The views expressed by contributors are their own and not the view of The Hill

6 months after the train crash, where is the help for East Palestine?

One night, as my 7-year-old son climbed into bed, he turned to me and asked, “Mommy, am I going to die?” Then, he began to sob.

Even after all we had been through, this was a new wound. It cut straight through me. I assured my son that no, he was not going to die from living in his own home. People are here to protect us, I said. Meanwhile, my mind raced. Did I tell my son a lie? Are we safe in East Palestine?

I honestly don’t know.

Six months ago, today, a train carrying toxic chemicals derailed in my hometown of East Palestine, Ohio, setting off a cascade of disruption for my family and thousands more — and not just in our town. Norfolk Southern purposefully released and ignited 115,000 gallons of vinyl chloride, a lethal flammable gas used to make PVC plastic, and a variety of other chemicals. The smoke wafted for miles. We braved evacuation orders, health scares, a federal investigation and a cleanup that continues.

These chemicals create dioxins and cause leukemia, lymphoma, liver cancer, brain cancer, and lung cancer. What’s worse, preliminary research suggests that infants and young children like mine may be significantly more susceptible to the ill effects.


At the beginning of this nightmare, the cameras were here, providing global visibility and accountability. Today, they are gone, but we are still fighting to regain our lives.

I am forever changed. My dreams of a storybook small-town existence are gone. We’re always on edge. I spend my free time sifting through data, urging elected officials to pay attention to us, and testifying before Congress about the dangers of toxic petrochemicals being shipped past playgrounds, schools, ballparks, village streets, across the country. I’ve added air purifiers in every room, changed sheets after bloody noses, and prayed more than ever. All the while, many residents, myself included, are getting our arms jabbed with needles and peeing in cups in hopes that our health testing yields insights into what our children are facing.

In East Palestine, we question the soil under our feet every day. Rather than cool off in our picturesque creeks as in years past, our kids act out a playground game they created called “Evacuation.” Instead of fishing at the city lake, families are unraveling while discussing if they should stay or go.

I am proud to be an American. It pains me to say that our community has been abandoned by our leaders. We don’t get to walk away from this. Even if we move, we’ll forever live with the toxic exposure and the trauma. No community is immune from a derailment disaster. Trains carrying toxic chemicals continue to speed through our neighborhoods. There’s a reason they’re called train bombs. On Feb. 3, it was our town, but it could be yours next.

It’s time to act.

I urge President Biden to declare an emergency as requested by Gov. Mike DeWine exactly one month ago — not only for Ohio but for Pennsylvania and West Virginia residents in the tri-state area. The U.S. government cannot continue to abandon East Palestine and the hundreds of communities subjected to petrochemical disasters each year, all in the name of making more plastic and putting profits over people.

Congress must pass and sign the Railway Safety Act of 2023 into law to improve train inspections, and mandate that more trains be subject to stringent safety requirements, including those carrying vinyl chloride gas. That isn’t going to solve the problem but it is a start. Norfolk Southern and other rail companies have fought against safety rules for carrying hazardous chemicals and now is the time to protect us from further catastrophes.

Lastly, the petrochemical industry must stop using toxic chemicals to make so many of the plastics we use every single day. We must restrict the use of vinyl chloride — the chemical that burned through our skies six months ago. The petrochemical industry should be held accountable for its contribution to a dangerous mess.

Shortly after the derailment, my mother lost her battle with cancer. She taught me to fight for what’s right; I hear her voice every day. On this six-month milestone, I urge our country not to find excuses. Let’s find a way out of this mess.

Misti Allison is a software product marketer based in East Palestine, Ohio, where she lives with her family. She is a member of Moms Clean Air Force, and holds a Master’s in Public Health.