Shawna Lewis didn’t want to leave her East Palestine home. It’s been in the family for more than 60 years, and she planned to raise her daughter, 7-year-old MacKenzie Davis, there, too.
But then came the daily headaches, the chemical odors, the unrelenting fear and anxiety, and the neighbors and friends who started to leave or discussed doing so. The place hasn’t been the same, not since the train crashed one mile away.
“Between social media and the news, you don’t know who to blame or what to believe,” she said. “You have people saying, ‘Get out right now. It’s unsafe.’ And then, on the other hand, you have people saying, ‘Oh, no, it’s good. You know, everything’s OK.’ I just can’t take it anymore.”
Ms. Lewis’ home is filled with six decades’ worth of memories. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)
For about a month after the derailment, Ms. Lewis, her daughter and fiancé Jesse Greathouse bounced in and out of hotels in Boardman, along with their dog and two cats.
The EPA cleared their home within that time after testing for VOCs — volatile organic compounds — in the air. But there were other concerns. Ms. Lewis noticed a rainbow sheen on the water that occasionally leaks in the basement. A putrid chemical smell worsened when it rained.
MacKenzie developed skin rashes, and she was sent home twice from school, Mr. Greathouse said.
Mr. Greathouse felt somewhat skeptical of the symptoms people initially reported until his family began experiencing them. He and Ms. Lewis also found out that their close neighbors were getting intense nose bleeds.
“That was kind of the line in the sand, like, ‘OK, we gotta do something,’” he said.
As more people they knew began expressing doubts about safety, the worry that came with staying became overwhelming.
The couple decided to lease a condo in Salem, about 18 miles west of East Palestine, for a year.
“I had to move because it just felt unsafe,” Ms. Lewis said. “The anxiety and the stress, living in fear constantly. I almost allowed my emotional attachment to become detrimental to our lives, and that’s scary.”
MacKenzie Davis began developing skin rashes after the derailment. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)
The pair hasn’t always agreed about next steps. Some days, he’s wanted to move out of East Palestine and she’s wanted to stay, and vice versa.
Ms. Lewis dwells on all the memories made in a house that her grandparents bought decades ago, where her mom grew up and where she lived on and off throughout her life.
She has an affinity for its small quirks, too: The kitchen boasts two ovens, because her grandma was “the baker of the town” years back.
“My grandparents and my parents passed away,” she said. “I have some aunts and uncles still alive, but this is like the last little part of my mom or grandma that I might have. It’s a big emotional struggle.”
Ms. Lewis only left East Palestine once, to live in Lisbon, Ohio. She came back a year later to move in with her grandmother, who was diagnosed with early onset dementia. She took care of her until she passed away last August at age 90.
(Lucy Schaly/Post-Gazette)
After her grandmother’s passing, Ms. Lewis and her fiancé planned to buy the house from her aunts and uncles, rather than selling it and splitting the money.
It’s an old structure in need of serious renovations — the basement is made of old sandstone and leaks severely when it rains — but they wanted to make it work. According to Zillow, the house was built in 1900.
“That’s the home I’ve always known,” she said. “I was just going to remodel it and raise my daughter there. That was my plan.”
Their current lives are a far cry from that plan. The family is pulled in numerous directions: They reside in Salem. She works in East Liverpool. He goes to work in Austintown and MacKenzie attends school in East Palestine.
Ms. Lewis’ commutes to work and MacKenzie’s school — roundtrip, five days a week — can total up to 2½ hours a day.
The family remains active in their church, just down the road from their East Palestine house, and MacKenzie participates in a youth basketball team. Not fully distancing the family from the town is a way to keep some stability in her daughter’s life, she said.
Shawna Lewis’ grandmother, left, and mother, right, joined her in the kitchen with MacKenzie as a baby. (Courtesy of Shawna Lewis)
“I question that often, just making the right decision with that,” she said. “I don’t really know; I’m just trying to keep it as normalized as possible for her and just keep us safe at the same time. She’s too young to completely understand what’s going on.”
The derailment has disrupted other parts of life, too, including wedding planning. The couple had hoped to schedule their nuptials for sometime this year.
Even when she’s outside of East Palestine, the stress of the derailment follows her. At work in East Liverpool, people talk about contamination in the Ohio River, though recent tests by Ohio Environmental Protection Agency detected no butyl acrylate and vinyl chloride there.
She can’t get the situation out of her mind.
“It’s constantly there,” she said. “I can’t concentrate. I can’t pay attention at work.”
Ms. Lewis and Mr. Greathouse both work for an outpatient behavioral health facility — a job that has taken on new meaning as Ms. Lewis has sought out mental health counseling herself since the derailment.
“I’m supposed to be the one helping people, and I can’t even help myself,” Ms. Lewis said.
East Palestine is home to about 4,700 people. (Associated Press)
When thinking about the future, Mr. Greathouse can see the family staying in Salem. It still has the small town vibe, with plenty of parks and good schools, and Ms. Lewis has some family there. But he’s grown to love East Palestine too, so the couple hasn’t ruled out a full return.
Then there are the financial considerations. Moving out of East Palestine means the family home would have to be sold, but they don’t know who would buy it. And if someone did, it would probably be for much less than its value before the derailment.
Staying in a devaluing home would feel like a financial risk, too.
“It just seems like we’re going to be in a big hole if we bought it,” he said. “It’s just tough all the way around.”
Similar to Doug Simpson, Mr. Greathouse saw more divide in the town about whether to leave earlier on. He’s found older generations tend to want to stay, but even that’s changing. He now believes more people would move out, at least for now, if they could afford it.
A man rolls up an “open” flag in East Palestine’s town center in March. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)
He’s seen even the most staunch believers in staying change their mind.
“There’s a strong sense of community and that’s what keeps people there, so I think it’s tough for a lot of people to actually leave,” Mr. Greathouse said. “But even talking to people at church, they were the ones to calm us down, like, ‘Oh no, everything’s fine. It’s going to be good.’ And now they’ve left, too.”
For now, the house sits in probate court. The couple plans to make a more concrete decision about their future in another six months.
“I just have to go with the flow and thank God every day that we’re alive and are safe,” Ms. Lewis said. “Go day by day.”
Jordan Anderson: janderson@post-gazettee.com
Hanna Webster: hwebster@post-gazette.com
Vicki Hoffman and Doug Simpson were watching television the night of Feb. 3 when police banged on their door.
