In 2018, while eight months pregnant, I moved to Park City — my partner’s hometown — while directing an investigation into the Flint water crisis for PBS Frontline. For two years, I lived in Flint, documenting the impact of lead and Legionella-contaminated water consumed unknowingly for 18 months. I spent my days in courtrooms with officials charged with manslaughter and my nights with individuals grappling with grave illnesses or mourning loved ones. The scale of suffering was staggering, nearly impossible to grasp, alongside the negligence of those responsible.
After I arrived in Utah, my son was born, and our investigation aired. It was then that I began to truly grasp the challenge of keeping a curious infant away from water. Every splash is an invitation; eating snow is simply too tempting. In that moment, I felt a deep connection to the mothers I had documented, grappling with the magnitude of the crime against them. Yet I was convinced the water was safe. My concern felt like an intellectual exercise, a distant contemplation of “what if?”
I didn’t fully understand the gravity of their reality until it became my own.
I heard stories about arsenic and heavy minerals; we filtered those out at home. But what I didn’t hear — what wasn’t part of the conversation — was PFAS. According to attorneys I’ve spoken with who were involved in wrongful death lawsuits surrounding PFAS, there is no safe level for human consumption. And for the last few years, my family may have consumed a significant amount, placing us at risk for cancers like leukemia, kidney and testicular, immune dysfunction and developmental delays.
As a mother, this is unconscionable.
As an award-winning investigative reporter, I pride myself on being well-informed. Yet I remained oblivious to this grave threat. Busy navigating new parenthood, I trusted my partner, who was raised in Park City, to be aware of any serious concerns. He wasn’t. I acknowledge we should have sought more information, but shouldn’t something as fundamental as water contamination be impossible to overlook? It should reach us, not the other way around.
Drinking water contaminated with PFAS is dangerous, and right now Park City’s water supply is affected. To remove known PFAS compounds from our water, specific, expensive NSF-certified filters are required. Yet countless PFAS compounds exist, and we only know how to filter out two. This is a public health crisis that isn’t being communicated effectively.
In this ski town where more than half a million tourists flock each year, who is warning them that the water in their short-term rentals might not be safe to drink? When families invest in homes, who is revealing that the water they’ll use for drinking, cooking, bathing and laundry could harbor cancer risks? As employees commute from across the state, who is ensuring they know that the water at their workplace might be tainted? And for the teachers supervising elementary students eager to eat snow — who is informing them that some snow is polluted with PFAS?
In this stunning landscape, how many are unaware of the hidden truths beneath the surface?
Ultimately, the city bears the responsibility to proactively communicate these dangers, and to provide clear guidance on how to navigate and mitigate them effectively. Every new tenant deserves to be informed about the invisible yet serious risks associated with the water supply. Every employer, school administrator and restaurant owner must be empowered with the knowledge necessary to keep everyone safe.
The city of Flint, the state of Michigan and various responsible organizations are facing lawsuits amounting to hundreds of millions of dollars due to the catastrophic consequences of the water crisis. These legal actions, primarily driven by claims of negligence and the severe health impacts on residents, could lead to financial liabilities far exceeding what would have been the cost of proactive measures. The financial burden of ongoing lawsuits, stemming from long-term health issues like cancer, underscores the urgent need for preventative investments, an important part of which is clear communication about the risks and preventative measures people can take.
In essence, a commitment to safeguarding public health now could save the city and state from incurring much greater expenses down the line.
At the end of the day, as a mother, all I care about is that I’m made aware when the water flowing from my tap isn’t safe for my family to drink. Is it too much to ask?
Moreover, shouldn’t the city offer regular updates on its efforts to eliminate PFAS from the water supply? Access to this crucial information should be straightforward, yet it remains elusive. This community deserves transparency and safety, and we cannot ignore this silence anymore.
(Abby Ellis) Abby Ellis is an award-winning investigative reporter and documentary filmmaker.
Abby Ellis is an award-winning investigative reporter and documentary filmmaker. She makes films about the moments and institutions that shape us. She is currently directing a feature film on Great Salt Lake and the efforts to save it.
Clarification, Nov. 20 at 12:30 p.m.: This story has been updated to reflect that the author recently lived in Park City. She has since moved to a nearby community.
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