Clarence Borel’s name echoes through history as a symbol of defiance against corporate negligence. His 1973 case, Borel v. Fibreboard Paper Products Corporation, marked the first successful product liability lawsuit against asbestos manufacturers, dismantling a wall of silence that had shielded the industry for decades. Filed in 1969 in the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Texas, Borel sued 11 companies, alleging their failure to warn him of asbestos dangers led to his terminal mesothelioma. The jury’s verdict, upheld by the Fifth Circuit in 1973, awarded his widow, Freida, significant damages, setting a precedent that transformed asbestos litigation. This article explores Borel’s life, the full roster of defendants, their efforts to conceal asbestos risks, the legal battle’s twists—including settlements and the unraveling of a conspiracy—and its enduring legacy in law, industry, and public health.
Clarence Borel was a Texan everyman whose courage rewrote legal history. Born in 1913, he began working as an industrial insulator in 1936, a trade that took him to shipyards, refineries, and construction sites across Texas. For 33 years, he handled asbestos insulation—coveted for its fire resistance—unaware that its fibers were a silent killer. His 1969 complaint paints a grim picture: Borel “was required to handle large quantities” of asbestos products, inhaling dust and fibers as he worked in confined spaces alongside others. By the 1960s, his health faltered—shortness of breath, coughing, and fatigue signaled asbestosis. In 1969, at 56, he was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a rare cancer tied to asbestos exposure. The complaint details his anguish: “clubbing of the fingers and toes,” reliance on oxygen, sleeplessness, and a “very dim” future. Unable to work, he lost his livelihood. Borel died on June 3, 1970, but his lawsuit, filed with attorney Ward Stephenson, sought $1 million, igniting a fight that outlived him.
Borel’s complaint named 11 asbestos manufacturers, accusing them of negligence, breach of warranty, and strict liability under the Uniform Commercial Code. These firms supplied the insulation he encountered over his career. Here’s the full list from the 1969 filing:
Fibreboard Paper Products Corporation: Produced PABCO asbestos insulation, widely used in industrial settings like refineries and ships for its heat resistance. Its asbestos pipes and boards were staples in Borel’s workplaces.
Pittsburgh Corning Corporation: Manufactured Unibestos, a high-temperature asbestos insulation for pipes and machinery, exposing workers like Borel to its fibrous dust during installation.
Johns-Manville Products Corporation: Marketed a vast array of asbestos goods, including Transite pipe, roofing felts, and JM insulation blocks, all pervasive in Borel’s 33-year career.
Philip Carey Corporation: Known for Carey asbestos insulation and pipe coverings, these products released fibers when cut or applied, endangering insulators like Borel.
Armstrong Contracting and Supply Corporation: Supplied Armaspray asbestos coatings and cork-asbestos composites, used in industrial insulation and inhaled by workers in dusty environments.
Ruberoid Company, Division of GAF Corporation: Produced Ruberoid asbestos roofing and Calsilite insulation, materials Borel handled or worked near, releasing toxic dust.
Unarco Industries, Inc.: Made Unarcoboard insulation and asbestos textiles, common in shipyards and factories where Borel toiled, shedding fibers into the air.
Standard Asbestos Manufacturing and Insulating Company: Offered asbestos millboard and pipe insulation, contributing to the pervasive dust Borel breathed on job sites.
Owens-Corning Fiberglas Corporation: Developed Kaylo insulation, a lightweight asbestos product for pipes and ovens, marketed heavily despite known risks Borel faced.
Eagle-Picher Industries, Inc.: Sold asbestos cement and Insul-Mastic sealants, used in construction and insulation, exposing Borel to fibers during application.
Combustion Engineering, Inc.: Provided asbestos boiler insulation and refractory materials, though Borel’s exposure to these was less proven, leading to its dismissal.
Borel charged these companies with knowing their products were “deleterious, poisonous, and highly harmful” yet failing to warn or protect him. He invoked res ipsa loquitur—the harm spoke for itself—asserting their control over the products caused his injuries.
Borel’s lawsuit didn’t just seek damages—it peeled back layers of a decades-old conspiracy among asbestos companies to conceal the mineral’s dangers. Johns-Manville (JM), the industry titan, was a ringleader. As early as the 1930s, JM funded studies at Saranac Laboratory in New York, led by Dr. Leroy Gardner, to assess asbestos risks. Gardner’s 1940s research linked asbestos to cancer in animal tests, but JM barred him from publishing these findings without approval. Before his 1946 death, Gardner protested this suppression, yet JM buried the results. In 1949, JM’s plant physician, Dr. Kenneth Smith, found asbestosis in seven workers but advised against informing them, writing, “As long as the man is not disabled, he should not be told… so the company can benefit by his many years of experience.” This callous policy kept workers in the dark.
Unarco Industries, another defendant, was complicit in this cover-up, exemplified by a chilling incident over a lunch with JM executives. In the early 1940s, Charles Roemer, a former Unarco employee, recalled a meeting with JM’s corporate attorney Vandiver Brown its CEO, Lewis Brown. When Unarco managers considered notifying workers with asbestosis, Vandiver scoffed, calling them fools. Roemer pressed, “Do you mean to tell me you would let them work until they dropped dead?” Lewis Brown replied, “Yes. We save a lot of money that way.” This exchange, later revealed in a 1984 deposition, underscored a conspiracy of silence—JM and Unarco prioritized profits over lives, hiding asbestos’s lethal toll. Roemer stated that he'd never forgotten that lunch because it was the only time in his life that he was served lobster for lunch. This is what Roemer wrote about the incident in a 1982 affidavit:
"...Vandiver Brown stated that Johns-Manville's physical examination program had, indeed, also produced findings of x-ray evidence of asbestos disease among workers exposed to asbestos and that it was Johns-Manville's policy not to do anything nor to tell the employees of the x-ray findings. Vandiver Brown went on to say that it was foolish for us to be concerned and that if Johns-Manville's workers were told, they would stop working and file claims against Johns-Manville, and that it was Johns-Manville's policy to let them work until quit work because of asbestosis or died as a result of asbestos-related diseases."
Other defendants played roles in this deception. Owens-Corning Fiberglas was told in 1943 that its upcoming product Kaylo had all of the makings of "a first class hazard" by a consultant. Rather than heed that warning, it commissioned Saranac to test its Kaylo insulation and learned that Kaylo was a hazard "either to employees engaged in the manufacture of it or to others in the use or installation of it." Instead of warning users, it marketed Kaylo as “non-toxic” in the 1950s. Fibreboard, Pittsburgh Corning, and Philip Carey, among others, followed the industry’s lead, issuing no warnings before the mid-1960s despite mounting evidence. By 1964, JM added a vague label — “Inhalation… over long periods may be harmful” — but it was too late for Borel and thousands like him. Borel’s lawsuit cracked this façade, exposing a coordinated effort to suppress science and evade accountability.
Not all 11 defendants faced the jury. Four—Standard Asbestos Manufacturing and Insulating Company, Unarco Industries, Inc., Owens-Corning Fiberglas Corporation, and Eagle-Picher Industries, Inc.—settled with Freida Borel before trial, paying $20,902.20 collectively. These firms were deemed joint tortfeasors, their products contributing to Borel’s death. The trial proceeded against six: Fibreboard, Pittsburgh Corning, Johns-Manville, Philip Carey, Armstrong, and Ruberoid. Combustion Engineering was dismissed via an instructed verdict, as Borel couldn’t prove exposure to its products.
Ward Stephenson, Borel’s attorney, launched the case on October 20, 1969, in Judge Joe Fisher’s Beaumont courtroom. After Borel’s 1970 death, Freida became the plaintiff under Texas wrongful death statutes. The trial began September 21, 1971, with Stephenson arguing negligence, breach of warranty, and strict liability—a doctrine Texas adopted in 1967, per the Texas State Historical Association. Defense attorneys George Weller, John Tucker, and Gordon Pate countered that asbestos risks were unclear and Borel assumed them, but Stephenson’s evidence of industry knowledge prevailed.
On September 29, 1971, the jury, led by foreman Roy Jenkins, ruled:
Negligence (Interrogatory No. 1): Yes, all six defendants’ negligence caused Borel’s injuries and death.
Gross Negligence (No. 2): No, lacking “heedless and reckless disregard” for punitive damages.
Contributory Negligence (No. 3): No, Borel wasn’t at fault.
Breach of Warranty (No. 4): Yes, all six violated warranties, supporting strict liability.
Damages (No. 5): $68,000 in actual damages; none for gross negligence.
The $68,000 covered lost wages and suffering, a modest sum for a life lost.
Judge Fisher’s November 30, 1971, judgment adjusted the award: $9,783.30 in medical costs and $1,652.94 in funeral expenses raised the total to $79,436.24. Subtracting the $20,902.20 settlement, Freida received $58,534.04, payable jointly by the six defendants with 6% interest. Each faced a $9,755.67 cap, with contribution rights if one overpaid. National Surety Company, an intervenor, took $8,578.85 from the award, leaving Freida just over $35,000 after legal fees, per the TSHA—a sum delayed until 1974 by appeals.
The asbestos companies appealed to the Fifth Circuit, filing on April 29, 1972. Oral arguments occurred November 14, 1972, before Judges John Minor Wisdom, Elbert Tuttle, and John Milton Bryan Simpson. Ward Stephenson, battling cancer himself, argued for Freida. On September 10, 1973, the court affirmed the verdict, cementing strict liability. The U.S. Supreme Court denied review in 1974. Tragically, Stephenson died of cancer in April 1973, before the ruling—but the TSHA notes he was notified of his victory beforehand, a bittersweet triumph as he followed Borel to the grave. Stephenson’s strategy, honed in earlier cases like Claude Tomplait’s, made Borel a landmark, per the TSHA.
Borel wasn’t just a win—it was the beginning of the end for a conspiracy spanning half a century. Since the 1930s, companies like JM and Unarco had colluded to hide asbestos’s toll, from Saranac’s suppressed cancer findings to the “lobster lunch” admission of worker exploitation. Raybestos-Manhattan, another industry player, pressured Asbestos magazine in 1935 to avoid health stories, a pact lasting until 1969. Borel’s case, bolstered by discovery of internal memos, tore this veil apart. The jury’s verdict and Fifth Circuit’s ruling exposed that with respect to safety, the industry had an “ostrich-like attitude,” as JM’s Vandiver Brown once called it. This verdict triggered what author Paul Brodeur termed “the greatest avalanche of toxic-tort litigation” in U.S. history—25,000 lawsuits in a single decade.
Borel redefined liability. Stephenson’s use of strict liability—codified in the Restatement (Second) of Torts (1965)—shifted the burden: companies were liable if their products were unreasonably dangerous and unwarned, negligence aside. The Fifth Circuit’s opinion, penned by Judge Wisdom, held that asbestos’s dangers were known by the 1930s, making warnings a duty. This eased proof for plaintiffs, turning industry documents into weapons against concealment.
The verdict’s fallout was seismic:
Lawsuit Surge: Over 730,000 claims by 2002 cost $70 billion, bankrupting firms like JM, which formed a $2.5 billion trust in 1988. The JM trust paid it's one millionth claim in 2024, and by 2025, trusts have paid over $20 billion.
Regulatory Shift: OSHA and EPA tightened rules, leading to a 1989 U.S. partial ban and global restrictions, though asbestos lingers in some nations.
Public Awareness: Borel’s story, amplified by media, spurred screenings and safety demands.
Freida’s $58,534.04—about $450,000 today—was modest, but it set a compensation benchmark.
In 2025, Borel remains a legal touchstone that is still cited regularly by attorneys and court opinions. Strict liability, joint liability, and trust funds trace back to Borel’s fight, offering victims hope decades later. His granddaughter, Bridget Bersin, shared in a 2016 New Solutions article how his reluctant stand reshaped lives—a legacy of one man’s courage.
Clarence Borel died in 1970, never seeing his case’s climax. Ward Stephenson, dying in 1973, missed the final ruling but knew he’d won. The lawsuit against 11 firms—four settling, six liable—exposed a conspiracy, secured $58,534.04 for Freida, and rewrote history. Borel v. Fibreboard ended decades of deceit, empowered victims, and bolstered safety.
Learn more about Borel's case at the Texas State Historical Association’s entry.
