Monday, Nov. 19, 1973

Leaking Electricity

Schoolteacher John Miller and a neighbor were painting Miller's barn roof at his farm near Lucasville, Ohio. Wham! The neighbor was almost knocked off his aluminum ladder by an electric shock. In the town of Franklin Furnace, Farmer C.B. Ruggles' son was riding his pony when--whap!--he and the animal were jolted, apparently by electrical charges in the metallic parts of the bridle and stirrups. A housewife in Lucasville turned on the tap to do the dishes--and zap!

The source of the troubles is the Ohio Power Co.'s new "extra-high-voltage" (765,000-volt) transmission line through southern Ohio. It is radiating so powerful an electromagnetic field that an unconnected fluorescent tube would light up. It is all very spectacular, but residents are not amused.

Utilities, on the other hand, are enthusiastic. They hail the 765-kilovolt line as one of their industry's great new developments. The lines not only carry up to 50% more electrical power than conventional 345-kv. or 500-kv. lines, but also lose much less energy in transmission from generating plants to cities--an important consideration in the growing energy crisis. So far, about 1,000 miles of such lines are in operation, mostly in the Midwest and Far West --with thousands more miles of the lines scheduled to be built in the next decade.

Before that happens, people who live along the existing 765-kv. lines feel that a few problems should be worked out. The main one is that the high-voltage alternating current sets up a powerful electromagnetic field that induces voltages and currents in any electrical conductor--generally metallic objects--within about 200 ft. of the lines. In addition, the field ionizes the air (ordinarily a good insulator) surrounding the lines, turning it into a fairly good conductor of electricity. That allows some of the current in the lines to leak off, creating a blue glow around the wires. This happens especially at points where the lines have a flaw (a faulty section of wire, a minor scratch, a coating of soot or pollen) and in damp weather, when air becomes a better conductor. The result: high-tension experiences for everyone in the vicinity of the line.

In a recent survey, 18 families living near Ohio Power Co.'s line reported being shocked by touching farm machinery, wire fences or even damp clotheslines. Two women complained of shocks received while on the toilet. Other complaints were bad TV reception and the sizzling sound of the electrical discharge. Said C.B. Ruggles, whose farm is split by the line: "You'd swear we were living near a waterfall."

While all this is annoying, there is apparently another, even more remarkable effect of the 765-kv. lines. Says Ruggles: "I've noticed that corn won't mature under the line. The ears come out, but they won't mature, and you have to chop them up for silage." In her recent book on the subject, Power Over People (Oxford University Press; $7.50), Physicist Louise B. Young gives one possible reason: the discharge of high voltages into the air can produce ozone, a form of oxygen with three (rather than two) atoms in its molecular makeup, and oxides of nitrogen. Ozone can oxidize or "burn" healthy tissue, and nitrogen oxides form nitrous acid and one of the major components of smog. All of these might well affect people and plants that live near the lines.

Ankle Chain. Electric utility officials insist that scientific tests show that the lines are not producing ozone or any other harmful effects. As for the shocks, simply grounding all buildings and fences near the lines will fix that. Schoolteacher Miller, for one, feels that this solution is impractical. When he finally went back to paint his barn, after it was grounded, the power company advised him to trail a metal chain from his ankle to the roof as an additional ground. Miller refused to do that, but, he says, "I painted very, very carefully."

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