Flowing Towards the Future: Contamination and Consequences in Wayne, West Virginia
Hayden Hart, Jacob Shafer, Rebekah Stinnette, Daniel Walker
Hayden Hart, Jacob Shafer, Rebekah Stinnette, Daniel Walker
Imagine turning on your shower and smelling an intense odor reminiscent of oil and gasoline, almost like a gas station. Imagine washing your hands after cooking, only to see a murky brown tint to the water. It sounds like some kind of nightmare, a bad dream that you’d happily wake up from minutes later. However, for the residents of Wayne, West Virginia, this was their reality for some time. Three days passed after people started reporting these conditions, and during this time, there was no official recognition of what was happening. On January 13th, 2026, local residents in Wayne began to describe running water as oily and odorous, and this only got worse over the coming days. The official “Do Not Consume” order wasn’t issued until January 16th, and even then, notice about this order was incredibly vague, with information primarily being spread over Facebook and through word of mouth. After word began to spread, people began responding in the only ways they knew how. The community came together, and for what it was worth, the majority of people adhered to the Do Not Consume order and waited for information from their local officials. It didn’t help that almost immediately after the notice was put into place, a harrowing snowstorm swept through the town. It was an eerie time for the residents, with an emotional atmosphere of discontent and confusion. What happened to make things this intense? When did the water conditions change, and why?
On January 13th, Appalachian Power’s East Lynn substation in Wayne was vandalized. The company stated that “a security fence had been cut, and a valve was found opened on a transformer inside the station, which released mineral oil. The mineral oil (used to cool transformers) spilled onto the ground and reached the creek”. This was no small amount of mineral oil, however. Five thousand gallons flowed into Camp Creek. This reservoir drains directly into Twelvepole Creek, which stretches entirely around the Town of Wayne and is their primary water source. News stations swept in on the scene and got a story out of the event, with many of them including incorrect information, such as saying that Wayne County as a whole was impacted, or that it was localized to East Lynn (due to the substation’s location). Sifting through these varying accounts proved a challenge, but the Town of Wayne was the primary affected area, and which became our primary research site. This kind of confusion about what actually happened and where it happened was a common theme throughout news stories, and is an early reflection of the confusion that was prevalent throughout the community during this time, a reaction that people are still trying to process. After issuing the Do Not Consume order, local officials held a meeting at the town hall, where citizens could speak to their mayor and other representatives, including one from Appalachian Power. However, this meeting was hardly discussed in the media response to the event, mainly because many citizen concerns were left unanswered.
Prior to conducting fieldwork in Wayne, we did some preliminary archival research in the Rare Book Room of West Virginia University’s Wise Library. This research was done with the intention of understanding the history of Wayne County and the social climate we were stepping into. We shifted to targeted research of the microfilm newspaper archives surrounding the town that the library had in collection. Analyzing specific dates found from prior research, we focused particularly on articles that were published around the time of past disasters within Wayne. These articles gave us insight on past community disaster response and mobilization efforts. During this time, we also began basic and background research on crises like what Wayne was currently experiencing, using terms such as oil contamination, water contamination, and fenceline community outcomes. Using many different types of key words and case studies, we developed a literature review as a map for fieldwork and future research, finding common themes amongst toxic disasters and community mobilization and applying this framework to what we had already learned from the Rare Book Room.
The ethnographic fieldwork first started with a first trip down to Wayne over Easter Weekend, 2026. We began with participant observation, as we were there for analysis of the town’s dynamics, and mostly to observe the people within the area. We concluded each night and any conversation with a debrief. Our interviews conducted over this trip were semi-structured, as we didn’t adhere to a strict set of questioning guidelines, but at the same time, we also conducted ourselves formally and led with open-ended questions that would hopefully spark reactions from people we talked to. This was successful. We spoke to Baylee Parsons, a key interlocutor and student journalist working for The Parthenon, Marshall University’s local newspaper, who grew up in Wayne and has family in the area. She described the plight that the community had gone through, and gave us a general timeline of events, which was a change of pace compared to the varying information provided from different news outlets. Additionally, she pointed us in directions to go for the rest of our time in Wayne, which led to our travels the next day. We also spoke to a local employee at Twelvepole Trading Post, who provided us with more information, and helped develop some of the framework for interview questions moving forward when we returned to Wayne for a second visit, finding another key informant in Harry Sowards and physically seeing the oil spill site with our own eyes.
After our trips, we extrapolated common themes from our debriefs and fieldnotes, these specifically including the perception of this event by the larger community and the level of disconnect between civilians and local/federal government. These concepts led our research when we returned to the Rare Book Room a second time, and we began to develop our overlying subthemes for the research, including the disaster timeline and interview portions, while simultaneously extrapolating common experiences from our fieldwork as themes to apply to and answer the research questions.
Wayne County was established on January 18, 1842 after separating from Cabell County. Located along the present day Kentucky border, Wayne County is a large, but quiet area. The name comes from General “Mad” Anthony Wayne. The town was first surveyed in October of 1770, and the Town of Wayne, originally called Trout’s Hill, was named as the county seat in 1842.
The Town of Wayne was no stranger to the growth of the coal mining industry, although they also engaged in the timbering industry and held a supply of natural gases. The county often thrived from all these forces, creating jobs, and the intersection of so many different trades allowed for railroad to provide an economic boom for the area, turning Wayne into a small trading hub.
However, the community in the town has been severely impacted over a number of years due to poor infrastructure and a history of being overlooked. Through close analysis of articles and reports in the Wayne County News over a number of years, a cohesive "disaster timeline" of sorts has been produced, providing a contextual story of how this community has been exposed to vulnerabilities over the years through a number of disastrous events.
While visiting, we made sure to physically map out the area. This included a number of analyses on applications like Google Maps, and additional information from the town residents about local landmarks like the "All-Day Curve", an intense U-turn that stretches around for some time. Because of this diligence in mapping out the community, we were able to produce a representation of the site's location and the impacted creek.
Images by Rebekah Stinnette
According to researchers, toxic disasters are rooted in larger systems of everyday life. They derive from structural, social, and political systems that influence a community's daily life. When considering the context surrounding the origins of a disaster it is important to consider the concept of vulnerability. This refers to how susceptible a community is to toxic harm and is dependent on a number of factors. Primarily, their proximity to industrial infrastructure increases the risk and chance of exposure to toxic harms (Rogers, 2015). Additionally, dependence on the local environment for essential resources increases community vulnerability (Dow 1999). Contamination in these cases would not only disrupt the environment itself, but the daily living of the residents depending on the environment as well.
Following the framework provided by Dow (1999) and Rogers (2015), Wayne appears to have been highly vulnerable to harm before the disaster. The community is in close proximity to the AEP substation in East Lynn which already increases their chance of exposure, but the community itself is also heavily dependent on Twelvepole Creek for both water and agriculture. This dependency stems largely from the isolated and rural nature of Wayne, which provides very few alternatives for basic resources such as water.
These pre-existing vulnerabilities amplified the impact of the disaster itself, many residents finding themselves without water for approximately three weeks. This forced the community to travel elsewhere to try and obtain basic needs, directly showing how the contamination disrupted the daily lives of the residents as well as the environment.
Furthermore, Auyero and Switsun (2008) explain how environmental hazards can exist in a community long before the disaster itself. Due to this, communities can often live unaware of the harms developing around them until they culminate into a disaster. This can be applied directly to Wayne, where the community did not see the effects of the spill until two days after the disaster itself, with the official announcement not released until four days later. This reflects not only a gap in communication, which will be explored later, but also how disasters can be shaping the environment long before they are visibly recognized.
The observations we made on our visit to the substation site itself further this idea. The substation sat isolated from the town of Wayne, both geographically and visibly. This was a major factor in the delayed recognition of the disaster itself, as the nature of the site prevented the initial warning signs from being visible to the public. Furthermore, the site showed evidence of long-standing contamination, the oil sheen still present in the water months after the initial event. Additionally, the poor condition of the environment surrounding the site suggests that contamination may have been present long before the initial disaster itself. This reflects Auyero and Switsun's (2008) findings in Flammable (Argentina), where the hazards developed over time, not being recognized by the public until it was defined as a disaster.
Together, these frameworks show that Wayne’s vulnerability was rooted in both their environmental dependence and their isolation from the site itself. This disaster was not just a singular extraordinary event, but instead a long process of increased exposure and risk shaped by the community's structural position.
Part of a power pole that was left abandoned in a forest next to the substation site, and a direct danger to any visitors.
A dilapidated bridge that runs directly over Twelvepole Creek.
Photo by Hayden Hart
Community trust and disconnect was a major factor within both our research and our literature review. A key concept explored by Little (2009) and Auyero and Switsun (2008) is toxic uncertainty, or the confusion surrounding the information of a disaster itself. Communities often want answers immediately, though science and research takes time, which in turn forms a gap in the information. This gap stems from what is known by the company and what is being conveyed to the public and can be amplified through delays or challenges in the spread of the information. In this time of confusion, communities may start to create their own answers that often take the form of rumors and speculation (Auyero & Switsun, 2008).
This idea is evidenced in Wayne as there was a large disconnect between the community and the people providing the information. The official statement by AEP was not made available to the public until several days after the contamination became visible to the residents. This period created a large sense of confusion as many residents did not know what was happening and no clear answers were being given. As suggested by Auyero and Switsun (2008) many began to formulate rumors and speculation surrounding the disaster itself, which became prevalent in our early research. While some residents believed the plant was vandalized, an idea that was later confirmed by AEP, others speculated that it was part of an inside job or a cover up. Many individuals we spoke to believed the latter. These beliefs demonstrate how uncertainty was affecting the community, with many people remaining unclear about the nature of the disaster for some time.
An additional factor in the disconnect between community and officials can be seen through how information was disseminated to the public. Both AEP and the local government released their statements predominantly on social media sites. This was a problem as Wayne’s population is predominantly 65+ with many not having access to the internet or Wi-Fi. This created an informational inequality, with many residents staying uninformed for some time, missing updates and community meeting announcements. This further reflected the knowledge gaps explored by Little (2009): the gaps in communication were rooted in structural factors that were unaccounted for by institutional actors.
Together, these findings show that the distrust and speculation in the community derived from the communication methods surrounding the disaster. Delays in information, the knowledge gaps among the residents, and poor communication methods all shaped the distrust we observed through our research of Wayne. This raises further concerns in a broader lens, questioning the validity and effectiveness of institutional response strategies relying on social media, especially in populations with primarily older residents. In the future, it may be important for institutions to look at the demographics of a town to best understand how to distribute information.
Wayne's Pharmacy, with torn off letters on the side
Photo by Hayden Hart
While in Wayne over Easter Weekend, we spoke with Baylee Persons, a Marshall student who wrote a piece about what had happened.
On our first trip to Wayne over Easter Weekend, we met with Baylee at Rocky Tops Pizza at approximately 6 pm, where the conversation quickly jumped into a discussion about what had happened. Baylee said that people “definitely saw it as a crisis”, and that they were happy to talk about it in town. She also stated that there was a kind of confusion about the information being let out, and that a lot of people had no clue what was happening or even “continued to use their water as if nothing had happened”. We brought up our own perceptions of Wayne up to that point, including the large amount of political signs we saw in our brief mapping out of the area, and Baylee responded by saying that people were running for office because of what had happened, and that the poor government response had inspired civilians to want to make a change.
Baylee was also personally connected to the case. She spoke about her parents having to travel up to Marshall University to take a shower in her house, as the ones that the town hall and AEP provided were nothing more than “porta potties with a shower”. Interestingly enough, she also told us that because of how disconnected people were from believing the local officials after such a poor response, a lot of residents actually didn’t think that the site had been vandalized. Instead, she told us that AEP would be held liable if they admitted that their inactive substation broke down, so many people thought they framed it as vandalism instead to avoid liability.
Community misunderstanding and confusion were key themes that arose from our conversation with Baylee, and she talked about this through the perception of what had happened along with the discourse over the actual location of the spill. She described feeling frustrated about the site’s actual location and how news outlets perceived it – they would often say that it was the entirety of Wayne County as a whole that had been affected, or specifically East Lynn because of the substation, but it was actually just the Town of Wayne, something that was misunderstood. This was a recurring theme we found in the discussion as we talked further about the lack of recognition from federal officials, including the governor, who didn’t acknowledge what was happening in Wayne until three weeks after, in a Facebook post of all things. Speaking of the media platform, Baylee said that most information about the crisis was spread through Facebook, or through word of mouth.
Our conversation with her illuminated a lot of things that we didn’t know at all beforehand, including how the people of Wayne perceived the event and how their community responded to it. The way Baylee framed the crisis affected our own perception of what had happened, and helped us further develop our themes of confusion and disconnect.
Community mobilization and resilience was identified as another key theme in our research. Resilience refers not just to a community's ability to “bounce back” after a disaster, but instead refers to its ability to adapt and transform to the new conditions brought on by the disaster (Imperiale & Vanclay, 2016). While our earlier themes frame rural communities as more vulnerable, in the lens of resilience they are often viewed as slightly stronger (Jerolleman, 2020). Due to strong social bonds and living in close proximity to each other, rural communities tend to have a lot stronger social resilience. They not only have faster response times, but also tend to be more open and willing to help as they are able to better understand the needs of the community. Brennan et. al (2005) points out that local residents in disaster communities are typically the first responders to the disaster and are the most capable at prioritizing the community.
This is evident within the case of Wayne, where residents immediately worked alongside disaster response teams to provide basic resources to one another. Local businesses, particularly restaurants, offered their excess water to residents in the early days of the “Do Not Consume” order. While this already shows evidence of strong social ties within the community, this is strengthened by their connections to nearby towns. Many people living outside of Wayne offered their showers and delivered water into the town, offering support to those struggling. This form of relief was not formally organized but instead developed through pre-existing connections and social networks, showing how the community can fill in the gaps left by institutional response.
In addition to providing resources and aid, the community itself was effective at organizing meetings and spreading information regarding the disaster. Community meetings were called often to figure out disaster response plans, with many individuals traveling door to door to share information with those who were having difficulty receiving it. This emphasizes the importance of a community in disaster response as they were able to better understand the demographic of the town and spread information accordingly.
Despite Wayne being structurally vulnerable, it is socially strong. This was evident in our observations during our visits to the town, as attending events such as little league baseball games revealed a large sense of connectedness within the community. Ultimately, Wayne’s response to the disaster reflects Samaraweera’s (2024) framework that challenges the typical stereotype that smaller towns are weaker and more dependent. Instead, Wayne took on a very active role, adapting to the new climate while providing aid to those in need. In conclusion, their connectedness and strong social bonds were able to fill in the gaps left open by their vulnerability, showing that vulnerability and resilience can co-exist within the context of disaster.
Upon returning to Wayne, we were able to speak with Harry Sowards, a citizen who is running for town council.
We reached out to Mr. Sowards on Facebook, as we were trying to contact some of the citizens who had begun running for ofifce as a result of the incident. Harry was incredibly vocal in his posts about helping out the community, which was something that interested us. He wrote specifically about going door to door to 135 homes in a single day and talking with people about their concerns with Wayne, and we saw this as the perfect opportunity to provide something of a voice for the community. Additionally, he also announced his candidacy on January 30th of this year, roughly 2 weeks after the oil spill, so we excitedly messaged him in hopes of a meeting when we returned to Wayne, and lucky for us, he agreed.
We sat down with Mr. Sowards and met him in the same place as Baylee, Rocky Tops Pizza, at ironically almost the same time. Almost immediately after sitting down, he began to speak, quicker than we could provide questions. He told us passionately about what inspired him to run, as he believed that “enough was enough”. In response, we asked what he meant by this and if the water crisis itself had inspired him to run for office, and he said that he felt as if he and other candidates were only running now because the water incident was a platform that he could run on. According to Harry, Wayne has had a history of being overlooked and people’s voices going unheard, and he specifically mentioned a large sinkhole that’s been around for years that still hasn’t been remedied.
Mr. Sowards then told us that some residents hauled water from another source to begin with, so they weren’t affected by the incident and didn’t respond to it. He did tell us that in his experience, roughly 80% of the people believed that Appalachian Power is liable in some regard, 10% are people who are denying it, and the other 10% are people disconnected entirely. Additionally, Mr. Sowards said that he believed AEP was just claiming vandalism for insurance purposes, the same kind of “conspiracy theory” that Baylee had similarly spoken about. He also blatantly said that “Wayne is a poor community, and people around here don’t always pay for things like Internet and water”, so this led into us asking him about the disconnect there and how word was spread about the incident. Harry replied that most notices were through Facebook or word of mouth, so some people weren’t even aware that this was happening at the time.
He then explained to our group the financial difficulties of the community. Harry said that he purchased a new water heater and all new water lines recently, and hadn’t used his water until then. Additionally, he said that he was lucky enough to own a house, while a lot of people rent, and are at the landlord’s disposal, mentioning that these landlords often brush off complaints from tenants now that the Do Not Consume order has been long past lifted.
Time was running short with Mr. Sowards, as he was working on opening a gym right next door, but before leaving, he mentioned that multiple friends of his were affected and hospitalized from the incident, and he specifically mentioned an asthmatic who had an attack and was taken to the emergency room after changing her clothes in the washer with the oily water still present.
Harry had to leave after this, but we gained a lot of valuable information from both of our key interlocutors. They provided a very local perspective of how events had transpired in Wayne, and simultaneously contributed to our themes of confusion and disconnect through personal stories of their own experiences and people they knew who did not have the proper resources or knowledge of how to respond to the disaster.
Numerous political signs in Wayne, one collection of them out of many.
Photo by Hayden Hart
While speaking with Mr. Sowards, he mentioned an incredibly important concept that plays heavily into our research. This term was "surface level accountability", and it can be used to describe Appalachian Power's actions in response to the incident. For example, AEP has now agreed to pay water bills for the months of January and February, although Mr. Sowards reminded us that this is when the water incident was in full swing, and he doesn’t think it meant much to begin with. Harry believes that they also haphazardly gave the community an excess amount of bottled water that is still being used to this day.
The Wayne water crisis is exemplary of an environmental disaster that is never purely environmental. It is embedded in social, political, and structural events that change how communities live, trust government, and understand issues. Through this research, it has become clear that the events in Wayne were not just the result of a single act of vandalism but rather the culmination of historical environmental risks and the government's negligence.
In response to the first research question, this project shows that residents of the town of Wayne mobilized as a community and demonstrated resilience in the aftermath of the disaster. Local businesses and community relationships became essential for distributing resources, sharing and spreading information, and maintaining comfort in the absence of local government support. This helped Wayne avoid being seen as inherently weak, but rather as adaptable and capable of serving as first responders in times of crisis.
The findings reveal an important disconnect between the community and governing institutions. Delays in communication, reliance on social media, and slow inclusion in response efforts contributed to widespread confusion, rumors, and distrust. This disconnect was not merely a failure of how the information was being delivered, but a structural issue rooted in how institutions assess, communicate, and perceive environmental risk. As a result, residents were left uncertain and often left in the unknown, relying on rumors or personal interpretations to make sense of the situation.
An important point of discussion is how the disaster was perceived within the community of Wayne. The perception of risk in Wayne was not the same for everyone and it varied across individuals based on access to information, their personal experience, and trust in institutions. For some, the crisis was immediate and severe, disrupting daily life and causing tangible harm. While others, particularly those less directly impacted or less informed, minimized or misunderstood the event. These different perceptions show the importance of examining disaster not just through its harmful impact, but also through the lived experience of people and the community.
This study contributes to a better understanding of environmental disasters by exploring Wayne's vulnerability and resilience. Wayne’s experience shows that vulnerability does not prevent strength but rather creates strong social bonds and collective action for a better cause. Community resilience alone is not a sustainable solution. Without meaningful institutional accountability, transparent communication, and infrastructure improvements, communities like Wayne will continue to bear unequal burdens during environmental disasters.
This research also raises important claims for the future of policies and disaster response time in Wayne. Institutions must move past just surface-level responses and adopt new techniques that focus on families in the communities they serve. This includes improving communication methods, incorporating locals into decision-making, and addressing pre-existing problems before they escalate into crises. Greater attention must be paid to rural communities, whose disasters are often overlooked despite being at the forefront of environmental risk.
The Wayne Water Crisis is not an isolated event but an example of an environmental disaster that reveals how environmental harm is produced and managed. By focusing on the voices and experiences of the community, this project not only addresses the research questions but also explains the need for a more responsive and community-centered approach to environmental governance. The story of the Town of Wayne is ultimately one of resilience and a reminder that while disasters may destroy trust and stability, they also reveal the strength of communities determined to adapt, respond, and have their stories heard.
On January 11, 2026, residents of Wayne County reported that water within their homes smelled of fuel. Beginning on January 13, 2026, the Wayne County Sheriff’s Office found signs of vandalism at the East Lynn substation, owned by Appalachian Power and Electric. Officials found damaged fences, broken wires, and traces of copper wire being removed from the scene, indicating vandalism. Because of the tampered substation, the vandalism resulted in the failure of the transformer, leaking approximately four thousand, nine hundred gallons of non-PCB (polychlorinated biphenyls) actively leaking into Camp Creek. The oil then began to leak downstream into Twelvepole Creek, which serves as the main water source through the Town of Wayne and Wayne County. The residents rely on Twelvepole Creek as their primary source of water, which feeds into the water system supplying the town. Once this was discovered, on January 16, 2026, Mayor Danny Grace initiated a “Do Not Consume” order. The order forced residents to use bottled water for all daily use, marking the beginning of an environmental crisis for the small town.
This review looks into common issues such as government trust and community vulnerabilities, and begs the question of how a small, rural town like Wayne responds to an environmental disaster.
Origins of Disaster and Toxic Events
Researchers argue that toxic disasters are not just extraordinary incidents but instead are rooted in larger systems of everyday life. Rogers (2015) explains how oil industries rely on expansive infrastructure, including things such as pipelines for transport or storage facilities to maintain their products. This widespread infrastructure increases the possibilities of disaster exposure to not just the environment itself, but to the communities as well. However, the scope of this exposure is not consistent, instead widely dependent on the size of the industry infrastructure and the structure of a community itself. Dow (1999) expands on this claim, arguing that communities near the industry face a much greater risk, especially those that depend heavily on their local environment. She explains that in the event of a disaster these eco-dependent communities may not only suffer from the immediate harms of the disaster but also disruptions to their daily living as well. Rogers (2015) adds to this point by explaining how some toxic disasters can directly contaminate a community's water or food. Communities that rely on this water and food, without many outside sources, are argued by both authors to become more vulnerable in the aftermath of disaster due to the long term effects on their daily living. This places an emphasis on the importance of a communities structure prior to a disaster, not only providing good insight into how vulnerability forms but also providing information that can aid future prevention efforts.
One challenge to prevention efforts comes directly from the information available surrounding toxic events. As argued by Auyero and Switsun (2008), environmental hazards can often exist in a community long before the disaster event itself. This is due to the lack of information surrounding hazardous materials and environmental pollutants that cause communities to live unaware of the dangers around them, in turn allowing these hazards to develop over time. It is not until the environmental hazards surpass a regulatory threshold that they are labeled a disaster, after which communities and institutions begin to react in response to the hazard. Button and Elridge (2016) provide a practical example of this in their case study of the Elk River Chemical spill. In this case a chemical leakage into the Elk River contaminated the water supply but was not initially treated as a disaster due to government actors not classifying it one. Despite community concerns, the chemical leak did not surpass the regulatory threshold. This caused the state actors to not recognize the leak as a disaster until much later when the contamination was already too widespread. Little (2009) adds to this, explaining how differing interpretations of environmental disaster can lead to confusion within disaster response. Scientists, community members, and government officials rely on their own perspectives and knowledge to interpret disaster events, which can often lead to disagreements on what defines a disaster. For example, scientists tend to rely on empirical evidence while local communities rely on the physical impacts they can see. These differing definitions create a sense of confusion which can overshadow the disaster's true harm. These researchers' perspectives come together to show that environmental disasters often do not just appear randomly in the form of an extraordinary event but instead develop in the background through hazardous conditions that contaminate without notice.
While within the structure of environmental governance, technological disasters often reflect the inequalities that affect a community's overall health. In (Mohai's, 2018) analysis of the Flint water crisis, the author argues that cost-saving measures and industrial-sector interests over community health led to environmental disasters. Through delayed actions, procedural justice, and distributive injustice, it explains how flawed the Flint water crisis was. In the Flint crisis, the residents' complaints about contaminated water were ignored, allowing the disaster to escalate into a worse crisis before justified interventions took place. This attempt to dismiss the community knowledge and ignore early warning signs illustrates how environmental disasters can escalate into a community health crisis. As discussed by (Little 2009) and (Button & Edridge 2016), similar events have occurred in other technological disasters, in which policies by industrial systems ignored official scientific recognition of contamination. These studies show how the level of trust in a community can be altered by institutional decision-making, depending on how the institution assesses the severity of the environmental disaster relative to its own interests.
In addition to decision-making failures, systemic shortcomings in disaster management systems contribute to the escalation of environmental disasters by delaying response efforts. (Zimmerman 1985) argues that industrial accidents and environmental contamination were not accounted for in the United States' emergency management system, which was designed to address natural disasters. This causes technological disasters to be subject to complex regulations across multiple agencies before a course of action is determined. Under environmental laws like the Clean Water Act and the Safe Drinking Water Act, multiple jurisdictions overlap in investigating the toxic event, which slows response time and complicates decision-making as the disaster continues to unfold. This analysis of (Zimmerman 1985), shows that communities affected by the environmental disaster perceive the government response as ineffective or slow, which can increase public distrust and confusion.
Community Trust and Disconnect
When environmental concerns or disasters occur, residents and those immediately affected often turn to government and authoritative response, hoping for immediate action and immediate answers (Little 2009). However, within the science and environmental aspect of response, science relies on uncertainties and requires processes, investigations and more before there is any sign of a determining answer (Little 2009). Because there is often no way for a definite answer to be produced immediately, this causes confusion. It is also argued who will produce even a statement or an answer, or even take accountability for the issue. Because of the gap within science and technology, processes and investigation and people wanting immediate answers, there is a large disconnect within the negotiations of what is there to be known, but what is to be said.
During the gap between immediate answers and a thorough and honest response, many residents and those affected may turn to speculations and rumors (Auyero & Switsun 2008). When the community is talking and not hearing anything from any type of authority or officials, rumors may raise levels of unworthiness and loss of trust (Auyero Switsun & 2008). When confronting an environmental disaster to a large degree, communication and transparency is often the solution to understanding the effects currently in the present, but also bringing up questions on how to confront the issue on a long term level. Furthermore, the gap in communication between officials and the community may also cause a divide between those in the community, as some may be more involved with assumptions, while others may believe in a different theory. When there are gaps in the power dynamics between communities and government, especially if there are no true answers, it further complicates everyday dynamics (Little 2009).
In recent years, research on disasters shows that contamination events produce not only physical harm but also shake social relations and institutional trust. Erickson (1991) describes this phenomenon as collective trauma caused by a technological disaster, in which the disaster is caused by human error or negligence that damages the social bonds that hold communities together and reshape residents' understanding of risk and authority. Disasters that are tied to industrial infrastructure or corporate negligence often cause anger and distrust within the community towards the responsible institutions. This phenomenon highlights why residents are outraged by official decisions or become worried about institutions' responses to a contaminated disaster. This phenomenon connects with the arguments made by (Little 2009) and (Auyero & Swistun 2008), which emphasize that delays and uncertainty in scientific communication create a place for skepticism and rumors. These studies collectively show that distrust often stems from social and institutional factors during environmental disasters rather than from poor communication or misinformation, affecting how residents interpret risk and who is held responsible.
When contamination occurs, especially affecting everyday life, such as through suitable drinking water, fresh food, a response is needed immediately, especially when it is affecting simple everyday functions (Farrokhi et al. 2015). These actions disrupt the way the culture is functioning, but also there needs to be a plan in place. Though with rural communities or fenceline communities, communication and research is often overlooked, to the point where there is an environmental disaster, there is almost a stalemate on responses and communication (Cushing & Johnston 2020). Not only does this gap include a disconnect in communities and direct disaster responses, this also brings challenges of how the stability of the community may be. Fenceline communities are of higher risk, primarily because of the proximity to the direct disaster (Cushing & Johnston 2020). When disasters occur directly in these fenceline communities, it brings up a large theme, that while the danger is close or even directly in the community, the people and the community often rely on the resources that could directly cause them harm (Cushing & Johnston 2020).
It is important to study the gaps within environmental disaster, such as through how the media or other communities may perceive another community, gaps in communication with government officials and resources, but also gaps between the people affected and in the disruption of life within the risk or affected communities. Learning about the social interactions, through ethnographic methods often points to the inconsistencies and gaps that may not be as heavily emphasized will allow for better understanding of how to respond, treat, but also investigate how communities and people are affected. Risk management is often a prominent theme within environmental disaster response, and by taking into account all aspects (socially, culturally, and physically), researchers and scientists can learn how to take preventative measures in all aspects to overall achieve the goal of managing future risk and future disasters.
Community Mobilization and Resilience
When natural disasters occur, they show a clear need for local volunteers to be ready to act as the first line of response, as they are, in many cases, the first responders and have the greatest chance to save lives and provide support in the hours and days immediately after disaster occurrences (Brennan et al. 2005). This is something that challenges vulnerability, which is often amplified by poor infrastructure, leading to a delay in response times and overall knowledge of the situation (Cushing & Johnston 2020). Due to the intense circumstances of an ongoing disaster, risk is engaging among citizens, and social vulnerabilities are interfering with the community. The only thing that is certain in these times is that local residents will be the first people capable of responding (Brennan, et. al, 2005). Even before the disaster, communities are deeply exposed to these vulnerabilities and environmental hazards. These groups tend to live their lives unaware of the dangers around them, allowing these hazards to develop over time, and provide a slow, intimate escalation of risk throughout the community (Auyero 2008).
Local residents and groups are in a position to best identify their immediate needs, coordinate preparations, supplement official response efforts, and contribute to decision making, which all contribute to the overall response and minimization of vulnerabilities (Brennan et. al 2005). In smaller, more rural groups, community connectedness provides personal recovery, often involving local people or families, and assists people in anticipating, responding, resisting, and recovering from disasters (Jerolleman 2020). In disaster events, communities can be seen mobilizing as a force and moving to the front lines, being “first responders” as many sources coin them. Their strength in these situation lies in local knowledge, along with anticipation of the disaster itself and response to it. This kind of resistance is often known as community resilience, primarily because of groups fighting back against the vulnerabilities impacting their homes, and attempting to mitigate the risk factor where other structures, like infrastructure, fail more often than not. Community resilience can be properly defined as the activation of socially motivated processes by local people who are committed to working together to prevail against adversity to keep their community alive and well (Imperiale & Vanclay 2016).
This concept helps redefine how a vulnerable community is perceived, and changes the residents from victims to actors of their own regard, responding to disaster on the front lines. As Samaraweera writes, “Community resilience exists along vulnerability... we must challenge the framing of these communities as weak or passive” (Samaraweera 2024). The framing of communities is fundamental to their support, both within and from state and local governments. Additionally, community resilience is not just about bouncing back to the previous state, but about a community learning and organizing to transform their social and political reality (Imperiale & Vanclay 2016). This concept of communities breaking the image of victims paints them in a different light, and gives them an opportunity to be agents of their own change. While negative labels can be placed on lower-income and rural groups, or fenceline communities that are heavily exposed to risk, the response can challenge this and attempt to resist the impact of structural violence within. Communities should be seen this way, emphasizing the importance of kinship in disaster recovery and local knowledge, and leading to applications for mobilizing community volunteers (Brennan et al. 2005). This concept works best when applied in the aforementioned environments of poverty and fenceline communities; local residents and groups are in a position to best identify their immediate needs in these places, and contribute to local decision making (Brennan et al. 2005).
Summary
This review has taken into account a variety of sources that interact with one another to create a cohesive overview of disaster and how it impacts a community on multiple levels. There is a certain distrust for state infrastructure that arises from these events, often because of poor responses and a lack of information about the incident. This, in turn, causes an often angered or confused reaction from the impacted community, which is forced to mobilize and resist risk and vulnerabilities themselves.
Additionally, the research provides a discussion on disaster, and how a community can be deeply impacted through contamination of their natural resources like food and water, on top of influencing social decisions and trust in state infrastructure. There is a certain collective trauma within a community that is often generated from disaster, and this is what propels the discussion of mobilization and resilience further, as it cultivates social bonds between families and individuals.
The review, as intended, synthesizes something of a framework to understand the Wayne Water Crisis with a metaphorical lens to observe it through during fieldwork and written ethnographies. The identified common themes of Disaster (and its origins), Community Mobilization and Resilience, and Community Trust and Disconnect can all fundamentally assist in understanding what the people of Wayne County are experiencing, or at least provide a frame to fall back on.
Auyero, Javier, and Débora Swistun. 2008. “The Social Production of Toxic Uncertainty.” American Sociological Review 73 (3): 357-379.
Brennan, M.A., Rosemary V Barnett., and Courtney G. Flint. 2005. “Community Volunteers: The Front Line of Disaster Response.” Journal of Volunteer Administration 23 (4): 52-56.
Dow, Kristin. 1999. “The Extraordinary and the Everyday in Explanations of Vulnerability to an Oil Spill.” Geographical Review 89 (1): 74.
Imperiale, Angelo Jonas, and Frank Vanclay. 2016. “Experiencing Local Community Resilience in Action: Learning from Post-Disaster Communities.” Journal of Rural Studies 47: 204-219.
Jerolleman, Alessandra. 2020. “Challenges of Post-Disaster Recovery in Rural Areas.” In Louisiana’s response to Extreme Weather: A Coastal State’s Adaptation Challenges and Successes, edited by Shirley Laska, 285-311. Cham, Switzerland: Springer Open.
Little, Peter C. 2009 “Negotiating Community Engagement and Science in the Federal Environmental Public Health Sector.” Medical Anthropology Quarterly 23 (2): 94–118.
Rogers, Douglas. 2015. “Oil and Anthropology.” Annual Review of Anthropology 44 (1): 365–80.
Samaraweera, H. U. S. 2024. “Exploring complexities of disaster risk and vulnerability: Everyday lives of two flood-affected communities in Sri Lanka”. Sustainable Development 32 (2): 1376–1385.