HOWEY COUNCIL TOUTS SILVER TONIC AS ANTHRAX 'CURE'

HOWEY-IN-THE-HILLS -- The magical elixir is supposed to cure all sorts of ailments: gonorrhea, leukemia, sleepwalking, AIDS, arthritis, athlete's foot -- even anthrax.
 

And now, thanks to Howey-in-the-Hills Mayor Greg Bittner and the Town Council, colloidal silver is the officially endorsed "simple solution" for anthrax or any other malady that might strike the 950 residents of the quiet Lake County village.

Bittner, definitely not taking his cue from medical science, told a council meeting last week: "This is the greatest medicinal item that has ever come along. It wipes out virtually every virus."

Wishful thinking.

Federal health officials in 1999 prohibited the marketing of colloidal silver as a remedy for any disease because it turns human skin blue and gray -- permanently. And they say the fluid -- actually, tiny particles of silver suspended in distilled water -- doesn't cure a thing.

Officials at the Food and Drug Administration and the Federal Trade Commission were horrified to learn that any government would promote what they consider a scam.

Said FDA spokeswoman Laura Bradbard, "That's absolutely amazing." Added senior attorney Rich Cleland of the FTC: "There is no scientific evidence that suggests it will be effective against any bacteria."

And Dr. Stephen Barrett, vice president of the National Council Against Health Fraud and head of a Web site called Quackwatch.com, all but laughed out loud when told of Bittner's endorsement.

"Is he going to be re-elected as buffoon of the year?" Barrett said.

But the 67-year-old mayor, who researched colloidal silver on the Internet, where it's described as "nature's most powerful antibiotic," predicted it could "sweep the country."

Bittner brought colloidal silver to the attention of the Town Council on Oct. 8, just as an anthrax case in South Florida was beginning to generate talk of bioterrorism. Just in case, Bittner said, the town should spend $100 to buy a colloidal-silver "generator" that produces a gallon of the stuff for about a nickel. That way, he said, residents will have enough for their families, and "you can take care of your neighbors, too."

Council member Joanna Gaskill was the only one to question whether there is medical proof that the silver solution works.

"I just don't want a Howey medicine show," she said.

Regardless, the latest edition of Council Talk, the town newsletter that arrived in mailboxes this week, told residents of the "simple solution" to fight anthrax and provided police Chief Curtis Robbins' number as a contact for more information. The chief has said a friend of his with cancer was helped by the stuff.

Colloidal silver actually is nothing new. Silver was, indeed, used through the 1930s as a preservative, especially in milk, and it was routinely added to nose drops for allergies through the 1950s.

That's when doctors began to notice that people using silver for a long period were turning ashen-gray or blue, a condition called argyria. So manufacturers stopped using silver in the mixtures.

As diseases became more resistant to antibiotics, however, some alternative-medicine advocates began encouraging use of colloidal silver and selling generators to make it.

The devices use silver rods as electrodes, which are inserted into a container of water. When the electrodes are hooked to batteries or an electrical transformer, electrolysis causes tiny particles of silver to become suspended in the fluid. The amount of time the generator runs determines the strength of the silver in the mixture.

By the mid-1990s, the FDA had begun warning colloidal-silver marketers to stop selling it as a medicine; last year, at least 18 Web-based marketers got such warnings.

Also last year, as part of "Operation Cure.All," the FTC charged a Central Florida company, Palm Bay-based Aaron Co., with fraudulent marketing of the stuff on the Web.

Without admitting it violated a law, the company paid fines and refunded money to customers.

Still, sales of colloidal silver are rising.

Since the Sept. 11 attacks, business is up 10 percent, said Yvonne Hengst, who sells it from Delaware via her Web site. Indeed, since the terrorist acts, she herself has been drinking a half-ounce a day of the elixir.

"This is something that people really need and use, especially now with the anthrax scare," Hengst said. "You're crazy not to."

What does the FDA say?

Colloidal silver can't be considered safe.

(Follow-up)

HOWEY'S SMALL-TOWN DRAMA GETS EVEN JUICIER
THE MAYOR QUIT OVER THE COLLOIDAL SILVER FIASCO, BUT NOT BEFORE TWO COUNCIL MEMBERS STEPPED DOWN

HOWEY-IN-THE-HILLS -- The mayor who promoted what health officials labeled a quack remedy for anthrax has resigned -- to the response of whistles and cheers by residents who say he turned the sleepy small town into the butt of jokes.

Two other Town Council members also have resigned, leaving the town of 950 in limbo without a voting quorum.

"It's because of the colloidal silver and all that crap," Town Clerk Janise Bennett said Tuesday, a day after Mayor Greg Bittner resigned, two years into his term.

In announcing his resignation Monday night, Bittner said he felt as if a holy war had been declared against him.

"We've sort of had a jihad in this town for about a year now against the mayor," he said.

Bittner had touted colloidal silver as a cure for anthrax in the October town newsletter, and said he would buy the town a $100 colloidal-silver "generator" to produce the elixir for use by residents.

Though medical authorities blasted Bittner over his unbridled enthusiasm for colloidal silver -- he had called it "the greatest medicinal item that has ever come along" -- the mayor refused to back away from his views.

The town issued a "retraction" the following month in the newsletter Council Talk, telling residents, "If you are sick, your doctor should prescribe the medication best for you."

The accumulation of several small-town controversies -- including a flap over whether the independent library should join the county system -- prompted the mayor's resignation Monday night.

The colloidal silver brouhaha was "the straw that broke the camel's back," interim mayor Scott Kearney said.

"He didn't drop it, he still believes in it, and it made the people very uncomfortable," he said. "The citizens worried it could become a liability suit."

Health officials call colloidal silver a fraud and in 1999 the federal government slapped a ban on marketing it as a remedy.

Experts say it can turn human skin blue and gray, and that it's no magic potion for anthrax, potentially deadly bacteria that have been spread in the mail since the Sept. 11 terrorists attacks.

Kearney, who wants to succeed Bittner, said he hopes to return normalcy to Howey.

"The town wants to be boring again," he said.

Council member Lynda Childs resigned last week, saying she was returning to work full time.

At Monday's meeting, council members were discussing how to fill Childs' position when council member Tennyson Legg handed Bittner his resignation letter and walked out of the Town Hall to applause.

"It has become evident that no matter what is accomplished, there will always be those which will never be satisfied," Legg's letter said. "Therefore, I do not wish to waste my time as councilperson."

Legg, who could not be reached for comment, was mayor pro tem. So Bittner appointed Kearney to that position, foreshadowing his departure.

"Without a mayor pro tem, I can't leave town," he said.

Shortly after, Bittner said he, too, was leaving. He said he could handle the criticism but added, "However, in recent months the drive-by shootings have started to hit the people around me."

When asked Tuesday why he resigned, Bittner said he had given his reason at the meeting, and then hung up the telephone.

At the meeting, Bittner talked about a town secretary who had heard from some friends that the mayor was going to fire her. Bittner said he told her he had no intention of firing her, and that they are not her friends.

"These people are operating on an agenda that will step on your face," he said. "This has got to stop. Tonight it stops."

Then, he ordered Kearney to "take charge."

Kearney said Gov. Jeb Bush can make appointments down to the county level, but not the municipal level. He expects a judge to set an election date.

Kearney, who can sign checks to ensure that the business side of Howey continues to run, said he wants to "lift the spirit of the town."

"I've already seen a change in the attitude of the town," he said.