Virginian-Pilot


DATE: Tuesday, March 18, 1997               TAG: 9703180345

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B6   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY JOAN STANUS, STAFF WRITER 

DATELINE: NORFOLK                           LENGTH:   78 lines




LONG-FORGOTTEN TEAR GAS STOPS WORK ON SHOP GLASS VIAL WAS EMBEDDED IN DOOR OF OLD SAFE TO DETER WOULD-BE BURGLARS.

For the last four days, a pinky-finger-sized vial of tear gas more than a century old has held two Norfolk businesswomen hostage.

But Monday, when the stand-off ended along a blocked-off city street, there were only dry eyes.

``It was pretty hysterical,'' said Trish Rogers. ``After everything, after putting my shop on hold, my landlady having to spend all that money, and all the trouble we went through, that vial had dried up from old age.''

Late Monday afternoon, in a scene reminiscent of ``The X-Files,'' a worker clad in protective clothing came into the Sewells Point Road storefront to remove the vial from behind the steel door where it had sat undetected for more than 30 years.

``It's been a big hullabaloo over nothing,'' maintained Annie Henderson, who owns the property. ``About all that would happen if that vial broke is that it would burn your eyes for a little bit. It's no big deal.''

But it sure turned into one.

The vial of gas was discovered last week when a locksmith came to Henderson's shop to change the combination on a 100-year-old Wells Fargo safe. The 6-foot-high iron safe had been in the storefront for decades, used by the succession of jewelry stores, clothing stores, florists, video stores and other businesses that has occupied the building through the years.

Earlier this winter, when Rogers leased the shop to house a flower business, she asked Henderson to remove the safe. After agreeing to make minor repairs and change the combination, the landlord sold the 3,000-pound ``monster.''

``It's not all that unusual of a safe, except that it's so old,'' she said. ``It's ugly, . . . but it still works.''

Last Friday, when the locksmith pried open the front steel door to work on the lock, he discovered the attached vial, encased in a bed of batting.

``Everyone was really curious as to what it was,'' said Rogers. ``At first, I was afraid it might explode or give off some dangerous gas.''

Apparently, the safe's manufacturer installed the gas as a protection against safe crackers. Theoretically, any drilling into the lock would puncture the vial, release the gas and temporarily blind any would-be burglar.

But for the women, disposing of the vial proved to be its own punishment.

``The locksmith said he couldn't mess with it. He said he wasn't allowed,'' recalled Henderson. ``So we called the city.''

The next thing they knew, fire trucks, rescue vehicles and police descended on them.

``Maybe they thought the vial was already broke,'' Henderson said. ``Then they told me that if I didn't get rid of it properly, I could face a $2,000 fine and a year in jail.''

She was flabbergasted, but she agreed to hire a company specializing in the removal of hazardous materials. When she got an estimate for $1,400, however, she was beyond flabbergasted.

``I sure didn't want to pay that kind of money, but what was I going to do?''

In the meantime, Rogers had to halt renovations to the shop until the gas could be removed.

``I was hoping to open by Easter, but I don't know if that's possible now,'' she said Monday. ``I had people coming in to paint last weekend. I don't know when I'll get help now.''

About 3:30 Monday, workers arrived to remove the vial, still attached to the steel door. So did the city's bomb squad and fire officials. As a safety precaution, Sewells Point Road was blocked off during the operation.

Unexplainable, the vial broke during the removal.

For the women, it was an ironic end to the saga.

``I had no idea it would turn into something like this,'' said Rogers, laughing. ``I used to work in an old flower shop that was once there, and we'd bump up against that safe all the time and move it around the room. It never broke then.''

Added Henderson: ``I don't know why everyone got so upset about it. It was just tear gas. It's not that pleasant of a thing, but, come on, it's not all that bad either. Even if it hadn't dried up, there was really nothing to get so excited about.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photo by JOAN STANUS/The Virginian-Pilot

Annie Henderson, owner of the Sewells Point Road store, shows the

police tape that kept her out until the container was removed.



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