WASHINGTON - Did you hear about the sweat shirt that can catch fire? Or the cedar chest that can turn into a coffin? Probably not.
Although makers of both products ordered recalls, the word rarely gets very far.
That is the flaw in one of the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission's main strategies for policing the marketplace. In some cases, such as that of the cedar chest, the products are killing people years after manufacturer recalls.
"The recall process is ridiculous," said Marla Felcher, author of It's No Accident, a critique of safety measures for children's products. "They provide a false sense of security for parents. Most people don't know what 'recall' means."
In a recall, a company alerts consumers that one of its products is defective or even dangerous and asks them to return it.
To ensure the safety of about 15,000 home, school and recreation products, the CPSC relies mainly on consumer complaints to it or to the manufacturer, who must pass them on to the commission. In other cases, the agency's investigators initiate action against products that don't meet the specifications in its 800-page manual.
If the agency finds a product poses a risk of injury or death, negotiations begin with the manufacturer. Most makers voluntarily recall the products.
The CPSC posts warnings about products and recall notices on its Web site, but companies are not required to advertise recalls, pay customers for returning items or report the effectiveness of their efforts.
In most cases, only 15 percent to 30 percent of recalled products are recovered, said Sally Greenberg, senior product safety counsel for Consumers Union, a consumer information group based in Yonkers, N.Y.
"We strive to get to zero deaths, but there are 280 million people out there. It's hard to reach everyone" during a recall, said Hal Stratton, who recently was appointed chairman of the CPSC. "We can't send a letter to 280 million people. That's cost-prohibitive."
Ann Brown, Stratton's predecessor, said the recall system needed improvements to reduce deaths after recalls are issued.
"We depend on the press to get out the information, but if a parent doesn't see the Today show one morning or misses the newspaper, they can still have that product in their house," Brown said.
Consider the case of 12 million potentially lethal cedar chests, produced for 75 years by Lane Co., a furniture maker owned by Furniture Brands International of St. Louis. The chests, built airtight to keep out moths, lock when closed and cannot be opened from the inside.
One child died inside a Lane chest before the company redesigned the product in 1987. In 1996, Lane publicized the flaw in its chests and began offering free child-proof locks to owners who requested them.
But in August last year, three children ages 1, 3 and 7 suffocated after being trapped in one of the chests in their parents' bedroom while home alone in St. Louis. Also last year, two brothers ages 6 and 13 could not be revived after their mother found them in a chest in Springfield, Mass.
Lane thinks 6.5 million of its airtight chests are still out there. Only 150,000 owners have requested the child-proof locks.
"Simply getting the consumer to recognize the threat and making them pick up the phone is hands down the most difficult," said Marty Richmond, spokesman for Lane Co.
He added, "You'll never know if you are successful because of the child that didn't climb into the cedar chest and die."
Sometimes products can be recalled effectively if there is ample incentive for consumers.
In 2000, for example, Williams-Sonoma announced a recall of gas grills that could explode because of faulty shut-off valves. The company offered a full refund for the $200 grill and a $50 gift certificate. The return rate was 99 percent.
On the other hand, the BernzOmatic Co. of Medina, N.Y., has sought since 1987 to recall a low-budget gas heater built in the 1960s whose carbon monoxide emissions have killed at least 40 people. About 40,000 heaters were sold. Despite a $250 bounty on heaters that originally cost only $35, nearly 7,000 remain in use.
Items of negligible cost also cause problems. Burger King Corp., for example, initiated one of the largest and most expensive recalls in history after a 4-month-old suffocated on a Pokemon toy given out with kids' meals. A second child died despite national advertising about the danger.
Miami-based Burger King poured $1 million into putting warnings on television, takeout bags and tray liners.
"Our recall efforts became equal or stronger to the marketing campaign" for the Pokemon toys, said Marlene Gordon, senior attorney for Burger King and Burger King Brands. But fewer than half of Burger King's 25 million Pokemon toys were recovered, Gordon said.