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The regionÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s geography alone makes it dangerously vulnerable. Thousands of homes are nestled within 200 feet of creeks and rivers, tucked into narrow mountain valleys with little room to escape a fast-rising flood. As climate change accelerates and heavy rains become more intense and more frequent, these areas become potential death traps. We saw it in eastern Kentucky in 2022, where flash floods killed 45 people and left thousands displaced. Here in southern West Virginia, the risk is just as high, if not higher.

And now, another alarming trend is emerging. Atmospheric rivers, once thought to be a mostly western phenomenon, are increasingly shifting eastward.

These massive, moisture-laden air streams can dump a monthÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s worth of rain in a day. Climate scientists have already noted their growing presence in the Mississippi and Ohio River valleys. If even one of these storms strikes central Appalachia, it could overwhelm every stream and pond, triggering landslides, flash floods, and chemical spills that the region is utterly unprepared to handle.

ThatÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s because on top of natural vulnerability, the land bears the wounds of industry. Strip mining has scarred the mountains and stripped away forest cover, accelerating runoff. Over 100 abandoned mining ponds, many containing toxic chemicals used to wash coal, dot the region, often unmonitored, poorly maintained, and poised above towns and streams.

A major flood or landslide could breach one or more of these ponds, sending a wave of contaminated water downriver for hundreds of miles. Entire ecosystems could be wiped out. Drinking water could be poisoned. Lives could be lost.

And still, nothing is being done. No comprehensive risk assessment. No flood warning systems. No decommissioning. No relocation of residents. In fact, itÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s getting worse. The federal government has slashed funding for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), the very agency responsible for monitoring extreme weather and providing flood alerts. Local emergency services are overwhelmed and underfunded. In many hollers, there isnÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™t even a working siren.

To make matters even more tragic, many of the people most at risk have been convinced that none of this is happening.

Decades of disinformation from conservative media and political operatives have left much of southern West Virginia deeply skeptical of science. Climate change, to many here, is a hoax, a lie cooked up by liberals to take away coal jobs and control how people live.

Donald Trump, who carried the region by overwhelming margins, famously called climate change ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œa Chinese hoaxÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥� and dismantled key environmental protections during his first term and has further destroyed them recently. His supporters here still cheer those decisions, not realizing they are cheering their own destruction.

This isnÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™t just heartbreaking. ItÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s lethal.

When people refuse to believe they are in danger, they donÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™t prepare. They donÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™t demand action. They vote for leaders who promise to ÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥œbring back coalÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥� instead of building resilient infrastructure, mapping flood zones or modernizing emergency response systems. They are being lied to, and they are the ones who will pay the price.

WhatÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™s needed now is bold, immediate federal action. The Environmental Protection Agency and FEMA must survey and secure abandoned mine ponds.

NOAA must be funded to expand early warning systems across rural Appalachia. State officials must be honest with their constituents about the growing threat, even if it costs them votes. And local residents, no matter their politics, must begin to ask a simple question: What if weÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™re wrong?

What if climate change is real? What if the floods are coming? What if weÃÛÁÄÖ±²¥™re sitting on a bomb?

The time to argue is over. The time to act is now.

Before this land we love is washed away, while we still have the chance to save it.