Connersville candidates, residents caught in fluoride flap

CONNERSVILLE — Conspiracy theories are swirling, politicians are waffling, teeth are decaying and a part-time magician is gulping down toothpaste just to make a point.It’s enough to make an outsider think there’s something in the water, a thought that couldn’t be farther from the truth.The issue gripping this eastern Indiana city is actually what’s NOT in the water: fluoride. Dentists desire it, a group of safe water activists fear it and city council candidates wish the whole subject would just disappear.It won’t. Connersville — population 15,550 — is the largest city in Indiana that doesn’t have fluoridated water. Statewide studies show the area has about a 20 percent higher rate of cavities than fluoridated communities, and area dentists say the level of tooth decay in children is striking.”Not only do they have more cavities, but it advances at such a fast rate,” says dentist John Roberts, who’s rallied for fluoridation for years. “It’s a real problem.”With city council elections looming, dentists and concerned citizens are insisting candidates take a stand on the issue.Enter Mary Hendershott and the opposition group, Citizens for Safe Water.She says the introduction of fluoride into public water systems is a government conspiracy, a massive public relations ploy that’s duped Americans into believing the stuff is safe. The truth? Big corporations and the U.S. government are disposing of toxic waste by slowly diluting it into drinking water.It’s an argument that’s been around in various incarnations since the 1950s. If Hendershott happens to be right, the more than 200 million Americans who drink fluoridated water are losing brain cells and developing brittler bones with each gulp, and the unfluoridated city of Connersville is suddenly one of the safest places in the country to live. As of late, it’s certainly one of the quirkiest.During a public meeting on the issue, Rusty Ammerman — a fluoride supporter and traveling magician — consumed an entire tube of fluoride toothpaste, just to prove it wouldn’t kill him (it didn’t).The anti-fluoride faction claimed the magician used some sleight of hand trick to switch to a tube of innocuous, nonfluoridated paste, thus disqualifying his allegations.”In all my travels I see all different kinds, and you realize that each town has its issue,” Ammerman says. “But it’s so embarrassing to think that places like Nimrod, Minn., have fluoride and we don’t.”The idea to fluoridate water systems came to fruition in 1945, when the city of Grand Rapids, Mich., agreed to be a test site. Following an 11-year study, researchers found the cavity rate among Grand Rapids children born after fluoridation had dropped more than 60 percent.Before long, fluoride was going into toothpaste and water systems across the country.Evidence of the program’s success is supported by a long list of major medical and dental associations. Last month, in fact, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta described fluoridation as one of the century’s most significant advances in public health.But Hendershott and her group — which she says consists of as many as 50 people — aren’t convinced. Rifling through boxes of books and papers, Hendershott notes the qualifications of leading anti-fluoridationists, many of whom are doctors and educators.”There is science outside the ADA (American Dental Association),” Hendershott says, fervently. “We choose to put our trust in scientists who don’t get a dime for their opinion.”She claims the ADA and other national organizations receive corporate kickbacks for their support of fluoridation.”There’s money behind it all,” she says.Sitting in his modest office, Roberts — one of many local dentists Hendershott calls “deceitful” — simply shakes his head and smiles.”The more they talk, the better we sound,” he says of his opponents. “I don’t know anything that’s been researched more thoroughly than fluoridation. And it’s never been found to cause any of the problems they claim.”About 98 percent of Indiana residents drink water treated with fluoride. The current Connersville campaign marks the third attempt at altering the city’s water. The previous two were quashed by naysayers like Hendershott.Though small in numbers, this group of iconoclasts has managed to plant a seed of doubt, troubling residents with claims that fluoride speeds cancer growth, is a main ingredient in rat poison and causes everything from hyperactivity to hip fractures. And don’t think for a minute they don’t believe their claims.Shirley McCoy, a member of Hendershott’s group, has scoured every bit of published anti-fluoridation material she can find. She flips through a book by noted fluoridation opponent John Yiamouyiannis, then points to a heavily underlined and highlighted segment that describes the government employee who started the fluoride conspiracy.McCoy has written notes along the edges: “His conscience must be seared,” and the shocked response, “Imagine.”This level of dedication has shaken not only residents, but campaigning politicians as well. On the eve of the election, most candidates still refused to take a firm stand for or against fluoridating Connersville.Virgle Carey, an outgoing councilman, sits in a smoke-filled downtown barber shop where a group of men are shouting “expert” opinions on fluoridation. Carey shakes his head, adjusts his baseball cap and looks away from the fray.”It’s the No. 1 issue around here,” he says, chuckling. “I’m sure glad I won’t have to deal with it.”