Early Insulation Survives the Reagan Administration's Attack on Atheism, scoffs at Urban Redevelopment, saves The Hill District from Flightless Birds

During his stay in Pittsburgh as mayor from 1946-1959, David Lawrence did a lot to clean up this goddamn town. And he did this early environmental work while establishing ties across political chalk lines on the asphalt; he met many Pittsburgh billionaires (mostly Republican) halfway across the 3/4 inch line that signifies children's sidewalk chalk was used when these deliberators met to discuss citywide matters:

"What do we do about all of this smog?" asked Robber Baron Mellon.

"Let's throw everything in the rivers," answered Lawrence, walking that fine line without even a threat of smudge. "And while we're at it, outlaw coal-burning fireplaces in homes--In-home Natural Gas lines for everyone!"

"I'll sign that bill, but only if you bury a provision Banning Atheism deep inside."

In unison, the Pittsburgh locals responded, "Who the fuck would say such a thing? And why wasn't this quote attributed to anyone in the pages of history from which this blog post was born?"

Always the sneaky little weasel, Ronald Reagan authored that quote. Still an actor at the time, Mr. Reagan was merely reciting an oddly appropriately timed line for his latest film, the still prophetic, and eerily Nostradamic, "Mr. Reagan Goes to Washington." Pittsburgh's police force shot the Californian dead on the spot.

Reagan, sporting a period- and race-appropriate flat top, and the local Irish Catholic cops, were, of course, acting; the death was faked, and with his career cliffhanger leaning toward newness and reinvention, Reagan entered politics. Three and a half decades later, Reagan fulfilled his Former Life's Foretelling: He took the White House with the popular vote, living there for eight years, where in 1987, he, with all but The George Lucas Vote ("What about the Force as an alternative to Creationism?") outlawed Atheism in the United States. All of this I outlined in my children's story biography about Reagan, "Ronald Reagan: An All American (Atheist Abolisher)". 

Many folks beyond the Pittsburgh region don't realize that any of this even happened; after all, the Bible Belt grew notches and notches around this progressive beacon of intellectual bile, until it choked our godlessness out of us like a tube of tomato paste. Some of us puked it up, others swallowed hard and forgot; our bottled-up atheism emerged as cancers, racism, and a great need for pierogies. 

But Lawrence, whose preemptive battle against unproductive legislation, such as Reagan's attack on atheism, was well versed on dealing with such Potemkin Tour Guides. Reagan wanted to push all he saw as unsavory in the world under a facade of Christian Actor Utopia in an attempt to impress the Queen (who was later saved by the Sex Pistols' J. Rotten), while David Lawrence wanted to build a cleaner world through regulation, both in the factory and the home.

In the '50s, when Lawrence, as mayor of Pittsburgh, outlawed coal-burning stoves in townhomes, he was imagining what Peter Tosh would later repeat in Bob Marley's "Get up, Stand Up." 
"But if you know what life is worth, You will look for yours on Earth." Lawrence knew that heaven on earth wouldn't look like the shoulders under industry's black Coal Dust Dandruff. The outlawing of coal-burning stoves in Pittsburgh homes changed the air quality in the city immediately. It was like handing out ventilators to everyone in town, but cheaper and less fashionably obtrusive. As part of the city-wide changes, Lawrence partnered with Owens Corning, the building supply giant, to create pourus shingles that encouraged the mitosis of coal particles in the outside air through the roofing material, where the particles met NEW! OWENS CORNING BUILDING FIBERGLAS INSULATION, which trapped the particles for good. 

Kind of like an Ecto-Containment Unit for pollution, but without the intrusion of the EPA's Walter Peck. 
Lawrence used this environmental teaming to make some bigger moves in the literary and sports worlds: He married Rachel Carson, for whom he ghostwrote Silent Spring, the week after Pittsburgh's air was purified; and he watched from the Press Box as the Urban Redevelopment Authority OK'd the Pittsburgh Penguins destroying of the Hill District. (Reagan popped up again as the URA was writing Historic Racism through the Scapegoat of Development and tried ban the inclusion of Black Folks in Hockey, but lobbyists on both sides of the argument informed Reagan that "Black Folks just don't like Hockey." Reagan again tried to press the issue into law when he took Presidential Office in 1981, but decided to put more focus on upgrading Ketchup's status of 'condiment' to a fully recognized 'vegetable.')

But here I am now, in 2009, with some NEW! FIBERGLAS that has grown old. The trapped coal dust, whose capturing from the air has saved millions of Pittsburghers (so they could, in turn, leave for the Sun Belt or other economically thriving regions), is now harmless, the equivalent to depleted uranium in the hands of pacifists. But it's still so filthy! What do I do with bags of Used Coal-Dust Containment Fiberglas? And when I say bags, I mean an entire attic floor covered in bags and bags and bags. And bags.

Does anyone know of any Spent-Up Insulation Recycling programs? Construction Junction doesn't seem to have anything. But if I don't soon find a way to dispose of this, I may soon end up with a critical mass of Past Industry's Ghosts:

(Like this, only dressed like a Chimney Sweep and Covered in Soot.)