On the evening of 3 February I was at home in East Palestine, Ohio, watching a movie with my granddaughters, when my daughter Adyson called and asked, “Dad, what’s going on downtown?” I looked out the window and there was an orange glow in the sky. I turned the movie down to talk to my daughter but she’d hung up. Ten minutes later she called back and said, “We’re coming to get you.”
We went to try to figure out what had happened and it was like driving into a cloud – smoke was billowing overhead. A Norfolk Southern freight train had derailed. You could see the flames over the tops of nearby houses and feel the heat from several hundred feet away. Huge clouds of smoke were spreading from the crash site over our town.
We initially thought that a coal train had caught fire. We learned later that 38 cars of industrial supplies, including at least 11 cars of toxic chemicals, had derailed. Another 12 cars were damaged by fire. The train’s spilled cargo included vinyl chloride, a chemical that causes liver cancer.
People in the immediate area of the derailment were ordered to evacuate, in case of an explosion. The rest of us were told to shelter in place. By Saturday, the next morning, the air was full of smog. I was supposed to take my girls to a school basketball game; I told them to pull their hoodies up over their mouths.
On Sunday, the EPA officials said that they did not detect any contaminants in the air. But my granddaughters had developed blotches all over their bodies. They looked like burns, as if they’d spent too much time next to a sun lamp. My seven-year-old granddaughter’s leg was beet-red. They were coughing and their eyes were burning. I began to experience constant headaches and a nagging cough.
My wife’s cousin is a cancer researcher at Stanford. She called us and said, “Get the girls the hell out of there.” The railroad company had given us a voucher for two nights at a hotel, so we drove to an inn about 15 miles away.
On 6 February, officials decided to “burn off” the vinyl chloride rather than risk it exploding. The EPA said that there was a small uptick in toxins near the burn site and that it was to be expected. Dead fish started turning up in streams.
After a couple of days out of town my granddaughters’ rashes started to fade but we all continued coughing. I’ve been an athlete all my life. I don’t smoke or drink and was a pretty decent basketball player for many years. I’ve never had a persistent cough like this before.
On 8 February, authorities lifted the evacuation order. The EPA said its testing showed that the air and water were safe. We didn’t trust that assessment. Part of my family went to a relative’s house in West Virginia. Each time I’ve gone to East Palestine to check on my house my headaches start again.
It’s now been six weeks since the wreck. I dread night-time because when I lie down to sleep the constant coughing starts. My wife of 35 years woke me up recently because my breathing was so bad; she said I sounded like I had fluid in my lungs. Other people are having similar experiences. The ER doctors say it is chemical bronchitis.
I’ve lost 15 pounds due to stress and anxiety. In addition to all the unexpected expenses, I’m paying for a home that I don’t live in and I don’t know yet whether insurance will help. They’ve been saying that they don’t cover “chemical spills”. Other people are even less lucky – they can’t afford to leave. Our friend’s son keeps having nosebleeds.
Before the derailment I was a happy grandfather who got to see my granddaughters every day at my house. Now my family is split all over the place and living out of suitcases. Every day we struggle with online schooling. The girls are desperate for our life to get back to the way it used to be.
Each of us has moments when we break down. We just want to be back in our homes. I am a 61-year-old man and I’ve never cried this much in my life. My daughter Adyson is a very, very strong woman – she started working at a bank four and a half years ago, and within three years she was leading her own branch – and she’s calling me every other day crying.
I don’t believe the government or railway company’s claims that our town is safe. You hate to say that they’re lying, but they are. Some families don’t plan to come back at all. That breaks my heart. We have such a tight-knit community here.
At this point the best-case scenario is that they get this town really cleaned up to the point where independent scientists say it’s safe. If we have real assurance, and stop experiencing symptoms, perhaps the town can start to return to normal.
Greg Mascher is a grandfather and concerned resident of East Palestine, Ohio