Baltimore is suing major oil and gas companies for spurring the climate crisis

This article was written by Sushma Subramanian and originally published here on theguardian.com website July 2021.


For years, an elderly man stood as a regular fixture around his East Baltimore neighborhood for the way he would wander the streets in the summer, trying to stay outside his sweltering home until nightfall.

This man, who suffers from dementia, lived in a row house that shared side walls with its neighboring homes. With windows only in the front and back, there was little air flow, which trapped the heat inside. It’s not unusual for the upper floors in such homes to be several degrees hotter than the temperature outdoors.

During a nearly two-week heatwave that swept through the city in July 2019, Cynthia Brooks, executive director of the Bea Gaddy Family Center, a local non-profit that provides food and other services for the poor and homeless, noticed she hadn’t seen the man for a while. Finally, on one of the “code red” days – when the forecasted heat index is expected to be at 105F (40.56C) or higher – he stumbled out of his house, looking disoriented. No one knows how long he had been sitting inside, alone, without a fan or air conditioning.

This man had no one to call – no family was around, and alerting emergency responders could have led to a hefty medical bill. Brooks dropped everything and took him to nearby Johns Hopkins hospital, where he was diagnosed with heatstroke and given treatment. After that incident, Brooks became his legal custodian. He currently lives in a senior home nearby, and she makes his treatment decisions.

Where was everyone when Southwest Baltimore flooded?

This article was written by Rona Kobell and originally published on December 19, 2022, here in The Baltimore Banner.


There have been no anniversary celebrations to commemorate the Irvington flood, no news articles a year or five years later where residents of the Southwest Baltimore neighborhood recount where they were when the waters surged down the street in 2016 and again in 2018.

In order for an event to be commemorated, it has to be recognized in the first place — and Irvington’s flooding never was.

Such are the perils of living in the shadow of Ellicott City, the beloved historic shopping and living district that barely survived two 100-year floods within two years of each other. Those floods got plenty of attention.

Irvington was so invisible that when the pastor of one of its churches, Pastor Michael Martin of Stillmeadow Community Fellowship Church, was coordinating a food and rescue effort after the 2018 flood, he took a break only to see himself on TV identified as an “Ellicott City pastor.”