Down and dirty

The health inspector
The phone on Sylvia Garrison’s desk rings just as she is leaving for lunch.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” she says. 

She turns around in her swivel chair, picks up the receiver, and tucks the phone between her cheek and right shoulder.

“Sylvia Garrison, Monroe Country Health Department.”

A manager of Baked! of Bloomington was on the other line. Sylvia nods and twirls a pen through her fingers as she listened to the receiver. 

“Right, handicap bathrooms,” she says.

A pause. 

“Floors, walls, ceilings — they’re easily cleanable. The issue for you guys is the city of Bloomington’s new grease trap requirement,” she says. “It gets really expensive, I’m going to tell you right now.”

Sylvia is the head supervisor of the Monroe County Health Department’s food safety division. For nearly four decades she has devoted her life to evaluating and educating communities on food safety across the country.
Her team protects, promotes, and improves the health of all people in Monroe County by enforcing sanitation laws regarding food.

Through unannounced inspections, the health department maintains strict standards for local restaurants and their cleanliness. At any time, inspectors from her office can show up and evaluate businesses for violations.

Sewage backup, infestation of rodents or insects, and gross uncleanliness warrant an immediate closure. If minor violations are present, the office has the ability to ticket establishments and even take them to court.

Although no longer a health inspector, Sylvia has worked in all caveats of public health — witnessing firsthand the good, the bad, and the ugly of the food service industry.

During an unannounced inspection several years ago while working in Washington, D.C., she says she uncovered a “severe rat infestation.”

Sylvia’s eyes widen as she squirms in her chair a little bit.

“They were nesting below the booths customers sat and ate at,” she says. “They were large — definitely city rats.”

Customers called her the previous day to complain about rats running around the restaurant floor during lunch hours, leaving droppings and gnawed food. She says the restaurant was shut down immediately following the inspection.

Winter is always a hectic time in her Bloomington office. Hundreds of annual renewal papers of local restaurants and renewal contracts filter are in a stack on a table next to the door — which has a small plastic basketball net fixed to its top. The phone rings at least three times every hour. A water pipe in the Health Department burst the night before, relocating a dozen employees until repairs are made.

Sylvia says it’s what keeps her young.

Sylvia’s mother was a dietitian who taught her the importance of food safety. After receiving a bachelor of science in environmental safety from IU, Sylvia embarked on a career that would bring her to corporations, local governments, and schools — ultimately landing her back in Bloomington.

Monroe County has about 600 licensed food establishments — a general term that includes restaurants, bars, taverns, grocery stores, school cafeterias, and food trucks. She says the Health Department and the Bloomington area restaurants work together to form mutually beneficial relationships.

“We look at ourselves as educators,” Sylvia says. “Restaurants will call us personally, and they want us to know about their violations. They actually tell us the problem and what steps they have taken to mediate the issue. We have a great relationship with each other.”

By teaching employees and managers basic hygiene, Sylvia and her team prevent the spread of illness. She says her main concern is protecting the health of those at a higher risk — the elderly and children. The picture frames around her office symbolize Sylvia’s values of community and relationships.

“We do an incredible job for the amount of staff we have,” Sylvia says. “I just realize how frustrating it is for the public when problems threatening their health appear. That’s what keeps me young and loving my job. The community and diversity, the youngness — it never gets boring in Bloomington.”

Sylvia takes a long tube of paper from a pile in the corner of her office. She opens it and reveals the plans for a new restaurant in Bloomington. She says some people underestimate the responsibilities involved with opening and operating a restaurant.

She has to review plans to make sure the building will allow for proper food storage and ventilation.

Health inspections used to be about floors, walls, and ceilings, but the focus has turned to critical violations such as time and temperature control, potential for cross contamination, and personal hygiene.

“Dirty floors are gross, but they don’t make people sick,” Sylvia says.

She starts to gather her things before the phone on her desk rings again. Stopping for a second to read the caller I.D., she weighs whether to answer or sneak out quickly.

“I think I’m going to have to take this, give me a minute,” she says.


The distribution mechanic
By Rachel Wisinski

Bob Barnes was bundled head to toe. Two or three sweatshirts, a coat with insulation, a hood to keep his face warm, and thick, warm snow boots. The distribution mechanic for the IU Physical Plant was called Jan. 7 with a new task.

An 8-inch thick water line had snapped in half. The line supplied the Herman B Wells Library and surrounding buildings with water. In below freezing temperatures, Bob and other plant workers spent close to 30 straight hours in a ditch fixing the line.

Temperatures ranged from a maximum 12 degrees to a new minimum for Jan. 7 in Bloomington, minus 9 degrees.

“It’s nothing uncommon to work out in the cold like that,” Bob says. “It was quite chilly, but I’m not really bothered by it.”

Bob’s crew had to cap the line, shutting off the water for eight miles. It was less of a problem because most students were still at home for winter break at the time.

The job required they take the water line completely out and replace the broken section. Though there weren’t any setbacks, it wasn’t always pleasant. The temperature made everything more difficult.

“The worst thing was that the water was spraying up in the air on us, and it was freezing on our clothes,” Bob says.

His hands and toes got cold. He’d even used a rain suit to keep the water off.
Affected buildings went without water for the entire day. The task took from about 1:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m. the following day.

Bob and the crew took breaks to warm up. The 55-year-old said one thing makes the job different from when he started in 1979.

“I’m getting older, so it’s rougher on me,” Bob says. “But it hasn’t changed much in the way we fix things.”

Safety isn’t an issue because Bob is always on his toes and watches what he is doing. He has a wife at home to think about.

Bob’s primary responsibility is fixing problems with campus water and steam lines. The campus can’t operate without them, so it’s an important job, Bob says.

Bob and his crew usually spend their time underground anyway. They fix the problem, and nobody ever notices it was one. There is always something to do — mainly something with emergencies outside campus buildings.

Kevin Bucy, manager of utility distribution for the IU Physical Plant, says Bob responds to emergencies well.

“He always seems to get the nasty jobs,” Kevin says.

But Bob doesn’t mind it.

“It’s a good job,” Bob says. “I couldn’t ask for a better job, and that’s why I’ve been here almost 35 years.