A massive nitric acid spill in McArthur, Ohio, has turned a quiet Wednesday into a scene from a dystopian novel. The Austin Powder Red Diamond plant, known for crafting explosives for construction and mining, unleashed thousands of gallons of this hazardous chemical, sending residents scrambling and grounding flights across a swath of airspace bigger than Rhode Island, as the Daily Mail reports. This isn’t the first time Ohio’s been choked by toxic fumes, and folks are understandably fed up.
On Wednesday morning, a storage tank at the plant spewed 3,000 gallons of nitric acid, creating ominous orange-brown plumes of nitric oxide gas. This disaster, 185 miles east of the 2023 East Palestine train derailment, has reignited fears of chemical catastrophes in the Buckeye State. Authorities are still clueless about what caused the leak, which only adds to the unease.
The Vinton County Sheriff’s Office didn’t waste time, ordering an immediate evacuation of Zaleski, a village of 750 souls. Dispatchers directed residents to hunker down at Vinton County High School’s gym, where they’re likely wondering how long they’ll be displaced. Meanwhile, several local roads are shuttered, turning daily commutes into logistical nightmares.
The Federal Aviation Administration slammed a no-fly zone over 3,700 square miles, halting nearly all flights within 30 nautical miles of the spill site. Only relief flights are allowed, leaving commercial and private pilots grounded. This airspace ban, covering an area twice Rhode Island, underscores the spill’s severity.
Jackson County Emergency Management Director Robert Czechlewski confirmed the leak’s scale, stating, “3,000 gallons leaked from the tank.” That’s a lot of corrosive liquid, folks, and it’s no surprise the air won’t be safe for hours. The progressive push for lax regulations might have emboldened industries, but spills like this expose the real cost of cutting corners.
Nitric acid, when mixed with air, produces nitric oxide, the culprit behind those eerie orange clouds haunting McArthur’s skies. Exposure can irritate eyes, throats, and lungs, and in worse cases, cause drowsiness or unconsciousness. Vinton County Health Department’s Brad Price warned, “Anyone exposed to the dangerous chemical should immediately flush out their eyes and clean their skin.”
Price also noted, “People could also feel drowsy and possibly fall unconscious.” His advice is solid, but it’s cold comfort when you’re fleeing your home with kids in tow. Those with worsening symptoms are urged to call their doctors, but good luck getting timely care in a crisis like this.
Thankfully, no injuries have been reported, but that’s little solace when the long-term effects of exposure loom large. The 2023 East Palestine derailment, where vinyl chloride and other carcinogens spilled, left residents grappling with respiratory issues, fatigue, and cancer risks. McArthur’s spill may not involve carcinogens, but the parallels are too close for comfort.
East Palestine’s disaster saw 540,000 square miles across 16 states exposed to toxic chemicals, with Norfolk Southern settling a $600 million lawsuit in 2024. A 2025 lawsuit, including seven wrongful death claims, alleges the company and federal agencies botched the cleanup. Ohioans are right to question whether McArthur’s cleanup will be handled with more competence.
The East Palestine derailment dumped chemicals into the Ohio River and soil, raising fears of cancer clusters. Residents there still face health issues tied to a dozen chemicals, including leukemia and liver cancer risks. McArthur’s spill, while different, fuels distrust in a system that seems to prioritize profits over people.
The Austin Powder plant’s role in producing explosives adds another layer of worry. If a nitric acid tank can fail, what’s stopping a bigger catastrophe at a facility handling volatile materials? The lack of clarity on the leak’s cause only deepens suspicions of negligence.
Local authorities are working to contain the spill, but the timeline for safety remains murky. Hours, they say, but Ohioans know “hours” can stretch into days or weeks when bureaucracy gets involved. The progressive mantra of trusting institutions feels hollow when you’re choking on chemical fumes.
Zaleski’s 750 residents are now refugees in their county, camped out in a high school gym. The human toll of disrupted lives, closed roads, and grounded flights can’t be overstated. Yet, the mainstream media’s likely to downplay this as a “local issue” while fawning over urban elites’ pet causes.
The spill’s orange plumes are a stark reminder of Ohio’s vulnerability to industrial mishaps. East Palestine’s residents, still reeling from 2023, can attest to the lasting scars of such disasters. McArthur’s folks deserve better than being collateral damage in the quest for industrial efficiency.
As Ohio grapples with yet another chemical crisis, the question isn’t just how this happened, but why it keeps happening. A conservative approach -- demanding accountability, enforcing strict regulations, and prioritizing communities over corporate bottom lines -- might prevent the next McArthur or East Palestine. Until then, Ohioans are left holding their breath, literally and figuratively.
