Louisiana town fights for relief after a billion-dollar oil disaster

It's been four months since an oil facility in Louisiana exploded, spewing thick black sludge that sprayed up to 50 miles into homes, farms and waterways.

Since then, the U.S. Department of Justice and Louisiana environmental authorities have filed a sweeping motion. lawsuit against Smitty's Supply, a company that operated a warehouse of oils and automotive lubricants. But residents of the majority-Black city are skeptical they will benefit from the $1 billion federal lawsuit.

According to Van Showers, the mayor of Roseland, Louisiana, much of this belief stems from the fact that despite repeated calls for help, black slime still clings to the walls, roofs and soil of more than half the city's properties.

“People want to know when they're going to get help, and there's nothing to make them think this process will lead to that,” said Showers, who works at a local chicken processing plant and is struggling financially during the cleanup process.

This skepticism is rooted in difficult experiences, as well as a broader history of environmental racism that has left Black communities disproportionately burdened. That disconnect has left residents in a state of prolonged uncertainty about their water, their health and whether the lawsuit unfolding in distant courtrooms will ever reach their homes. This is a familiar picture especially in Louisianawhere environmental disasters constantly strike Black and low-income communities the hardest thing is to leave them last in line for restoration.

Initially, residents of the city, where the average person earns just $17,000 a year, were told to clean up the mess themselves.

As a result of the explosion, dozens of people appeared in a village with a population of 1,100 residents. chemicalsincluding cancer-causing ones known as PFASor “forever chemicals.” One resident living on a fixed income told Capital B that in the weeks after the event, she owed more than $1,000 on her credit card to replace stained panels on her trailer.

However, in October, after constant pressure from residents, the situation seemed to change. Federal and state agencies increased their presence in the disaster area, surveyed the public, filed a lawsuit and began testing wildlife, including fish and deer, for contamination.

But even as the government's response increases, advocates, residents and local officials warn it is not enough. Compensation from the lawsuit, if it is ever paid, likely won't reach residents, according to Showers and local lawyers. Civil fines collected in federal lawsuits are typically deposited into the U.S. Treasury's general fund and are often used solely to fund environmental cleanup costs rather than to support residents.

“As far as the lawsuit goes, I don’t think it’s going to be a benefit to the public,” Showers said.

The government's lawsuit alleges that Smitty knowingly violated safety regulations and pollution permits for years. The company failed to implement basic spill prevention and emergency response plans, regulators said.

The complaint says millions of gallons of contaminated water, oil and firefighting chemicals leaked off-site into ditches and seeks more than $1 billion in fines and penalties related to the explosion and spill.

In response to the lawsuit, a Smitty's spokesperson wrote: “Smitty's has been and remains committed to complying with all applicable laws and regulations and acting as a responsible member of the Tangipahoa Parish community.”

The disaster was “the result of an unexpected industrial fire,” the spokesman added, and the company is “implementing measures to help prevent future incidents and protect our waterways and neighbors.”

However, even after the lawsuit was filed, according to government documentsSmitty's was caught pumping unauthorized “oily liquids” into local waterways.

Meanwhile, a recent study by the Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality report shows a government contractor recovered at least 74 live wildlife from the disaster area, and 59 of them either digested the oily substance or were covered in it. At least eight animals were found dead, including four turtles and an alligator.

Dozens more pets and livestock, including cattle and horses, were covered in debris. Many residents, including Showers, saw their animals die. These findings, combined with reports stillborn calveshighlight how deeply pollution has permeated everyday life, residents say.

Not only did the explosion create a long-term environmental and health hazard (one that Showers fears “could lie dormant for years and then all of a sudden… a lot of people get cancer”) but it also indefinitely closed Roseland's largest employer, Smitty's Supply.

In the weeks following the explosion, Millie Simmons, a 58-year-old child care worker, struggled to stay outside in Roseland for more than 10 minutes without irritating her respiratory tract. Even while at home, she felt “exhausted” and “lethargic” for weeks.

Showers said she's not alone. The biggest complaints he still receives are that “people are still sick” and “want to know when they will get help cleaning up their property.”

“We definitely deserve something,” Simmons said.

Ecological gap of the nation

In October the federal government delegated the cleanup process is entirely owned by the government and Smitty. Some residents say they saw Smitty's contractors remove several properties, but others, including the mayor, say their complaints have gone unanswered. Showers said the company reimbursed him for just one night at a hotel when he was forced to leave town after the explosion, and never responded to his request for compensation after a litter of his dogs became ill and died in the ensuing weeks.

Advocates for the Louisiana Environmental Action Network (LEAN), which notified Smitty's and federal and state environmental regulators of their intention to sue, said residents continue to contact them about contaminated crops and wells. They are not sure if their water is safe, even after months.

“There are so many unanswered questions that are causing great concern for the community,” said Marilee Orr, executive director of LEAN. “People don't feel safe in their homes.”

Orr said she is particularly concerned that what is happening now in the courtroom will repeat familiar patterns from other environmental disasters.

In places like Big Wood in southern Louisiana and Flint, MichiganShe noted that residents have waited years for historic settlements to turn into actual checks that could be cashed, only to see much of the money gobbled up in legal fees. Flint residents have waited more than a decade for compensation for the nation's most notorious water crisis, which has caused a range of neurological and developmental problems in children. When all is said and done, only a fraction of affected residents will receive checks for about $1,000.

In Roseland, Showers found himself in an information vacuum. To know the full extent of infection in his city, he relies more on outside news than on official briefings. In fact, he was unaware of the government report showing harm to native animals until Capital B shared it with him.

“No one from the government ever told me anything,” he said. “It's annoying.”

The lack of transparency, he added, makes it harder to answer the basic questions residents ask him at the grocery store, at church and outside City Hall: “Is my water safe? What's going on with the animals? Am I okay?”

These dynamics reflect both long-standing political dynamics in Louisiana and growing uncertainty under the Trump administration.

His position as a black Democrat leading a majority black city in a state dominated by white conservative leaders has only exacerbated that isolation, he told Capital B in September.

Historically black communities have received less recovery assistance than white territories with comparable damage during environmental disasters. Experts now warn that federal support for environmental disasters in Black and Democratic areas could weaken further under the Trump administration, which has cut EPA and Justice Department enforcement to historic lows.

In the first 11 months of Trump's second term, the Environmental Protection Agency and the Justice Department filed just 20 executive actions against polluters, imposing $15.1 million in fines. During the final 19 days of the Biden administration last January, the Environmental Protection Agency and Justice Department issued $590 million in fines.

The current administration has also directed EPA officials not to consider whether affected communities are “minority or low-income groups” when determining enforcement priorities.

Showers estimates that fewer than three-quarters of the properties have been cleaned up, and that many residents who dutifully called the grievance hotline are still living with dirty roofs, dirty yards and lingering health problems.

“There’s just not enough information being released or enough work being done for people to be comfortable with what’s going on.”

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