Lead And Your Kids

New research and an awareness that lead hazards touch people like the Tacklings of New London, Conn., as well as the Johnsons have helped prod the government into stronger action in the past two years. After years of delay, EPA in May issued rules attempting to reduce lead in drinking water. HUD has, for the first time, asked for funds to de-lead private housing, and is writing rules on how to improve a house through small, practical steps without ripping it entirely apart. One bill being drafted in Congress by Rep. Henry Waxman would require house sellers to notify prospective buyers of lead paint. The most important governmental action will be CDC's new guidelines for doctors and public-health professionals. But CDC faces a dilemma: how to make people more aware of lead's hazards without creating a stampede of hysterical parents. Health departments and medical labs could not now handle a surge in demand for blood tests. And outside Massachusetts or Maryland, few contractors are actually qualified to test and remove lead.

Over the next few years, parents' concern will likely rise faster than the understanding of what they should or shouldn't do. When Baltimore began publicizing lead hazards in the early 1980s, about half the poisoning cases treated by the Kennedy Institute resulted from houses that had leaded paint improperly removed. Marc and Cathryn Perrone of Milwaukee actually consulted an engineer to find out how to get rid of old lead paint safely. They decided on a heat gun. After they'd stripped most of the paint, they learned that heat guns were very dangerous. When they tested their kids, their daughter Miranda, then 21 months old, had a 33 jig/dl reading.

$70,000 job:

Mark Rosenbaum, a lawyer in Los Angeles, had already renovated his 85-year-old house when he decided to have his 16-month-old daughter, Samara, tested. The tests revealed a blood level first of 8 ug/dl and then of 12 ug/dl. The family moved out right away. Tests of the house showed lead dust on the floors and carpets, but the Rosenbaums couldn't find a contractor in all Los Angeles who knew how to remove the lead-based paint. "You go to the Yellow Pages for lead abatement and you might as well be looking for krypton abatement," he says. They flew in a licensed professional from Massachusetts. The cost: $70,000.

The Rosenbaums' experience was harrowing, but it should be kept in perspective. Research has shown that if the exposure to low doses of lead is halted early, parents can make up for most potential learning deficits through good diet and extra stimulation. It's unlikely that paint dust will really alter Samara's life. And Rosenbaum is lucky in another way. As general counsel of the American Civil Liberties Union in California, he was able to vent his anger by helping sue California for not testing enough for lead poisoning. But most families won't take such dramatic steps, or, for that matter, test their own children. The problem for them isn't lack of money or legal expertise. They simply don't realize-or can't believe-that the dust on their windowsill might be quietly stealing part of their child's potential.

A SILENT HAZARD