"No Vernon power plant! No Vernon power plant! No Vernon power plant!"

During the early evening of Nov. 26, that's what the 200-plus mostly Hispanic marchers chanted as individuals and families began walking from the Staples parking lot across Slauson Avenue and up Boyle Avenue, where Huntington Park turns into the gritty industrial City of Vernon.

Four young Latinas led the crowd on the sidewalk, holding up a wide banner saying "No Power Plant in Our Community" between two ghostly skulls. Behind them were women with another banner that read "Mothers of East Los Angeles."

Farther back walked a man in a surgical mask over his mouth and nose carrying an infant-sized white coffin on his shoulder. He was surrounded by other adults, adolescents and children wearing black arm bands. Many were waving signs saying "Coalition Against the Vernon Power Plant" above an image of three smokestacks hovering over a house. Below were the words "Not in My Back Yard."

Adding to the mock funeral procession's atmosphere, a white Lincoln hearse crept eerily on the street alongside the marchers.

As they turned right on Fruitland Avenue, the chant became "!Viva la salud!" (Hurray for life!). Pungent odors, however, now made it hard to take a deep breath. An acid taste settled uncomfortably on the back of one's throat.

Ten minutes more of determined marching, and there it was - 27 acres of leveled dirt where the City of Vernon wants to build a 943-megawatt electricity-generating facility, using three natural gas-fired combustion turbines and one steam turbine on nearly 14 subdivided acres.

Spreading out, the marchers formed a wide semicircle, with their backs to the high iron-mesh fence.

Los Angeles City Councilman Jose Huizar of the 14th District was the first to speak. He lamented the fact that Vernon has chosen this particular site to build a new power plant on and promised to continue to battle against its construction. Moreover, the politician said he would soon hold a press conference to petition the City of Los Angeles to officially oppose the new facility.

After, Msgr. John Moretta, veteran pastor of Resurrection Church in Boyle Heights who helped organize the protest, asked the TV cameramen to shine their lights on the expansive brown field beyond the fence.

'Nobody is against power'
"That's where it is folks. That's where they want to put this horrendous power plant," the priest said, alternating Spanish and English. "Nobody is against power. We all need power. But to put a plant so close in the community that's going to produce up to 881 million tons of toxic pollutants is not right.

"And the AQMD [Air Quality Management District] says that it's going to produce a minimum of four deaths per year, up to a maximum of 11 deaths per year. Plus, hundreds of babies will become miscarriages and not be born over the lifetime of this plant."

Msgr. Moretta reported that attorneys were currently fighting the project in court, and would continue to do so. He urged the people present to keep up their taking-it-to-the-streets struggle, too.

"You can smell the things around here from two blocks away, and you can just feel it. So for them now to put another plant here is just absolutely ridiculous. We must fight it with every means that we have, because the City of Vernon has no conscience," he declared, raising a hand high in the air.

The 5.2-square-mile city south of downtown Los Angeles has only 90-some permanent residents. But 44,000 men and women work in its warehouses, factories, waste management centers and meatpacking plants. Wedged between the 10 Freeway and Los Angeles River, the area's nonstop stench has been attributed to rank wastes from industries mixed with diesel fumes from trucks and freight trains to form a noxious airborne cocktail.

Founded in 1905, Vernon has its own police, health, utilities and fire departments. More than 1,200 businesses, shoe-horned shoulder-to-shoulder, call it home, attracted by low taxes, cheap utilities and corporate-friendly regulations. In April 2006, the mini-municipality held its first contested election in 26 years; incredibly, however, city officials have refused to count the ballots. And Mayor Leonis Malbury, grandson of co-founding father John Leonis, has continued to serve since 1974.

Environmental Justice Zone
By 7:30 p.m., the rally at the fence was spent, and people started walking back to their cars. But the large contingent from Resurrection had a yellow school bus waiting to take them back to Boyle Heights.

Msgr. Moretta told The Tidings his parish was exactly two miles from the proposed power plant. He also pointed out how the entire area had been designated an "Environmental Justice Zone," which meant the surrounding low-income, minority neighborhoods had already been burdened to the max by industrial pollutants and toxins.

"All of these communities around here have suffered over the years with all these odors and contaminants, and everything that came out of Vernon," he said. "And this is kind of the last straw - three towers of 18 stories high spilling 881 million tons of pollutants per year.

"But this, in fact, is not just going to impact my parish or just the Eastside. It's going to go all the way out to our friends in Montebello, Monterey Park and Hacienda Heights. The fossil fuel contaminants are going to drift out, they're not just going to stay here.

"We are the first ones on the defense here because we know what's happening in our backyard," he noted. "A lot of people aren't aware of this yet, but they're going to be affected by it, too."

Miguel Alfaro, a 49-year-old Resurrection parishioner, agreed. With the air generally flowing northeast, he explained, pollutants from the new power plant would eventually rain down on a whole host of locales, including the City of Bell, Maywood, Bell Garden and Commerce - besides East L.A.

"It's not fair for our communities to be receiving more and more pollution that's generated," said the truck driver and parish Eucharistic minister, lector and altar server director. "My wife and I are here for our three kids and our community. We're trying to let Vernon know that we are not going to take it. We want to protect the environment."

Another Resurrection parishioner, Magdalena Maldano, also couldn't sit home tonight. "We are here because this is a very delicate situation," the 71-year-old woman said in Spanish. "This project is going to harm the community, especially the elder citizens and also children. As they grow, they're going to have more and more problems health-wise.

"I'm very optimistic because we have made some marches and we have made progress," she added. "We believe that our voice is very strong."

Lucy Ramos, 58, was born and raised in Boyle Heights. The mother of five and grandmother of 10, who also attends Resurrection Church, came out simply to stop an injustice.

"It's funny," she mused, with a chuckle and head shake. "Twenty years ago we were fighting to stop the building of a prison in Boyle Heights. It took us seven years. I don't care if this takes us another seven years. We're going to stick to this battle to see that the power plant does not get built."