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ECHOES OF THE EAST PALESTINE DERAILMENT
Residents affected by the East Palestine train derailment never expected the past year to go the way it has. While the train derailment itself was traumatic enough, the aftermath has continued to have ripple effects that could be lifelong.
‘A humming in the background’: Trauma in the aftermath of the East Palestine train derailment
By Dani Brown, Director of Strategic Communication at RiverWise
Heart failure never held back Rob Two-Hawks from living his fullest life.
Rob has been an avid organic gardener for more than 50 years. He enjoys walking the streets of East Palestine multiple times a week to chat with neighbors, run some errands, and stay as active as possible. It’s part of his wellness — being a good neighbor, going on walks, and doing lots of writing in his spare time.
Rob has an unusual heart condition. Known as mitochondrial cardiomyopathy, he said only a small number of cardiologists in the country treat the disease.
Despite his illness, Rob kept on moving until February 3, 2023, when a Norfolk Southern train derailed in East Palestine, Ohio, and wreaked unimaginable havoc on the small town just along the border between eastern Ohio and southwest Pennsylvania.
A freight train derailed at roughly 9 p.m. on a Friday night in February. The train was carrying cargo from Madison, Illinois, to Conway, Pennsylvania. Approximately 20 of the more than 100 train cars housed hazardous chemicals, according to reporting from the Associated Press, including 14 carrying vinyl chloride. The chemicals in those cars were later emitted into the air through a “controlled release.” The delayed chemical release was intended to mitigate a potential explosion, experts said at the time.
The train derailed a half-mile from Rob’s home. He witnessed the smoke and fire that enveloped the sky following both the derailment and release.
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“Three quarters of the sky was covered,” Rob said. “So that gives you some sense of what was hovering over and how wide of an area — and it kept moving, of course. And then things got interesting for me.”
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Just two days following the chemical release, the community was told all was well by Ohio Governor Mike DeWine and the state Environmental Protection Agency. The water, soil, air — everything — was declared safe. Residents who were told to evacuate could return.
Rob trusted the authorities and did as instructed. He started on his weekly walk to town, acting as normally as he could knowing a train exploded nearby. But something was different as he started his walk. He didn’t feel quite right.
“I was stopped like I hit a stone wall,” Rob said. His body just said, “No.”
“I love to walk,” he added. “I walk downtown. I don’t go as far or as fast because of the heart failure. But I usually head down three times a week. Just two days after the derailment, I couldn’t get there. I couldn’t do it.”
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Before the derailment, he’d typically walk roughly three-fourths of a mile to the downtown area. He said he could walk down the road just fine prior to Feb. 3, and sometimes he’d take two or three stops on the way home to make the trip a little lighter.
“But two days after the derailment, I couldn’t get a block downtown,” he said. “I tried again in a few days; I tried again in a week. Then, I said, ‘I can’t do this.’”
Rob hasn’t been able to walk his normal distance since. That was roughly 10 months ago.
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‘It’s been traumatic.’
Residents affected by the East Palestine train derailment never expected the past year to go the way it has. While the train derailment itself was traumatic enough, the aftermath has continued to have ripple effects that could be lifelong.
“It is a fight to get attention,” Rob said, “to get the unmet personal and community needs taken care of, especially when (we) feel that so many others have failed (us).”
Zsuzsa Gyenes is one of the fighters.
Since April 2023, Zsuzsa and her son have lived in a hotel room in Cranberry Township.
For the two months following the derailment, she lived in multiple hotels because pollution seemed to follow her wherever she landed.
After the train derailed, she and her son evacuated to Chippewa Township, Pennsylvania, roughly 10 miles from East Palestine. But when the chemical release occurred, she wanted to move farther away, as some reports showed the plume could travel many miles. She didn’t want to risk it.
So, she ended up in a hotel in Center Township — one of the few places that would allow her to stay longer-term with pets.
But on Feb. 13, just ten days later, Shell’s ethane cracker plant in Potter Township, less than a mile from her Center Township hotel, malfunctioned, resulting in a flaring event that could be seen from more than 25 miles away. That incident was one of dozens of violations produced by the plastics plant in only four months of being operational.
Zsuzsa knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t risk her son breathing in more toxic air. She eventually landed in Cranberry Township, where she, her son, and their two cats have lived since the spring.
Living in a hotel has been maddening at times, Zsuzsa said.
“With our two cats and my son, who is very active, we’ve got his bike in here and everything else. It was very cramped and felt like we were on top of each other, and we still kind of do,” she said. “I just want to go back to a normal house. I didn’t choose to live in a hotel. And it’s stressful to think everyday about how we’re not back to normal. We’re just still misplaced.”
It’s been traumatic for Zsuzsa and her family for many reasons, especially the unpredictability of the day-to-day. In addition to displacement, her son continues to have a bizarre rash that won’t go away. It’s a rash he never had prior to the derailment.
“Federal poison control told me that our symptoms match an allergic reaction to a chemical irritant,” she said. She was given instructions to go to her primary care physician, but she said she hasn’t received answers.
She feels helpless.
“We just were getting turned down and it felt like there was nowhere to turn to. My son keeps getting this rash on his face that he’d never had before the derailment. It can’t be explained by anything else right now. It just comes and goes, and they don’t know what it is,” she said. “How do you just live with that?”
“It’s dehumanizing,” she added.
Even the act of moving away has created trauma for her and her son, and many others affected by the derailment. The lack of security and familiarity are at times too much.
“Some people have lived there (in East Palestine) for 60 years or for generations… That’s traumatizing to believe that everything’s just gone. It’s like watching your whole planet get blown up,” Zsuzsa said.
And as a mother, Zsuzsa wonders how to explain the complexities of the situation to her son while still making him feel safe and heard.
“It’s hard as a mom to try to explain it, too, because it’s like, am I supposed to tell him he’s not supposed to trust the government? I don’t want him to feel like you can’t trust anybody. It’s hard to navigate. I just don’t want him to feel afraid, and I don’t want him to feel powerless,” she said.
Candice Desanzo knows what powerlessness can feel like.
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But on Feb. 13, just ten days later, Shell’s ethane cracker plant in Potter Township, less than a mile from her Center Township hotel, malfunctioned, resulting in a flaring event that could be seen from more than 25 miles away. That incident was one of dozens of violations produced by the plastics plant in only four months of being operational.
Zsuzsa knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t risk her son breathing in more toxic air. She eventually landed in Cranberry Township, where she, her son, and their two cats have lived since the spring.
Living in a hotel has been maddening at times, Zsuzsa said.
“With our two cats and my son, who is very active, we’ve got his bike in here and everything else. It was very cramped and felt like we were on top of each other, and we still kind of do,” she said. “I just want to go back to a normal house. I didn’t choose to live in a hotel. And it’s stressful to think everyday about how we’re not back to normal. We’re just still misplaced.”
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It’s been traumatic for Zsuzsa and her family for many reasons, especially the unpredictability of the day-to-day. In addition to displacement, her son continues to have a bizarre rash that won’t go away. It’s a rash he never had prior to the derailment.
“Federal poison control told me that our symptoms match an allergic reaction to a chemical irritant,” she said. She was given instructions to go to her primary care physician, but she said she hasn’t received answers.
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She feels helpless.
“We just were getting turned down and it felt like there was nowhere to turn to. My son keeps getting this rash on his face that he’d never had before the derailment. It can’t be explained by anything else right now. It just comes and goes, and they don’t know what it is,” she said. “How do you just live with that?”
“It’s dehumanizing,” she added.
Even the act of moving away has created trauma for her and her son, and many others affected by the derailment. The lack of security and familiarity are at times too much.
“Some people have lived there (in East Palestine) for 60 years or for generations… That’s traumatizing to believe that everything’s just gone. It’s like watching your whole planet get blown up,” Zsuzsa said.
And as a mother, Zsuzsa wonders how to explain the complexities of the situation to her son while still making him feel safe and heard.
“It’s hard as a mom to try to explain it, too, because it’s like, am I supposed to tell him he’s not supposed to trust the government? I don’t want him to feel like you can’t trust anybody. It’s hard to navigate. I just don’t want him to feel afraid, and I don’t want him to feel powerless,” she said.
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Candice Desanzo knows what powerlessness can feel like.
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The mother of five lives in her childhood home in East Palestine. After the train derailed, Candice and her family stayed home for about four weeks. But in the wake of the derailment, her children started getting sick, which was rare, she said.
“My kids had never been sick, ever. The one and two year old never had an ear infection, never had a cough, nothing,” she said.
But while staying in her home, Candice said, “I had them at the pediatrician, probably two or three times a week, because these kids could not breathe. Every time I’d wake them up in the morning, they’d have drool with blood pooled in the drool.”
She and her family — including her cat and two dogs — briefly moved out of town to escape sickness. For residents within a one-mile radius, Norfolk Southern offered to pay for relocating families. But those affected families had to front the costs.
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“We lived in Airbnbs, hotels, and we actually had to bring a trailer when we’d have to move from place to place because in order to maintain life somewhere with that many children, it’s no easy task,” Candice said.
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She returned home because she felt almost forced to.
“I felt like I was forced back home because (Norfolk Southern wasn’t) giving me viable options to maintain a stable life outside of living in my home. They wanted me to stay in a hotel. But you can’t stay in a hotel room with two 70-pound dogs, a cat and four kids,” she said.
Since she returned, she’s been fighting for the health and safety of her children and all those affected by the derailment.
“If I turn a blind eye to what is going on here, I fail my children,” Candice said.
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Trauma can be like ‘a humming in the background’.
Dr. Maureen Lichtveld is Dean of the University of Pittsburgh School of Public Health. She has conducted research that examines the cumulative impact of chemical and non-chemical stressors on communities facing environmental health threats, disasters, and health disparities.
Since the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York City in 2001, Dr. Lichtveld has held leadership roles in research and practice related to disaster preparedness and disaster management. In her extensive research and practical experience, she said trauma doesn’t come out of nowhere, but it can take time to show up.
“In some people — not everybody — but in some people and I particularly worry about in kids, it’s like a humming in the background. Something very little could trigger it again,” Dr. Lichtveld said. “For example, if a child has to move again or change schools again.”
During her research in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina in August 2005, she and her team found the number one reason children ended up in the emergency room was due to mold exposure that exacerbated their asthma. But the second reason was much different.
“The second most reason (the children) had exacerbation and needed to visit the emergency room was because they lost a pet or they changed schools more than twice in a year,” Dr. Lichtveld said. “So, these are the triggers that can happen over time.”
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The emotional trauma of losing a pet or being forced to change schools again brought up physical symptoms in many of the children impacted by the hurricane. Trauma can take a while to kick in for some folks, especially for the most vulnerable, like children, but the potential for a trauma-response is always there.