Asbestosis

Many years ago, when I rode with Ulysses, I met one of the women who worked at James Hardie in Carole Park, Brisbane. She was only in the office and no doubt did not have asbestosis, but she knew about it. I didn't ask her why she chose to work there. I wish, now, that I had.

One of the gentlemen in our village died last night. He had asbestosis, but many people within the village didn't even know about that. I did. He'd shown me the documentation from his lawyer. He had a claim which wouldn't even have been paid yet. He was the second person I'd met with asbestosis, and both of them had the 'disease which does not have a cure'.

Asbestosis is described by Oxford Dictionary as “a lung disease resulting from the inhalation of asbestos particles, marked by severe fibrosis and a high risk of mesothelioma (cancer of the pleura).”

According to the Australian Asbestos Network, the problems with the milling and use of asbestos started in the 1880s when asbestos was firstly used in Australia, but Australian asbestosis court cases didn't begin until the 1960s. They grew throughout the 70s and 80s as more workers were discovered with asbestosis, and some had mesothelioma. The website gives details of many of these cases. I recommend you read and become aware of this disease.

In a case study, “James Hardie and Asbestos”, LawGovPol (a reference site for teachers and students) noted that James Hardie had been aware of the issues with asbestos in the 1960s, but didn't introduce warning signs which had to go on their products until 1978. They didn't stop production of asbestos products until 1987. The case study lists some people who were diagnosed with asbestosis, took James Hardie to court and won their compensation. One person, Bernie Banton, who got $800,000 compensation, had been described in a disgusting manner by Tony Abbott, then the Federal Health Minister, as 'a “gutless creep” whose motives were “not pure of heart” '. Banton died very soon after his court case. I'm certain that no-one else would have thought of him as a 'gutless creep'.

James Hardie's history page on their website only mentions asbestos twice – after 1951 they “built up a diverse portfolio of building and industrial products businesses including a wide range of asbestos-based products” and “[i]n the mid-1980’s, [they] pioneered the development of asbestos-free fibre cement technology”. It read like they were just discussing with potential shareholders.

The LawGovPol case study said: “In 2004 the NSW State government held an inquiry into the company’s actions. The inquiry found that having pocketed the profits from asbestos product sales, James Hardie had a responsibility to pay all compensation claims, which may total as much as $2.2 billion. James Hardie executives, union representatives and governments began negotiating a plan to fund future compensation claims. In 2007 the company agreed to provide an additional $1.55 billion over 40 years.” By 2015 ABC wrote in their article that “James Hardie's contribution to an asbestos victims' fund is expected to fall by a third, even as the company posted a 12 per cent rise in profit.” It seems that James Hardie doesn't feel shame.

I believe James Hardie should have made the involvement with asbestos and asbestosis public on their history page. James Hardie still exists in Carole Park, Brisbane, today. So sad that people who ended up with asbestosis are dying, and James Hardie never acknowledges them.

I'd met Dom 4 months ago, when I moved in to the village. He told me when we met that he had asbestosis. Very soon he had what I called a PTSD – because I didn't, at that stage, know about his bipolar. He spent a couple of weeks lying on his bed, each day, every day. When he finally got up he seemed fine except for his breathing. He spent a lot of time in a wheelchair. I did quite a bit of PC work for him because his hands, especially his right one, shook far too much. Too much medication, I thought. Last month he was taken up to PA hospital and was kept there for just over a week. When he came back I only saw him once. I thought he'd gone to his daughter's home to stay for a while. She'd come in a couple of times, I thought, to pick up some of his clothes.

Last night I saw the ambulance parked outside my unit and I had an uneasy thought that they were back here for Dom. I watched outside my window as they put him on their stretcher. I didn't want to go over there to see how he was – I could see heaps of little blue spots all over his chest which were wired up to the heart machine. They wheeled him off, put him in the ambulance and drove him away. That was the last I saw him. This evening I was told by another friend who had been told by someone else who....

Vale, Dom. I miss you.