As fires burn and supply chains buckle, workers and watchdogs question what’s really happening behind BioLab’s glossy trade show displays
At a glitzy pool and spa convention in Nashville, executives shake hands, smile for photos, and preach pool safety like gospel. But just months earlier, a massive chemical fire tore through one of their key plants in Georgia. The air was thick with smoke. Schools closed. Residents were warned to stay indoors.
The company behind it all? BioLab—one of the biggest names in pool chemicals.
A Chemical Blaze That Wouldn’t Go Away
The Sept. 29 fire in Conyers, Georgia, was bad. Really bad.
Flames engulfed part of BioLab’s facility, setting off a plume of smoke that stretched for miles. It wasn’t just dramatic — it was dangerous. Residents nearby complained of burning eyes, headaches, and breathing problems for weeks. Local emergency officials scrambled. The EPA had to step in.
Two weeks later, the black smoke had faded, but not the fear. What exactly burned? Were toxins released? And perhaps most important — how did this happen again?
Because it wasn’t the first time.
A Pattern of Fire and Fog
BioLab has a history. Ask anyone in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Back in August 2020, Hurricane Laura hit hard — and BioLab’s plant there caught fire. It burned for nearly three days. Chlorine released into the air turned parts of the sky a sickly yellow. The images went viral.
This wasn’t a freak incident. It was part of a pattern.
A pattern that has now repeated in Georgia. And while the company issues the usual statements — “we’re investigating,” “safety is our top priority,” “working with regulators” — former workers say the reality on the ground feels very different.
“Nothing’s changed,” one former employee told us. “We’ve been saying for years it was a matter of time.”
Behind the Trade Show Booths, a More Dangerous Reality
At the Nashville expo, BioLab’s booth was flashy. Uniforms crisp, safety pamphlets stacked neatly. They were offering training sessions on chemical storage and handling.
But inside their own plants? Workers describe a world of leaks, broken equipment, and rushed repairs. One technician described a recurring pool of liquid forming under a line of drums. He reported it repeatedly. “They just threw down absorbent pads,” he said, shaking his head.
Others mentioned:
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Recurring headaches after long shifts in certain sections
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Safety gear reused and sometimes not replaced for months
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Storage shelves sagging under the weight of improperly stacked containers
One worker said simply, “We’re the ones breathing that stuff in, not the guys in suits at trade shows.”
From Poolside Profits to National Shortages
The irony? Despite all this, BioLab remains essential.
It supplies a huge chunk of the nation’s pool chemicals. When their Louisiana plant burned in 2020, the impact hit fast. Chlorine tablet prices surged. Shortages followed. Pool owners scrambled, and big-box retailers struggled to restock.
Here’s what that looked like after the 2020 fire:
Year | Avg. Chlorine Price (per 50lb) | Reported Shortages (%) |
---|---|---|
2019 | $95 | 3% |
2020 | $140 | 28% |
2021 | $160 | 43% |
The Conyers fire could send prices even higher this summer. And it’s not just backyard pools. Municipal pools, hotels, and water parks could all feel the hit.
No Easy Oversight, No Real Accountability
Why isn’t this being stopped? That’s the big question.
Chemical plants like BioLab operate under a tangled web of local, state, and federal oversight. The EPA, OSHA, local fire marshals — they’re all supposed to keep tabs. But in practice? It’s patchy.
One former EPA analyst told us off-record, “These plants often self-report. Unless someone dies or there’s a major environmental spill, it’s hard to push back.”
Even then, consequences are light. Fines are small compared to profits. And companies often settle quietly.
Meanwhile, workers who speak out risk losing their jobs. Several of the employees who talked to us requested anonymity. One said, “They make it clear—if you cause trouble, you’re gone.”
The Human Cost Beyond the Factory Walls
At a nearby school in Conyers, the fire triggered shelter-in-place orders. Kids weren’t allowed outside. Local parents were furious. “My daughter was coughing all night,” one mother said.
Another woman, who lives less than a mile from the plant, still has questions. “Are the chemicals gone? Is the air safe? No one told us anything.”
The company said it conducted air tests and found “no lasting risk.” But they haven’t shared those full results publicly.
That lack of transparency has left a bad taste — especially for a company that builds its public image on trust and safety.