To anyone driving along the Susquehanna River on South Cameron Street in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, it’s evident that the city’s trash incinerator is nearby.
It stinks. The incinerator looks efficient enough: a tangle of gray and yellow pipes that link a series of combustion chambers, with a six-story brick chimney popping up from the jungle gym of steel. Garbage trucks and cars towing U-Haul trailers roll into the drop-off warehouse, where they dump white and black bags of trash, discarded furniture, and other assorted waste. Inside the dump zone, a giant Transformers-like claw reaches down from the 50-foot ceiling and scoops up a mound of garbage bound for the inferno.
