Half a century ago, Hopewell was just one more city connected to the growth of pesticide production as part of the Green Revolution, an effort to increase crop yields in the south.

Pesticides were just one of the many aspects of the chemical industry, which grew in tandem with mass consumption following WWII. Pesticides and other products of the chemical industry were integrated into the burgeoning consumer lifestyle associated with modern life

In marketing brochures, Hopewell billed itself as the “chemical capital of the world.” A sign outside the city was slightly more modest, welcoming drivers to the “chemical capital of the South.” But slogans only went so far when workers at Life Science Products, a small pesticide factory in Hopewell, became ill after exposure to Kepone, the brand name for the pesticide chlordecone [also the later name of a beloved Richmond power-punk trio from the ’90s featuring members of Gwar, Avail and Burma Jam].

News of ill workers eventually led to the discovery of widespread environmental contamination of the James River and city landscape. That story is central to Gregory Wilson’s book, “Poison Powder: The Kepone Disaster in Virginia and Its Legacy,” exploring the repercussions of Kepone’s impact on Virginia’s environment and the lasting effects of the disaster. Wilson, a professor of history at the University of Akron, discusses the book Dec. 3 at the Library of Virginia.

Growing up in Newport News, Wilson’s memory of the Kepone disaster amounted to a sense that it was bad and harmful for fishing. “I wasn’t aware of all the details and complexity that emerged later when I started doing the research,” he says. “In my memory, the story formed part of the general milieu of the time and that included what we now call yacht rock, the Bicentennial celebration and the usual things kids experienced growing up in that time.”

He came up with the idea for the book around 2014, a year or so before starting his research. “At that time, I’d been working in environmental history and reading about toxic substances and chemical relations,” he recalls. “In my mind, those readings made a connection to the Kepone story I still recalled from childhood.”

Using what remained of the legal cases housed at the Philadelphia branch of the National Archives, Wilson also spent a semester at the Library of Virginia to access the records there, as well as the University of Virginia, College of William & Mary, and the Virginia Historical Society. “I also knew that oral history would be a large part of the book,” he says. “Being in Richmond allowed me to conduct most of the interviews, which were especially important.”

In July 1975, public awareness of the sick workers spread quickly once news outlets began reporting the closure of Life Science Products and that workers were being hospitalized with Kepone poisoning. But privately, workers and others familiar with the operation said they knew about the conditions in the factory and the symptoms from the start of production, more than a year earlier.

Pointing out that there were multiple agencies with some involvement in what was happening at Life Science from 1974 until it closed in 1975, Wilson thinks there were various reasons no one acted to shut things down. It was only when Health Department officials inspected workers and the conditions inside the company that something was done to address the situation. Says Wilson: “At that point, discovery of the larger environmental disaster is what led to more actions that included the fishing ban and new legislation to address toxic substances.”

The casual disposal of toxic chemicals might seem outrageous in 2025, but it was commonplace in the late ’60s to mid-’70s. Wilson says the environment was a dumping ground for all sorts of toxic materials even as a growing effort sought to reign in the indiscriminate disposal of chemicals and other toxic waste in the land, air, and water. That push was underway in Virginia and across the United States just as the Kepone disaster hit.

In writing this book, Wilson found it challenging to keep track of the many threads related to the story, after sorting through hundreds of documents. “The political, scientific, legal, and personal stories made for a compelling, but complex narrative,” he says. “I did my best to relate and connect all those elements in the book to readers.”

Every disaster has its legacy and Kepone is no different.

“I’d say it’s the importance of eternal vigilance when it comes to human and environmental safety and health, particularly when it comes to toxic substances,” Wilson says. “Abiding by the precautionary principle would be a good starting point when it comes to introducing and working with toxic substances.”

And while he’s not ready to address the disaster’s legacy in terms of why an early ‘90s Richmond band would dub itself Kepone, Wilson does acknowledge another musical association with the chemical.

“The Dead Kennedys made the connection with their song ‘Kepone Factory’ in the 1980s,” he says. “I suppose there’s a certain affinity between the negative effects of the Kepone disaster and the sonic aura of 1990s grunge.”

Gregory Wilson’s book talk on “Poison Powder: The Kepone Disaster in Virginia and Its Legacy,” will be held on Wednesday, Dec. 3 at noon at the Library of Virginia. Free but registration required. Register