As someone who lived in military housing during the Red Hill water crisis, I am haunted by the institutional betrayal of those 93,000 of us, military and civilians, affected by the jet fuel contamination by the Navy. Over the past year, I have come to the conclusion that the Navy, and the Department of Defense as a whole, doesn’t care about us. The 93,000 of us are expendable because we reflect the existential national security threat that they do not wish anyone to see: themselves.
On Dec. 1, 2021, I attended the Navy’s first and last true town hall on Red Hill. It was clear from their opening statements that they were going to play politics with our lives. In an overcrowded chapel I heard the same mantra repeated by Navy officials, “There is no indication that there is anything wrong with the water … drink the water that you feel is safe.”
I was dumbfounded. Weren’t all of us sitting in the room “indications” that something was wrong!? If anger, tears, and stories of desperation were not enough for the Navy to do the right thing, then what would? The 93,000 of us had the reasonable expectation that Navy leadership would protect and defend us. Instead of fulfilling their oaths to protect us, Navy officials put us danger. Then instead of defending us from further harm they gaslighted us as we continued to raise legitimate concerns about our health and safety. Continuously, Navy officials have shown they would rather protect the Navy’s “image” and continue with their status quo than to have the courage and moral fortitude to right the wrong that they created.
To this day the Navy shamefully downplays the seriousness of the long-term medical problems the Navy’s jet fuel contaminated water has caused us. The military’s medical professionals in just the last few months have asserted that any hydrocarbons found in our blood could be from filling up our lawnmowers, or pumping gas into our cars. They say we are looking for “magical tests” that will tell why so many are still sick.
I am enraged for those who are still suffering from very real and life threatening medical issues who read such patronizing comments. We are not looking for a magical test. We simply ask to be treated with dignity, respect and to not be played as fools. We want them to use all their medical knowledge and intellectual curiosity to give answers to those who are still sick.
The fact that the newly established Red Hill Clinic that took over a year to create isn’t staffed with a toxicologist or an endocrinologist, or other specialists who are willing to entertain the idea that people’s medical issues are a direct result of the Navy’s jet fuel contamination, is further evidence of the Navy’s apathy and cowardice.
Until the Navy is held accountable and starts putting people before the institution, we the injured and residents of Oahu, must rescue ourselves and be the heroes of our own story. We must reflect the values that we expect from the Navy. We must meet its apathy with passion and action. We must send the message that we are not expendable. The people of Oahu are not expendable. Oahu’s water and land are not expendable and service members and their families are not expendable.
There are already many heroes behind the scenes, many who do not realize that they are heroes by simply keeping our story alive. To all of you, I want you to know that you have given us an invaluable gift — HOPE because we are not alone.
Lindsey Wilson and her husband lived at Aliumanu Military Reservation during the Navy’s Red Hill water crisis, and have since moved to Montana for their health and safety.