Written by Stel Bailey | Environmental Health Advocate & Writer
The Florida Space Coast is a place that should only conjure images of wonder. Rockets carve paths into the heavens, dolphins leap through sunlit waters, and every evening the sky is painted with strokes of orange and violet. For generations, families here have lived against this backdrop of beauty, a place where life was supposed to feel safe, steady, and eternal.
But beneath this postcard-perfect façade, a darker truth has surfaced. In 2018, our paradise was pierced by the discovery that groundwater at Patrick Air Force Base carried PFAS chemical levels so astronomical, over 4 million parts per trillion, that they shocked even seasoned scientists. These so-called “forever chemicals” had seeped into our waterways, wildlife, and into the lives of the people who called this coast home.
The response was not led by politicians or agencies, but by us, the people. Cancer patients and survivors pooled their own money for independent water tests. Families dug into research, united by grief, fear, and determination. What we found turned unease into outrage: PFAS contamination was everywhere, and our health was paying the price.
What began as a self-reported cancer registry with 120 cases ballooned to over 800 in mere months. Leukemia. Breast cancer. Lymphoma. Bladder and liver cancers. ALS. Many diagnoses came not in old age, but in youth. Families with no genetic predispositions, some with clean genetic testing, were struck again and again. Generations who had lived here for decades saw their legacies rewritten in medical charts.
And yet, officials told us to accept the unacceptable. They called a mother, daughter, and childhood friend battling cancer at once “normal.” They dismissed a street with 12 breast cancer cases as “coincidence.” They brushed aside rare cancers afflicting multiple graduates from a single high school as “bad luck.” But what they were really saying is that corporate negligence and toxic exposure have become normalized, and that our suffering is a footnote.
These aren’t coincidences. They’re patterns. They’re warnings. They’re stories of young lives bent under the weight of a diagnosis that never should have happened. Imagine being told your chronic pain, your memory loss, your inability to fight infections, and your scars from surgeries are simply the price of survival. Imagine hearing that your future, your children’s future, should be compromised so someone else can cut costs.
But here on the Space Coast, survivors have learned to turn anguish into action. Cancer made us warriors, not just patients. Our battles forged voices too powerful to be silenced. We fight for the children yet to be born, so they inherit water free of poisons, air free of hidden threats, and communities that value people over profit.
Florida’s water crisis is bigger than any one town. PFAS and other contaminants ripple through the state’s aquifers, rivers, and estuaries, threatening millions. The past cannot be undone, but the present demands our courage. Stricter rules, stronger accountability, and less pollution are not luxuries. They are lifelines.
We are not statistics. We are neighbors, parents, children, friends. And we refuse to let another generation inherit silence.
Our fight is not just for zero pollution. It is for zero excuses. It is for life itself.