keys to military housing. When we didn’t have mice, we had spiders. Lots of spiders. Some of that is a normal part of life. Infestations maybe less so. But no one should ever ask you to catch a live brown recluse so it can be positively identified. That should never be a pre-condition to sending the Orkin man.
In one set of quarters assigned to us, there was a two-inch gap along one corner of the foundation. We had a steady stream of visitors in our home, and the contract housing office repeatedly told us the problem couldn’t be fixed. After a lengthy encounter with the largest rat I’d seen outside of an Iraqi sewer, I filled the gap myself with fast-setting concrete and spray foam insulation. Problem solved.
There were other challenges along the way, but they were not unlike those found anywhere. Noisy neighbors, unsupervised children, or the annoying person next door who is always trying to sell you something (hint: if it isn’t Girl Scout cookies, you’re wasting your time… and mine). You like to tell yourself it would be different “outside the gate” but it isn’t. To be honest, it might actually be worse.
THE UGLY
But “worse” barely describes the ugly. What happened in Hawaii over the past weeks dwarfs in comparison to Camp Lejeune, NC, where toxic contaminants leaked into the water system over decades led to countless illnesses and deaths. It’s so bad that it has its own Wikipedia page. It’s so bad that the VA recognizes the dangers and maintains a registration page for exposed personnel and their families. The list of diseases associated with the drinking water is about as ugly as it gets.
When the military made the transition to privatized housing – where we lived in the same quarters we always had but paid a contract “manager” – we found a way to normalize the ugly. On paper, the transition made sense. Most things on paper do, after all. But, things don’t always work out the way we plan. With privatized housing, there was a little thing called “oversight” that any respectable contracting officer understands. Oversight drives accountability, and when you’re talking about something that affects a large percentage of your constituent population – military families – you want to be sure that accountability is in place. Somewhere along the way, we forgot to ensure oversight was in place when we cashed out our investment in military housing. And that’s where the ugly comes into this.
That lack of oversight led to a lack of action in response to complaints from residents. From rampant black mold to rodent infestations to lead paint, the complaints rolled in. A 2019 New York Times investigative report explained, “The privatization program has been plagued in recent years by widespread complaints about neglected or slipshod repairs, unsafe conditions and, especially, mold problems.” A lengthy and thorough Reuters investigation revealed a criminal malaise among housing contractors more focused on profit than the families in their care.
Lawsuits have followed, and in 2020, the Tenant Bill of Rights was signed into law. The fact that such a document was needed at all or that it had to become law to change the situation is a sad reflection on just how ugly things had become. Will brighter days follow? Task Force Ohana – led by the commanding general of the 25th Infantry Division – was quick to step in to address issues affecting the Pearl Harbor community, a sign of how serious service leadership takes such issues. But, like a Sergio Leone western, you just never know when things will go from bad to worse. Time will tell.
