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Imperial Beach can't afford seawalls, so it's trying to hold fossil fuel companies accountable for climate change as sea level rises and saltwater creeps in.
By David Hasemyer, JUN 27, 2018
By David Hasemyer, JUN 27, 2018
This story was also published by KQED Science.
IMPERIAL BEACH, California—Among Serge Dedina's first stops on a brisk morning tour of this small seaside city is a wall that separates a row of frayed apartments from wetlands known as the San Diego Bay Wildlife Refuge. Artists are dabbing finishing touches on a mural of sea birds against a flamingo-pink wall.
This splash of color is important to Dedina. It's something he can do—his city's leadership can do—to cheat the austerity that comes with having one of the smallest city budgets in the state. Dedina, 53, is the mayor of this oceanfront community at the southern edge of California, separated from Mexico by the estuary of the Tijuana River.
Water marks three borders around Imperial Beach. And what prosperity there is in Imperial Beach comes from the ocean and its surf. The city logo is a classic Woody station wagon with a surfboard poking out of the back. People come here for the beach and the estuary.
But with the climate crisis, the same water has become the single greatest threat to Imperial Beach's future.
Imperial Beach is bordered on three sides by water: the Pacific Ocean, San Diego Bay, and the Tijuana River Estuary. Credit: Photo courtesy of the City of Imperial Beach
So last year, facing a problem it sees as too expensive to bear, the city filed a lawsuit seeking compensation from major oil, gas and coal companies. It accuses them of knowingly contributing to sea-level rise and coastal flooding by producing fossil fuels and ignoring warnings about the consequences.
For Dedina, the math was simple. There's no way Imperial Beach, with its slim city budget of $19 million, can pay for all the damage to roads and city property that experts say is coming—and mounting research pinpoints burning of fossil fuels as a key driver of that sea level rise.
A 2016 study noted that beach erosion here has been accelerating—today the pace is just over a foot a year—and is expected to reach 6 feet per year by 2100. Nor can the city afford remedies like sea walls, which one study said would cost at least $50 million.
"I've been watching the coast and ocean since I was a kid," said Dedina, a surfer and veteran of local environmental fights over the last four decades. "It became clear there was a different feel to what I was seeing, that there was a different scale to the ocean."
"Something bad was going to happen," he said, "we had to try to stop it."
There's another statistic that makes climate change a public safety issue here: There are dozens of sites in and around Imperial Beach where handling of hazardous material is permitted. A recent study on sea level rise shows that some of these locations, including military sites that handle hazardous material and underground storage tanks, are vulnerable to flooding.
"We are literally learning every day what will need to be done to address these issues," said Andy Hall, Imperial Beach's city manager.
The Imperial Beach lawsuit sweeps up 37 companies, including ExxonMobil, Chevron, BP, Royal Dutch Shell, ConocoPhillips and Peabody Energy. Since Imperial Beach and the counties of Marin and San Mateo chose a courtroom showdown, five other cities and counties in California have also sued. Around the country, others have done the same, including New York City and municipalities in Colorado and Washington State. Some of the suits expand the harms of climate change beyond sea level rise to include wildfires, drought and pestilence.
"It became clear there was a different feel to what I was seeing, that there was a different scale to the ocean," Imperial Beach Mayor Serge Dendina said. Credit: David Hasemyer/ICN
"These communities are facing massive costs that will have to be paid either by their taxpayers or by the oil, gas and coal companies who caused them," said San Francisco lawyer Matt Edling, who represents Imperial Beach and five other California cities and counties.
The companies, which did not respond to interview requests, are fighting back hard, both in court and in a campaign of public messaging, calling the suits frivolous and misguided. They won dismissals this week of similar lawsuits filed by the cities of San Francisco and Oakland after getting the cases moved to federal court. But Imperial Beach's case is still in state court, where the law is friendlier to municipal plaintiffs.
The lawsuits could take years to wend through the courts. The outcome is unpredictable: Billions of dollars could be awarded, or fossil fuel could be given a pass.
The Ugly Future
During his tour of the city, Dedina stopped on Descanso Street to highlight the ugly face of sea level rise that's likely to swamp this 4.5-square-mile community of 27,000 people. A third of the city faces ruin by flooding, he says. These days, when the tide is high and the ocean is roiling, Descanso and other streets become funnels, sending ocean water into the city.
But in the same conversation about dire consequences, Dedina pauses to describe a resilient little city accustomed to struggle.
At high tide when the ocean is rolling, Descanso Street can funnel saltwater into the city. Credit: Courtesy of City of Imperial Beach
Not long ago, Imperial Beach was disputed turf for Hell's Angels and Mongols motorcycle gangsters who often tangled. It was seen as an outlaw city whose best attributes were cheap apartments and reliable surf action.
The city remains a little rough around the edges; more Atlantic City grit than Cape Cod posh. This is a working-class town, nothing like La Jolla, the upscale and better-known beach community some 20 miles north. Demographics show 13 percent of the Imperial Beach population lives in poverty, even as the average price for a home has jumped to $650,000. Middle-class families are finding a place that is changing, softening a bit as a bedroom community for the bustling San Diego metropolitan area, 14 miles north on Interstate 5.
Imperial Beach boasts 323 days of mostly or partly sunny days a year. Its beach is the city's gemstone. Non-stop volleyball and surfing present the quintessential picture of Southern California life.
Dedina, however, has seen warning signs that the city's idyllic life is in peril, especially when the ocean is whipped by El Niño—a complex meteorological event in which the Pacific Ocean becomes significantly warmer than usual and triggers severe weather patterns across the globe. The increased volume of water from ocean warming becomes an even larger force when churned by El Niño.
Nicole Ballard, with her son Sean, has seen her family’s condo flooded by the ocean several times. Credit: David Hasemyer/ICN
Dedina recalls the winter of 2015, when heavy rain led to extensive damage. Those storms were among the strongest El Niño-related events on record. Ocean water breached the riprap of boulders and poured into garages and buildings. San Diego Bay slopped over the city's northern limits. Bayside Elementary school grounds became a soggy mess. The surge pushed back into storms drains and flowed into inland neighborhoods.
"We saw some of the worst coastal flooding that we'd ever seen," Dedina said. "In fact, in our bayfront we had the worst flooding ever."
'Hard Choices Will Have to Be Made'
Imperial Beach's future is laid out in a 2016 study commissioned by the city. It shows sea level has already risen significantly along the city's ocean side and bay side and appears certain to continue. Destructive flooding is expected to become routine by the year 2100, even if emissions stopped tomorrow. As many as 700 homes and commercial buildings could be lost to coastal flooding with a sea level rise of 6.5 feet.
The Tijuana River Estuary to the south could also merge with San Diego Bay, submerging the heart of the city's residential section. An estimated 30 miles worth of city roads, about 40 percent of Imperial Beach black top, could become impassable. More than 15 miles of sewer lines could fail.
For Robert Newton and Judy Creveling, both in their 60s, that section of town was their dream destination. They built a two-story home on Connecticut Street nine years ago with the intention of living out their lives there. The city's sea-level rise study shows their house sits in a flood zone. Although the worst-case scenario is still decades off, even now stormwater collects on their street more than it used to.
The couple lives on a fixed income of Social Security; they make a bit extra selling customized motor-driven bicycles. They can't afford to move from their home, and they can't afford to fortify it against potential flooding.
"What happens if it keeps getting worse?" Creveling said. "It takes away that peace of mind, thinking that we have a home for the rest of our lives."
Connecticut Street, where Robert Newton and Judy Creveling built their home nine years ago, sits in a flood plain. They can't afford to fortify the house against flooding or move. Credit: David Hasemyer/ICN
David Revell, chief scientist at Revell Coastal, which conducted the Imperial Beach study,said the city cannot win the battle against the rising ocean. It can moderate the harm with tactical planning that includes accepting some loss.
"Hard choices will have to be made," he said. "Some things will have to be sacrificed to sea."
The city's budget now goes to fixing streets, trash pick up, the police and maintaining sidewalks. Spending money to protect infrastructure means there would be little left for "luxuries," such as a new community pool, a playground or upgrades to the senior center. Contrast this with San Diego, which has set aside $83 million this year alone for climate resiliency measures that include fortifying against sea level rise.
Imperial Beach is trying to figure out how to add costly seawalls and jetties. It is requiring new developments to be built above the 100-year flood line. And city planners are addressing susceptible property, parcel by parcel.
But it's the litigation against fossil fuel producers that gives Imperial Beach a real chance, Dedina believes. "We cannot provide for our residents and address the real costs of climate change. ... What we are doing is confronting the social and economic inequity our community faces."
Many residential streets, like this one that cuts thought the heart of Imperial Beach, are projected to flood as sea level rises. Credit: David Hasemyer/ICN
Imperial Beach is not facing this future alone.
San Mateo County worries about high tides flooding San Francisco International Airport. Marin County estimates climate change damage to homes and business could amount to $16 billion. Landslides, wildfires and drought put residents of the city and county of Santa Cruz at greater risk.
In New York, officials say climate change-related harm will come from more frequent and more intense heat waves, extreme precipitation and sea level rise. It cites hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars already being spent to mitigate climate change hazards. And, in Colorado, the Rocky Mountains' dwindling snowpack threatens the state's water supply for people and agriculture.
No Slam-Dunk Court Case
Lawsuits like Imperial Beach's are meant to set new, far-reaching precedents in holding polluters financially liable for the harm they inflict. Until now, they have not been made to pay anything for global warming damage.
The companies being targeted are among the world's richest. The 37 defendants got wealthy by selling products that in the past half-century accounted for a fifth of all the world's greenhouse gas emissions, according to the city's lawsuit. And for at least the past three decades, they understood the risks.
The lawsuits lay out a detailed timeline back to 1965, when President Lyndon Johnson told Congress that burning fossil fuels was responsible for an increase in CO2. And they use the industry's own decades of admissions to show how much the industry was aware of the dangers.
The companies' vigorous defense, mounted by some of the nation's elite law firms, is that they can't be blamed. It's not possible, they argue, for any one polluter's contribution to be blamed for any one city's calamity. And blame should rest on all the producers and all the consumers of fossil fuel all over the world—not on a handful of producers.
"To meet their burden of proof, the plaintiffs are going to have to thread the eye of the needle to show that it is the named companies responsible for the damages being alleged, and not all of the other industries that are emitters or the developing industrial powers like China," said William Ruskin, a lawyer who has spent his career defending corporate giants against tort, environmental and liability claims.
Scientists have been working to answer that question since at least 2003, when Richard Heede of the Climate Accountability Institute began research that has led to a meticulous apportioning of climate damages to carbon producers.
Step by step, they documented each big energy company's production of fossil fuels. They calculated the resulting emissions from burning it all, and traced each one's contribution to the buildup of greenhouse gases. Finally, they determined the amount of warming attributable to each, along with their share of the ensuing damages—peer-reviewed stepping stones marking the pathway to liability.
The latest of these studies found that just 50 companies, from 1980 to 2010, produced the polluting fuels responsible for 10 percent of the planet's warming so far, and 4 percent of the sea level rise. It was published last year by the Union of Concerned Scientists, the Climate Accountability Institute and scientists at Oxford University.
Carbon dioxide and methane emissions traced to five of the biggest companies—Chevron, Exxon, ConocoPhillips, Shell and BP—were responsible for about 9 percent of the rise in atmospheric CO2 from 1880 to 2010, the study found. Those companies are targeted in the Imperial Beach lawsuit and the other lawsuits filed in California.
Global warming gases traced to the same five companies from 1980 to 2010, a critical span in which comprehensive scientific evidence emerged that burning fossil fuels was contributing to global warming, account for nearly 5 percent of the rise in atmospheric CO2 from 1880 to 2010.
Ann Carlson, an environmental law professor at the University of California, Los Angeles, School of Law, said the science can help define what the companies knew, when they knew it and how they reacted.
"The science has become so much more exact in identifying those responsible for creating the greenhouse emissions that it will make it difficult for the oil companies to deny responsibility," Carlson said.
The Perennial Underdog
Dedina, whose family moved to the city when he was 7, embraces the role of the underdog mayor, taking on the titans of the industrial era.
It's a familiar role. He was a boy in elementary school when he wrote a letter to the city's weekly newspaper, The Reminder, summoning all of the indignation of a fourth grader over a proposal to develop the Tijuana Estuary.
The Tijuana River Estuary runs along the southern boundary of Imperial Beach. It's a wildlife habitat that could become a source of flooding. Credit: David Hasemyer/ICN
"You said you were excited about a shopping center being built there and all that stuff. Did you ever think of all the wildlife that will be killed and the land that will be wasted?" Dedina wanted to know.
In his mid-teens, Dedina and a couple of buddies planted themselves in front of a bulldozer to prevent the damming of the Tijuana River, again in defense of the estuary.
Dedina saw the consequences of that action as nothing more than a raw publicity stunt could have ruined the estuary. A yellowed newspaper photograph shows Dedina being dragged from in front of the bulldozer.
Dedina went on to study at the University of California at San Diego on a partial surf scholarship and later earned a Ph.D. in geography from the University of Texas. He channeled youthful indignation into co-founding Wildcoastin 2000. The international organization works on conservation of coastal and marine ecosystems.
It's as though all the political and ideological fights have led Dedina to this challenge of the formidable fossil fuel industry.
Even winning the mayor's chair was a struggle: In 2014 Dedina, the decided underdog in the race, ousted the incumbent by a margin of fewer than 50 votes.
Whales’ fecal matter feeds the ocean, giving conservationists another argument for saving them
By Mike Shanahan on August 28, 2018
Blue Whale Scat. Credit: Jason Isley Getty Images
Before whales dive into the darkness of the deep ocean they often come to the surface and release a huge plume of fecal matter—which can be the color of over-steeped green tea or a bright orange sunset. When Joe Roman, a conservation biologist at the University of Vermont, saw one of these spectacular dumps in the mid-1990s, he got to wondering: “Is it ecologically important? Or is it a fart in a hurricane?”
Roman and other researchers have since shown whale excrement provides key nutrients that fuel the marine food chain, and that it also contributes to the ocean carbon cycle. These important roles are now influencing scientific and economic arguments for protecting whales, at a time when calls for a resumption of whaling are growing. “The scientific community is coming to understand a new value of whales: their role in maintaining healthy and productive oceans,” says Sue Fisher, a marine wildlife consultant at the nonprofit Animal Welfare Institute. “We are beginning to see governments use this rationale to justify measures to protect whales.” But as the International Whaling Commission (IWC) prepares for its biennial meeting next month, the ecological services whales provide are set to split the gathered countries—with an unknown outcome for the whales.
Whale poop’s importance is nothing to sniff at. In a 2010 study Roman’s team found whale defecation brings 23,000 metric tons of nitrogen to the surface each year in the Gulf of Maine—more than all the rivers that empty into the gulf combined. This nitrogen fertilizes the sea by sustaining microscopic plants that feed animal plankton, which in turn feeds fish and other animals including the whales themselves. Studies have found similar effects elsewhere, and with other nutrients found in whale feces. And when they migrate, whales also redistribute nutrients around the globe. By moving them from higher latitudes, Roman says, the giant mammals could be increasing productivity in some tropical waters by 15 percent.By stimulating the growth of microscopic plants called phytoplankton, whale scat may also help limit climate change. These tiny aquatic plants remove carbon from the atmosphere and carry it deep into the ocean when they die. Research in the Southern Ocean showed the iron defecated each year by some 12,000 resident sperm whales feeds phytoplankton that store 240,000 more metric tons of carbon in the deep ocean than the whales exhale. This means that, on balance, whales help lock carbon away.
But today’s benefits are a fraction of what these animals provided prior to the era of commercial whaling, which devastated whale populations during the 19th and 20th centuries. In 2016 ecologist Chris Doughty of the University of Oxford and his colleagues estimated ocean animals’ capacity to move nutrients around has decreased to just 5 percent of historic values. The IWC—the global body with greatest say over the fate of these animals—is beginning to take note.
The IWC was set up in 1946 not to conserve whales but rather to ensure populations remained healthy enough for continued economic exploitation of their blubber and meat. It ultimately presided over decades of overexploitation, which saw the world’s whale numbers fall by 85 percent over the second half of the 20th century. In 1986 an IWC moratorium on commercial whaling entered into force, allowing many species to begin to recover. For the next 30 years the IWC focused on whether there were enough whales to sustain resumed hunting. But in 2016 it passed a paradigm-shifting resolution that recognized for the first time the central role whales and dolphins play in ocean ecosystems, specifically because their poop boosts productivity and could help limit climate change.
As a result, the IWC Scientific Committee is now tasked with considering the broader environmental effects of allowing whales to continue to recover. It is planning an expert workshop to review knowledge of the ecological functions whales and dolphins serve, and to develop a list of research priorities. “The 2016 resolution put the IWC at the center of an opportunity to reconsider whales; not just for their economic or social value—to be consumed or watched—but their global ecological contributions,” Fisher says. “In the future, when policy makers can factor in the value of the ecological services of the whales affected, they will be able to make a much more informed and holistic decision.”
The subject will be on the agenda again when the IWC meets in September in Brazil. Representatives of the 88 member nations will consider adopting a new resolution, proposed by Chile, that would encourage governments to integrate the ecological value of whales and dolphins into local, regional and global decision-making on the environment—including climate change and conservation policies. Under another draft resolution, submitted by Brazil, the IWC would agree its mandate includes a responsibility to ensure whale numbers increase to precommercial hunting levels so that they may “fulfil their ecological and nutrient cycling roles.”
But Japan, which has led the push to resume commercial whaling, opposes these resolutions. Hideki Moronuki, a senior negotiator with Japan’s fisheries agency, says Chile’s proposal “is outside the competence of the IWC” and Brazil’s “is inconsistent with the objectives of the International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling,” the multilateral agreement under which the IWC was created.
The resolutions will face votes at the September meeting and will pass if a majority of IWC members agree. But some countries have not yet paid their annual membership dues and will lose the right to vote if the fees remain unpaid. With nearly half of the IWC members siding with Japan in recent years, the votes could be tight. The U.S. has not yet decided whether to support either resolution but “will seek to advance key conservation initiatives” and will “continue to support the moratorium on commercial whaling and will continue to oppose lethal research whaling,” says Scott Smullen, a spokesperson for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
Some conservationists are excited that the resolutions are even being considered. “Seeing this move forward at the IWC is heartening,” says Astrid Fuchs, who heads the program to end whale hunting at Whale and Dolphin Conservation, a U.K.-based nongovernmental organization. “The fact that whales play a significant role to maintain healthy oceans as ‘the oceans’ gardeners—as they sustain fish stocks and help combat climate change—is a powerful argument for their strict protection.” For Roman’s part, he says he is “thrilled” the IWC is giving weight to his and others’ findings. “I hope,” he says, “this work will lead to better, more informed conservation efforts.”
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Legislation announced Monday focuses on big buildings, and it could set a new standard for cities around the world.
SHANNON STAPLETON / REUTERS
A top New York City lawmaker announced a bill Monday to mandate dramatic energy use cuts in big buildings, by far the biggest source of carbon dioxide, in a historic move that could set a new standard for cities around the world.
The legislation plans to require the city’s largest buildings to reduce energy use by 20 percent by 2030, as well as to set a framework for increasing the cuts by 40 percent to 60 percent by 2050. Combined with projected increases for renewable energy capacity on the power grid, the city could reduce its climate-warming emissions by 80 percent. Electricity and heating in buildings make up nearly 70 percent of the city’s climate pollution, with luxury towers producing the lion’s share.
“The low-hanging fruit is gone,” City Councilman Costa Constantinides, a Queens legislator who leads the council’s Committee on Environmental Protection, said Monday morning on the steps of City Hall. “If we are going to make a real impact on climate change, it’s going to be on buildings.”
The legislation, which is not yet complete, would make the nation’s largest and most economically influential metropolis among the first major cities in the world to mandate strict retrofits on existing buildings to reduce planet-warming emissions. The proposals outlined in the bill came from an unprecedented first agreement, released last week, between environmental groups, affordable housing advocates, unions and the city’s real estate lobby on a set of policies to slash buildings’ carbon pollution 80 percent by 2050.
The only thing similar to the proposal is a cap-and-trade policy in Tokyo that allows big commercial landlords in the Japanese capital to buy and sell a limited and shrinking number of CO2 pollution permits, said Russell Unger, executive director of the Urban Green Council. Besides that, the activists and industry representatives his group convened to negotiate the proposal only had the last set of New York laws to upgrade green building requirements to use as legal guidelines.
“Nobody has done this in the world,” Pete Sikora, a senior adviser at the grassroots nonprofit New York Communities for Change, said ahead of Monday’s press conference. “This is new stuff.”
Climate policies tend to ripple far beyond New York’s five boroughs. The city is a financial and cultural giant with a gross domestic product big enough to rank among the world’s top 20 economies.
In January, Mayor Bill de Blasio announced a city lawsuit against five major oil companies over infrastructure damage from climate change; New York became one of the biggest municipalities to mount such a legal challenge. The mayor also unveiled plans to divest roughly $5 billion in fossil fuel investments from the city’s five pension plans. Other cities quickly followed suit, and, in July, Rhode Island became the first state to sue big oil firms.
The agreement last week came after months of talks between environmental groups and the powerful Real Estate Board of New York, which spent a record $10 million through its super PAC in 2013 on typically sleepy citywide races. In the end, the industry agreed to a legally enforceable 2030 target in exchange for more flexibility on how to reach the 2050 goals.
The low-hanging fruit is gone.City Councilman Costa Constantinides
“We don’t view it as a compromise,” Sikora said. “It’s a great deal. It’s a principled, bold, progressive approach.”
In a statement that left open the possibility that things could change as the bill is is written, REBNY said the proposal was a “ framework of principles” that show it recognizes “that climate change is a societal problem.”
“This means that every sector, including real estate, needs to help address it.” John H. Banks, REBNY’s president, said in the statement. “We appreciate Council Member Constantinides’ commitment to this issue and we look forward to reviewing the legislation once it is introduced.”
De Blasio has twice attempted to mandate emissions cuts from privately-owned buildings, first in 2016 and then again in 2017. But the plans went nowhere. REBNY vocally opposed the first plan. Then last September, the mayor released his second, more-detailed plan without coordinating with his usual environmental allies on the City Council, alienating legislators who were working on their own bills to cut emissions. They declined to back de Blasio’s proposal.
Constantinides introduced his own, more ambitious, bill in October.
But both mandates amounted to “half measures,” according to a report New York Communities for Change released in June. The mayor’s plan would lead to only 7 percent cuts in the city’s climate pollution. Constantinides’ bill, Intro 1745-2017, only reduced emissions by 13 percent.
There’s some concern the new legislation could put the onus to make cuts primarily on city-owned buildings. The Urban Green Council proposal calls for public-sector buildings larger than 10,000 square feet to slash energy use 20 percent by 2025, twice as fast as privately owned buildings. That’s a break from the mayor’s proposal in 2016, which called for a mandated fossil fuel cap to be applied to all buildings greater than 25,000 square feet, according to Politico New York. But “the vast majority of buildings affected by our policy framework are privately owned,” according to Unger.
The new bill already enjoys strong endorsements. Both the mayor and Council Speaker Corey Johnson signaled their support for the legislation on Monday.
The bill is also expected to give extra leeway to New York’s 1 million remaining rent-controlled apartments, to keep landlords from passing on the costs of retrofits to renters. Once Constantinides’ bill becomes law, Sikora said the next step would be pushing state lawmakers to pass similar requirements with protections for low-income renters.
Yet the new bill’s ambitious targets stirred some skepticism among climate scientists.
“I would expect, like all these agreements, the devil is in the details,” David Titley, a climate scientist at Pennsylvania State University and a retired Navy rear admiral, said, questioning whether a final law would contain sufficient penalties or “credible independent monitoring to ensure the standards are actually being met.”
The bill also aims to make cuts by mid-century that a growing number of climate activists say must be completed by 2035. Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (D-Hawaii) proposed the Off Fossil Fuels for a Better Future Act last September, calling for the end of oil, gas and coal use by 2035. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the high-profile Democrat favored to be the next U.S. representative from New York’s 14th Congressional District, is running on a similar proposal.
“I’m glad to see it pass … but we need to advance our targets in alignment with the emergency nature of the crisis,” said Gregory Schwedock, an activist with the Climate Mobilization, a grassroots group calling for World War II-levels of government spending to dramatically scale down emissions and create good-paying federal jobs. “This will not cement politicians’ climate legacies or protect us ― emissions reductions wise, the targets are much too slow and it’s a small step.”
But Michael Mann, a climate scientist and author of The Madhouse Effect: How Climate Change Denial Is Threatening Our Planet, Destroying Our Politics and Driving Us Crazy, said the 2050 target is “reasonable because infrastructure takes a long time to change, given the investment timescales involved with real estate construction.”
For Rachel Rivera, whose roof caved in during Superstorm Sandy, the legislation offers hope for a path forward. At Monday’s press conference, she repeatedly broke down in tears as she recalled snatching her daughter out of bed just before the ceiling buckled with water and fell where the 6-year-old had just been. To this day, Marisol Rivera, now 12, suffers from severe post-traumatic stress disorder. She became so hysterical when it started raining on Saturday that Rachel Rivera took her to the hospital, where the girl was sedated.
“To this day, when it rains really hard outside, she says, ‘Mommy, are we going to live today? Are we going to pass away?’” Rivera said. “The climate crisis is here. We’re living it every day.”
