Polk County Tennessee
Worst-ever tragedy
Fireworks plant explosion

1984 -- On a calm, peaceful Friday morning, Polk County suffered a tragedy that shattered a family and had local, state and federal authorities rushing to the scene.

A horrendous explosion ripped apart an illegal fireworks manufacturing plant. Eleven people were killed instantly, their bodies literally torn apart. One worker miraculously survived, despite being blown more than 300 yards away by the force of the explosion.

The survivor said he felt the heat and a rush, and later woke up in the hospital.

The extended family of property owner, who operated a Bait Farm on the property as a cover for the manufacture of the illegal explosives, was decimated. All 11 victims were related by blood or marriage ... one of the reasons the six-month operation had remained a secret from authorities.

Included among the victims was a mother and daughter; a husband and wife; and mother, brother, and uncle of the property owner.   Several of the victims lived in Cleveland.

The explosion was heard across the region, even in downtown Cleveland.

Polk County Chief Deputy James Burris was at the Polk County Jail in Benton, where the blast shook the walls. He was among the first to respond to the scene. "I haven't seen an explosion like this since my days in Vietnam," Burris was quoted as saying.

Investigators said it was inadequate to refer to the M-80s and M-100s as fireworks. According to the experts, an M-80 is equivalent to a quarter of a stick of dynamite and can be quite destructive and lethal.

It is believed that all 12 workers were in the two-story building, where one of the victims was using an electric drill to stir the components of the powder used in the manufacture of M-80s. The compounds included potassium chlorate, aluminum powder, sulphur and sodium celicitate. The drill probably sparked, ignited the powder, and all 11 victims died instantly.

The survivor was upstairs, in the far end of the building, and was identified as another relative.

The explosion hurled thousands of M-80s across the property, and were a risk to those responding to the scene. They were later gathered up and destroyed in a nearby pit. Investigators were amazed that a building less than 30 feet away from the destroyed structure housed 172 boxes of M-80s and M-100s ... that did not detonate. There were 15 pounds of explosives in each box, more than 2,500 pounds of very volatile material.

The property owner was out of the state at the time of the blast, believed to be delivering some of the explosives that had been manufactured in Benton. His wife and brother were taken into custody as material witnesses. The owner returned on Sunday and turned himself in to Polk County authorities, where he was charged with 11 counts of manslaughter.

Polk and Bradley County law enforcement and emergency service personnel arrived quickly at the scene following the blast, but the bait farm became a federal crime scene within hours.

The owner had entered guilty pleas in state court to the 11 counts of involuntary manslaughter, and a guilty plea in U.S. District Court to manufacturing explosives without a license. He was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment and fined $10,000 in federal court.

 

Pawnee County
Few signs of fireworks tragedy remain

-- It's been years since a series of explosions at a fireworks plant near this small Pawnee County town killed 21 of the 25 people working there.  Still, the silence surrounding the tragedy remains deafening.  ''It's not something people bring up. It's so tragic they just don't talk about it a lot,'' said town Clerk, who heard the explosion while cleaning a home in Oilton, about six miles south of the plant.  And while a trip through town may reveal nothing about the physical and psychological destruction that plowed through the community on June 25, 1985, many remember the horror of that day all too vividly.  One firefighter, who had previously served in Vietnam, said the explosion at the Aerlex Corp. plant ''was worse than a napalm strike.''   Local businessman and rural Fire Chief  was one of the first on the scene and said the visual impact of the explosion was too much to process.  ''You really didn't know what you had,'' Frick said. ''There was fire and debris all around. I remember a gentleman kicked the ground, because he had lost his wife.''   Before a single spark set off the furious explosions, the work day at the Aerlex manufacturing plant had started out peacefully. Its workers -- many of them teen-agers looking to make some summer money -- came from Jennings, Terlton and Cleveland.  With Independence Day less than two weeks away, the pace at the plant was brisk.  According to news reports at the time, plant manager noticed plant workers in the back of a pickup unloading barrels full of explosive ingredients used in large shells and rockets.  He reportedly saw a worker pick up a can and jump out of the truck bed. The can apparently scraped the edge of the truck, causing a tiny spark that instantly ignited some spilled flash powder.  The inferno spread almost instantaneously, reports said, first blowing up an assembly building and jumping to nine other buildings. Reports indicate that the 21 deaths were instantaneous.  One man claimed he survived after a blast blew him into a pond, where he waited out the deadly noise.  A woman  was a mile away, tending business at a Grocery, when the jarring noise was enough to make her think the Cold War had escalated right there in Pawnee County.  ''It rattled the windows, too,'' she said. ''It looked like a mushroom cloud.''  While the explosion was a painful shock, its impact reverberated long after the blast.  ''It hurt our business,'' she said, clearly indicating that the pain was deeper than financial. ''Of the 21 people who died, 18 were regulars. When you're a small business, you notice that.''   Aftershocks hit Aerlex, too. Three months after the explosion, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration cited the company for violating 13 regulations and slapped the owners with a $58,000 fine -- then the maximum allowed by law.  Survivors, victims' relatives pressed for criminal prosecutions, but failed. Civil cases were filed against the company, but some apparently still came up empty-handed. One survivor said he has received nothing in post-explosion settlements, despite suffering burns over 64 percent of his body and having to undergo skin grafts.  The Grocery stopped selling fireworks after the explosion.  ''It changed my attitude toward it,'' she said. ''After that, I sure wouldn't spend my money on fireworks.''