Sunday, November 20, 2016

In These Times, Flint Residents Lean on the Everlasting Arms


By Peter Rubinstein
FLINT, Michigan—Members of Flint’s Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church entered its modest nave on the morning of Sunday, March 6, to the sight of delicately hung chandeliers strung above the white-gloved hands and warm eyes of its senior ushers as they lent hugs, laughed and welcomed newcomers.
Pastor Daniel Moore Sr. wore black and silver vestments while seated comfortably in the pulpit, quietly observing the familiar congregation of his family, friends and neighbors and swaying his right hand to the gentle words that emanated from the choir behind him.
The pain and strife brought upon by the water crisis that had defined the lives and identities of the city’s residents since 2014 were temporarily set aside, as the members of Shiloh squeezed close together to unite under the pastor’s word.

“When the community does not trust the culture or
government, the church becomes a center.”
-Professor Michael Wittmer, Grand Rapids Theological Seminary

Waiting for Justice: Meanwhile, 'Fix What You Broke'


By Rachel Popa
Pamela Powell, her son Devontae Powell and brother Darrell
Spann stand with her father Otis Span whose Alzheimer's the 
family says has worsened because of the poisoned water.
   FLINT, Mich.—Flint. Vehicle City. Once a bustling city of over 200,000 people, now less than 100,000 remain. In the past, Flint, Michigan was a symbol of American prosperity. Today Flint is synonymous with neglect and decline.
In 2014, after the city of Flint started receiving its drinking water from the Flint River rather than pumping it in from Detroit in an effort to save costs, residents started reporting discoloration in their drinking water, among other problems. Flint’s water was eventually rendered undrinkable due to the high amount of lead present in the city’s supply. And still without a new water system, many here still don't trust their drinking water.
Hundreds of families have been affected by the poisonous water, including the Spann family, which has lived in Flint for over 60 years.
“I’m not going to give up.
I’m going to do what I have to do.”
-Otis Spann


Voices of The Poisoned

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Faces of the Poisoned – Videos

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Charges filed in Flint water crisis

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

NBC News Chicago: "Inspiring a New Generation of Journalists"

Heartache & Hope: A Woman's Tears

The hands of a woman in Flint show a skin rash that she believes is the result of washing them in toxic drinking water. Rashes like these are not uncommon for people here, including children and infants,since the water crisis began in 2014.

By Alyson Jurgovan
        FLINT, Michigan—Three women shed tears. They are mothers, they are daughters, they are wives. And they are all living in a national crisis. A highly corrosive river flows through the town of Flint, Michigan. This is where their drinking water comes from. They tell tales of heartbroken homes, of children in pain and of dreams diminished. Only these tales aren’t fables. They are real and they are told through a woman’s tears.
In April 2014, Flint, Michigan, began using a poisoned water source. Their government knowingly switched from Detroit’s Water and Sewage Department, which gets its water from Lake Huron, to the Flint River, to cut costs. Untreated and highly corrosive, the water caused the city’s lead pipes to leach, making the drinking water contain high levels of lead. In effect, Flint residents have experienced a deteriorating community with significant reported health illnesses, effects and defects.
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"The water crisis has really brought a sense of fear. I’m always wondering if there’s enough water for my family members…"
—Pamela Powell

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Holding Fast to Faith While Some Flee Flint: 'Im Not Going Away'

Mary Stewart, 69, said she loves her city and her church and places her faith and turst in God. "I'm not going anywhere until they take me out on a stretcher."
By Elisabet Bernard
            Mary Stewart sat in the lobby of the Shiloh Apartments complex in Flint, Michigan, 69, and full of smiles. “Been here for about 15 years—something like 13, 14, 15 years, and I’ll be 70, July 31,” she said.
            Today, Stewart is one of the faces of the poisoned. Among the victims of lead poisoning in Flint, where a publicly acknowledged manmade human tragedy has exposed the city’s population of almost 100,000 to hazardous drinking water.
            By the time Stewart told her story on a snowy day this spring, the national media had long descended on the former automotive city. And for a time, there wasn’t a day that went by that Flint wasn’t in the news.
But while the media highlighted important facts about the failure of the state and local governments to prevent this tragedy, there are other stories here, more human stories.  Stories beyond the numbers and failed government. Stories about the illness and disease that have afflicted people here since the suspicions about the water were confirmed. Stories about those who believe that their sufferings today may be directly related to their ingesting of poison water over the last two years. Stories of resilience and faith. Stories like Stewart’s.
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“It’s not easy, it’s just a lot, a lot of trouble. You try to trust in God and hope that some of the things will pass by.” —Mary Stewart
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