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Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
Major food producer hit with lawsuit after contaminating local water supply: 'Every day that goes by, people's risk of getting cancer ... continues'
A major farm has been slapped with a lawsuit for its discharge of forever chemicals in its wastewater, according to WUSA9. Perdue Farms is under investigation in Maryland for contaminating the water supplies of neighbors via its wastewater processing. Groundwater and a stream bordering the farm are allegedly affected. A class-action lawsuit against Perdue on the matter is expected to take years. In the meantime, lawyers representing the residents have sent a letter to Perdue demanding action within 90 days pending the investigation, or else they will go to a federal judge to force the limitation of sludge fertilizer use. Per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS) are a wide grouping of chemicals that have been dubbed "forever chemicals" because of their persistence in ecosystems and bodies. They're typically used in anti-stick coating like Teflon, water-resistant fabrics, cosmetics, food packaging, and potentially in this case, sewage. Exposure to these toxic chemicals has shown links to infertility and cancer. Perdue's case is far from an isolated incident. One Alabama woman suffered multiple heart issues related to exposure to PFAS in her water. An abandoned property in South Carolina remained an ongoing source of forever chemical contamination to nearby communities. Broadly, legislation is possible. Canada has been taking legal steps to protect consumers against forever chemicals. German insurance providers are dialing back coverage of companies being subject to PFAS-related lawsuits. Conversely, the EPA recently rolled back water regulations that would protect Americans from some PFAS. Perdue said it is providing bottled water and filtration systems to 356 affected homes and is nearly finished testing the wells of 920 homes. Residents say this is still not enough, so long as its waste management hasn't changed. "Every day that goes by, people's risk of getting cancer and other health problems from PFAS-contaminated groundwater continues," said attorney Phil Federico, per WUSA9. "We've got to get them clean water now and stop this. This risk that they're being exposed to." How often do you worry about the quality of your drinking water? Never Sometimes Often Always Click your choice to see results and speak your mind. Join our free newsletter for good news and useful tips, and don't miss this cool list of easy ways to help yourself while helping the planet.
Yahoo
23-05-2025
- Yahoo
A missing bench comes to symbolize missing solutions to homelessness
John Paul Shanks sits for a photo outside the Central Inn in Central City, April 27, 2025. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This is the final story in a Lantern series about homelessness in Western Kentucky. Read the earlier articles here. CENTRAL CITY — Sitting on his bed at the Central Inn on a bitterly cold January day, John Paul Shanks had already handwashed his clothes, after pre-soaking them in Gain detergent, and hung them to dry. Living outdoors in this Western Kentucky town has given him a lot of experience in making do. 'I'm probably one of the only people you'll see that can just sit there and lay on a piece of concrete with a pillow or nothing and go to bed,' Shanks said. 'That hardens you up.' Gwen Clements is why 41-year-old Shanks, his red beard long and his head shaved, had a motel room that day. Clements also knows about making do. She's a leader in a loose coalition of the compassionate, working to help her homeless neighbors in a place that offers them few formal resources. She met Shanks years before when she took a job at the Perdue Farms poultry processing plant in Ohio County around the time of the Great Recession. He was a production line leader. It's unclear to Clements what put Shanks on the path to what she describes as being 'chronically homeless.' But as she began seeing him walk the streets she started checking in with him and asking if he needed anything. On days when she wanted to find Shanks, she would make sure to get up early to drive around town and check a few of his haunts. Outside the Central Inn. Inside the local Wendy's. On a bench next to a local bank where people driving by gave him money, food and sometimes clothing. 'The only people that know him are the people who stop and talk to him, people that know him from the past,' Clements said in January. With deadly cold in the forecast that January week, Clements, through a Facebook group she started in early 2024 focused on homelessness, had urged her neighbors to send her money so that she could put people up in the motel and keep them safe overnight. Finding Shanks during severe weather and making sure he had shelter had become a priority for her. It was easy for Clements to check Shanks into a motel room for the night. Finding help for his deeper issues is not. Clements said that's true of other people she helps, some of them grappling with what seem to be untreated mental illness and addiction and living without permanent shelter. 'People like John Paul, there's no help for them. You can make all the appointments you want for him. He's not going to go,' Clements said. 'He doesn't have transportation if he did decide to go.' Shanks said he injured his back years ago when on the drive to work the vehicle he was in hit a patch of black ice that 'flipped the car.' The nerve pain was so intense, he said, it could take him 30 minutes to dress. In the motel room, he also described grappling with addiction and using prescription opioids, cocaine and methamphetamine. According to court records, Shanks has been arrested a number of times. Once he was screaming and throwing rocks from a train track. Shanks told police he hadn't realized one of the rocks had almost hit a woman. Another time he was arrested for disorderly conduct for allegedly yelling obscenities at a local IGA grocery store. In 2022, a Central City police officer and Chief Jason Lindsey found Shanks at a strip mall where Shanks had previously trespassed, according to an incident report. Shanks had allegedly told a minor 'he would take him out back and beat his brains out.' Shanks told law enforcement the minor 'had said things to him about him being homeless and getting a job.' Shanks was arrested and banned from entering the strip mall property. Tammy Piper, the director of business development for the city, told the Lantern last year the city had tried to help Shanks multiple times by putting him in a hotel room or offering work. Piper said in one instance, Chief Lindsey drove Shanks to live with family members several counties over and had secured a job for Shanks, only for Shanks to return to the Central City streets. In the fall of 2024, the city removed the bench next to a local bank where Shanks often sat, sometimes dozing or asking passing drivers for money. The move sparked debate on social media and made television news in Evansville, Indiana. Central City Mayor Tony Armour told the Evansville station the bench was removed because Shanks made people uncomfortable. The mayor also said the city has tried to offer Shanks work. Shanks, in the motel room in January, disputed that the city had offered him a job. The bench took on larger significance for some, including Clements, who saw its removal as a symbol of apathy and, at times, disregard by local officials and police for people who are unsheltered and struggling. 'That was just a small part of how our homeless are treated in this county and this city,' said Clements. Clements said Shanks and other people dealing with homelessness need more than a bench where they can spend their days or even a roof over their heads. She sees a need for mobile mental health services that can meet people where they're living outside, considering that homelessness can deteriorate mental health. 'He's suffered a lot of trauma from being unhoused. I don't think people understand that,' Clements said about Shanks. 'They just want to think that, 'He's lazy and a druggie, and he needs to get a job, get off drugs and he'll be fine.' It's much more than that. 'The warming shelters and stuff is the 'more.' John Paul needing mobile crisis mental health — that's part of the 'more.' It's just so much more than the bench being removed,' Clements said. When Shanks was asked in the motel room if he believed others in Central City cared about people experiencing homelessness, he said: 'I think they worry about others. I think there's just a lot to worry about.' Clements replied to Shanks: 'The problem is too big, and they don't know how to handle it.' Paramount among the needs is more housing and temporary shelter, according to Clements and others in the band of helpers pushing to address homelessness in Muhlenberg County. The Muhlenberg County Economic Growth Alliance, the economic development arm for county government, retained an Ohio-based housing research firm in November 2023 to better understand the local housing market. The study found a need for more than 300 additional rental units and more than 700 additional owner-occupied homes through 2029. The report noted the need for affordable rental units would continue because of persistent poverty in the county. But the path for creating more housing or even temporary shelter remains unclear. Kelsey Rolley, who has helped the loose coalition at times through her work at Pennyrile Allied Community Services, said some of the divisions among the community spring from fear of the unknown. She imagines questions from local 'higher ups,' such as who else might come into the county to seek shelter if more were available and whether it might attract more crime. When Armour, the mayor, raised concerns about a church's plans to turn the Central Inn into efficiency apartments to help homeless people transition into something more permanent, he worried his community could be 'destroyed' by an influx of people drawn by the assistance. 'It's going to take a village, and until that village can be formed, created and run properly, all of us work together — I feel like it's just going to keep us stuck,' Rolley said. The loose coalition is persisting, though. Clements and others recently visited Somerset to see how a nonprofit shelter and resource hub were started just a couple years ago, and Clements has been considering buildings to potentially start her own version of that nonprofit in Muhlenberg. The way forward to stable housing remains strewn with challenges and struggles for the people who talked about their experiences of being homeless in this series. Shanks remained on the concrete stoop of the Central Inn in May, waving at passing cars. He mentioned he needed a shower, a pair of socks and maybe another stay in a motel room. 'You gotta appreciate everything about everything,' he said. Courtney Phillips, who slept outside the Abundant Life Church for weeks, is still piecing together what she wants her life to be. The church has provided her a room to sleep in. At her nursing home job, she's working long hours and building relationships with residents who deal with mental health disorders including dementia. She wants to save money for a car — what she calls a 'baby step' toward where she wants to be. She made it to the top of a waiting list for a rapid rehousing program and hopes it will help her find an apartment soon. She's also been carrying on without her dog, Joker, who cuddled with her while she was sleeping outside. Joker died earlier this year; a wooden urn with Joker's ashes sits in her room at the church, and Joker's bed is still beside her bed. 'It's real different, but he's still with me,' Phillips said. Mallie Luken, who slept in the church parking lot before Clements helped her find housing, was anxious for weeks leading up to a hearing on her possible eviction from the apartment Clements had helped her find. After police left Luken in her wheelchair outside the Abundant Life Church on a stormy night in September, Clements came to her aid, helping her secure an apartment at the Greenville Housing Authority. But her housing situation was uncertain yet again by this month. Luken, 70, was served an eviction notice because of alleged complaints from neighbors about her behavior and inappropriate language that they said was directed at them. Clements, who admits Luken can be her own 'worst enemy,' also said the housing authority alleged Luken hadn't paid rent, something she said wasn't true. The stress of her predicament had Luken exhausted and apprehensive. 'Somehow or another I keep falling through the system,' Luken said weeks before the hearing. Earlier in May, in front of a district court judge, Luken with the help of a Kentucky Legal Aid attorney was able to come to an agreement with the housing authority: She can stay in her apartment until another apartment opens up at a housing authority in Beaver Dam, next door in Ohio County where Luken previously lived. Clements said Luken has friends near there, potentially a support system. In Muhlenberg County, Clements played a large role in Luken's support system. Their relationship has grown over the months they've been together. 'I can't imagine what she's done for other people,' Luken said in praise of Clements' generosity. Leaving Luken's apartment earlier this year, Clements told Luken she loved her. Out on the sidewalk, Clements, in a voice choked with emotion, said, 'I can't imagine my mother being in that predicament. I just can't.' Introduction Part 1: Homeless often means 'invisible,' but not to everyone in this small Kentucky town Part 2: After living outdoors for weeks, she got a place to sleep, a shower — and a job Part 3: A church called its vision for housing a 'Beacon of Hope.' The mayor had concerns.
Yahoo
23-05-2025
- Yahoo
A missing bench comes to symbolize missing solutions to homelessness
John Paul Shanks sits for a photo outside the Central Inn in Central City, April 27, 2025. (Kentucky Lantern photo by Austin Anthony) This is the final story in a Lantern series about homelessness in Western Kentucky. Read the earlier articles here. CENTRAL CITY — Sitting on his bed at the Central Inn on a bitterly cold January day, John Paul Shanks had already handwashed his clothes, after pre-soaking them in Gain detergent, and hung them to dry. Living outdoors in this Western Kentucky town has given him a lot of experience in making do. 'I'm probably one of the only people you'll see that can just sit there and lay on a piece of concrete with a pillow or nothing and go to bed,' Shanks said. 'That hardens you up.' Gwen Clements is why 41-year-old Shanks, his red beard long and his head shaved, had a motel room that day. Clements also knows about making do. She's a leader in a loose coalition of the compassionate, working to help her homeless neighbors in a place that offers them few formal resources. She met Shanks years before when she took a job at the Perdue Farms poultry processing plant in Ohio County around the time of the Great Recession. He was a production line leader. It's unclear to Clements what put Shanks on the path to what she describes as being 'chronically homeless.' But as she began seeing him walk the streets she started checking in with him and asking if he needed anything. On days when she wanted to find Shanks, she would make sure to get up early to drive around town and check a few of his haunts. Outside the Central Inn. Inside the local Wendy's. On a bench next to a local bank where people driving by gave him money, food and sometimes clothing. 'The only people that know him are the people who stop and talk to him, people that know him from the past,' Clements said in January. With deadly cold in the forecast that January week, Clements, through a Facebook group she started in early 2024 focused on homelessness, had urged her neighbors to send her money so that she could put people up in the motel and keep them safe overnight. Finding Shanks during severe weather and making sure he had shelter had become a priority for her. It was easy for Clements to check Shanks into a motel room for the night. Finding help for his deeper issues is not. Clements said that's true of other people she helps, some of them grappling with what seem to be untreated mental illness and addiction and living without permanent shelter. 'People like John Paul, there's no help for them. You can make all the appointments you want for him. He's not going to go,' Clements said. 'He doesn't have transportation if he did decide to go.' Shanks said he injured his back years ago when on the drive to work the vehicle he was in hit a patch of black ice that 'flipped the car.' The nerve pain was so intense, he said, it could take him 30 minutes to dress. In the motel room, he also described grappling with addiction and using prescription opioids, cocaine and methamphetamine. According to court records, Shanks has been arrested a number of times. Once he was screaming and throwing rocks from a train track. Shanks told police he hadn't realized one of the rocks had almost hit a woman. Another time he was arrested for disorderly conduct for allegedly yelling obscenities at a local IGA grocery store. In 2022, a Central City police officer and Chief Jason Lindsey found Shanks at a strip mall where Shanks had previously trespassed, according to an incident report. Shanks had allegedly told a minor 'he would take him out back and beat his brains out.' Shanks told law enforcement the minor 'had said things to him about him being homeless and getting a job.' Shanks was arrested and banned from entering the strip mall property. Tammy Piper, the director of business development for the city, told the Lantern last year the city had tried to help Shanks multiple times by putting him in a hotel room or offering work. Piper said in one instance, Chief Lindsey drove Shanks to live with family members several counties over and had secured a job for Shanks, only for Shanks to return to the Central City streets. In the fall of 2024, the city removed the bench next to a local bank where Shanks often sat, sometimes dozing or asking passing drivers for money. The move sparked debate on social media and made television news in Evansville, Indiana. Central City Mayor Tony Armour told the Evansville station the bench was removed because Shanks made people uncomfortable. The mayor also said the city has tried to offer Shanks work. Shanks, in the motel room in January, disputed that the city had offered him a job. The bench took on larger significance for some, including Clements, who saw its removal as a symbol of apathy and, at times, disregard by local officials and police for people who are unsheltered and struggling. 'That was just a small part of how our homeless are treated in this county and this city,' said Clements. Clements said Shanks and other people dealing with homelessness need more than a bench where they can spend their days or even a roof over their heads. She sees a need for mobile mental health services that can meet people where they're living outside, considering that homelessness can deteriorate mental health. 'He's suffered a lot of trauma from being unhoused. I don't think people understand that,' Clements said about Shanks. 'They just want to think that, 'He's lazy and a druggie, and he needs to get a job, get off drugs and he'll be fine.' It's much more than that. 'The warming shelters and stuff is the 'more.' John Paul needing mobile crisis mental health — that's part of the 'more.' It's just so much more than the bench being removed,' Clements said. When Shanks was asked in the motel room if he believed others in Central City cared about people experiencing homelessness, he said: 'I think they worry about others. I think there's just a lot to worry about.' Clements replied to Shanks: 'The problem is too big, and they don't know how to handle it.' Paramount among the needs is more housing and temporary shelter, according to Clements and others in the band of helpers pushing to address homelessness in Muhlenberg County. The Muhlenberg County Economic Growth Alliance, the economic development arm for county government, retained an Ohio-based housing research firm in November 2023 to better understand the local housing market. The study found a need for more than 300 additional rental units and more than 700 additional owner-occupied homes through 2029. The report noted the need for affordable rental units would continue because of persistent poverty in the county. But the path for creating more housing or even temporary shelter remains unclear. Kelsey Rolley, who has helped the loose coalition at times through her work at Pennyrile Allied Community Services, said some of the divisions among the community spring from fear of the unknown. She imagines questions from local 'higher ups,' such as who else might come into the county to seek shelter if more were available and whether it might attract more crime. When Armour, the mayor, raised concerns about a church's plans to turn the Central Inn into efficiency apartments to help homeless people transition into something more permanent, he worried his community could be 'destroyed' by an influx of people drawn by the assistance. 'It's going to take a village, and until that village can be formed, created and run properly, all of us work together — I feel like it's just going to keep us stuck,' Rolley said. The loose coalition is persisting, though. Clements and others recently visited Somerset to see how a nonprofit shelter and resource hub were started just a couple years ago, and Clements has been considering buildings to potentially start her own version of that nonprofit in Muhlenberg. The way forward to stable housing remains strewn with challenges and struggles for the people who talked about their experiences of being homeless in this series. Shanks remained on the concrete stoop of the Central Inn in May, waving at passing cars. He mentioned he needed a shower, a pair of socks and maybe another stay in a motel room. 'You gotta appreciate everything about everything,' he said. Courtney Phillips, who slept outside the Abundant Life Church for weeks, is still piecing together what she wants her life to be. The church has provided her a room to sleep in. At her nursing home job, she's working long hours and building relationships with residents who deal with mental health disorders including dementia. She wants to save money for a car — what she calls a 'baby step' toward where she wants to be. She made it to the top of a waiting list for a rapid rehousing program and hopes it will help her find an apartment soon. She's also been carrying on without her dog, Joker, who cuddled with her while she was sleeping outside. Joker died earlier this year; a wooden urn with Joker's ashes sits in her room at the church, and Joker's bed is still beside her bed. 'It's real different, but he's still with me,' Phillips said. Mallie Luken, who slept in the church parking lot before Clements helped her find housing, was anxious for weeks leading up to a hearing on her possible eviction from the apartment Clements had helped her find. After police left Luken in her wheelchair outside the Abundant Life Church on a stormy night in September, Clements came to her aid, helping her secure an apartment at the Greenville Housing Authority. But her housing situation was uncertain yet again by this month. Luken, 70, was served an eviction notice because of alleged complaints from neighbors about her behavior and inappropriate language that they said was directed at them. Clements, who admits Luken can be her own 'worst enemy,' also said the housing authority alleged Luken hadn't paid rent, something she said wasn't true. The stress of her predicament had Luken exhausted and apprehensive. 'Somehow or another I keep falling through the system,' Luken said weeks before the hearing. Earlier in May, in front of a district court judge, Luken with the help of a Kentucky Legal Aid attorney was able to come to an agreement with the housing authority: She can stay in her apartment until another apartment opens up at a housing authority in Beaver Dam, next door in Ohio County where Luken previously lived. Clements said Luken has friends near there, potentially a support system. In Muhlenberg County, Clements played a large role in Luken's support system. Their relationship has grown over the months they've been together. 'I can't imagine what she's done for other people,' Luken said in praise of Clements' generosity. Leaving Luken's apartment earlier this year, Clements told Luken she loved her. Out on the sidewalk, Clements, in a voice choked with emotion, said, 'I can't imagine my mother being in that predicament. I just can't.' SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Yahoo
13-02-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Spokane Valley man leads class-action lawsuit against makers of Gore-Tex
Feb. 12—A Seattle law firm, on behalf of a Spokane Valley man, has filed a class-action civil lawsuit against the maker of Gore-Tex, a synthetic waterproof membrane that revolutionized outdoor gear, over concerns that the company is misleading customers about the presence of harmful "forever chemicals." The federal suit was filed Tuesday in the Eastern District of Washington in Spokane by the law firm Hagens Berman Sobol Shapiro, which has led several high-profile cases, including a $398 million settlement obtained last month following an antitrust suit filed against Tyson Foods Inc., Perdue Farms and others over alleged wage fixing. In the case filed Tuesday, the lawsuit alleges that the makers of W.L. Gore & Associates, which is based in Newark, Delaware, has engaged in "greenwashing" its products. In other words, the suit accuses W.L. Gore of claiming its products are environmentally safe while they continue to use chemicals that have been shown to cause harmful side effects, such as cancer in humans. "Gore's greenwashing campaign misleads the public by purporting to be highly committed to environmental responsibility and at the forefront of sustainable manufacturing processes," the complaint states. "But, in truth, Gore continues to produce Gore-Tex Fabric using PFAS, a suite of harmful "forever chemicals" with extremely dangerous health and environmental effects. "Gore also fails to disclose that its Gore-Tex Fabric sheds PFAS chemicals via ordinary use, which means that outdoor enthusiasts, as well as those simply wearing Gore-Tex Fabric to keep dry, are inadvertently contaminating the environment areas and their water supply when they venture out in their GoreTex gear, as the gear sheds PFAS." The first plaintiff named in the suit is Micah Mason of Spokane Valley. Efforts to reach Mason on Wednesday were not immediately successful. But according to the suit, Mason relied on "environmentally sound" advertising and labels when in 2021 he purchased Volcom snow pants that contained the Gore-Tex membrane, a breathable barrier that allows water vapor from sweat to escape but prevents water molecules from penetrating fabric. Nowhere on the product's labeling did it disclose that Gore-Tex contained PFAS or forever chemicals, the suit states. "Had Defendant disclosed these practices, Plaintiff would not have purchased the Product or would have paid less for it," the complaint states. "Defendant's unfair, unlawful, and deceptive conduct in manufacturing, marketing, and selling Gore-Tex Fabric as environmentally beneficial has caused Plaintiff out-of-pocket loss." Waterproof revolution According to its website, W.L. Gore & Associates was founded by a couple seeking to capitalize on a new invention. Bill and Vieve Gore started the company in 1958 in their basement in Newark, Delaware, after discovering a potential use for polytetraflouroethylene, or PTFE, that had been developed by Roy Plunkett at Dupont in 1938. Bill Gore gave up his job as a research chemist at Dupont, and the couple's first experiments in the basement led to a waterproof, three-layer system that propelled the company into one of the 200 largest privately held companies in the U.S., according to its website. The company employs some 13,000 people worldwide and generates about $4.8 billion in annual revenues. Gore-Tex is used in numerous products, including hunting boots and the uniforms that U.S. service personnel use to stay warm in cold climates. An email to W.L. Gore & Associates seeking comment was not immediately returned on Wednesday. Forever chemicals According to the lawsuit, the company recognized years ago that it may have problems regarding the chemicals it uses to make the waterproof membranes. The lawsuit includes recent images of company advertising under the heading: "Performance for the people. Performance for the planet. Our performance as a company depends on the sustainable performance of our products, our operations and our people. "We are working to protect the planet and people because our society, and our business, depends on it," the advertisement reads. At issue is a group of manmade chemicals, perflouroalkyl and polyflouroalkyl, known as PFAS, that are also knowns "forever chemicals." Developed in the 1940s, PFAS have been used for multiple consumer products and industrial applications. However, the chemicals take years to degrade in nature. High levels of the chemicals, the suit states, have since been linked to cancers, heart disease, high cholesterol, thyroid disease, low birth weight and other ailments. Locally, high levels of PFAS on the West Plains have been traced to firefighting foam used at the Air Force base and Spokane International Airport. According to the lawsuit filed this week, W.L. Gore realized more than a decade ago that its customers required environmentally safe products. Gore-Tex, which was first marketed in 1976, works as a three-layer system. The layered systems are then sold to other apparel manufacturers who are required to note the Gore-Tex brand. In the past, the company acknowledged that it used products that contained APFO, or ammonium salt form of perfluorooctanoic acid, a chemical within the broader group of PFAS. But the federal government in 2014 outlawed its use for manufacturing. Then in 2021, W.L. Gore announced that it had developed a new Gore-Tex lining that used an expanded polyethelene that does not contain PFAS, according to the suit. "But Defendant does not disclose that Gore still includes ePTFE in several of its current products and still uses a (durable water repellant) treatment derived from PFAS," the suit states. "Gore also omits disclosure that its Gore-Tex Fabric still sheds PFAS via ordinary use." The suit alleges that studies have shown that PFAS used in the garments can shed the chemicals as the they degrade with use. "This means that hikers who are taking their outdoor apparel on the trails are inadvertently shedding PFAS material straight into the pristine environments they are appreciating and seeking to preserve," the complaint reads. "This also means that regular consumers are also inadvertently shedding PFAS into local water supplies while walking on city streets, spending time in their yards, or while enjoying city parks." In addition to Mason, of Washington, the suit seeks to include anyone who purchased Gore-Tex products from 2018 to 2024 from 27 other states, including California, Idaho and Montana and the District of Columbia. In the complaint, where it explains why attorneys chose Spokane federal court as the venue, attorneys noted that they were seeking more than $5 million in damages. But the 138-page complaint later asks the judge to determine damages at trial. Asked whether the firm had a damages figure in mind, Steve Berman, who signed the complaint on behalf of the law firm, said he did not. "That will be the subject of expert testimony," he wrote in an email.
