Tahera Arrington worked nights at a Curtis Bay chemical plant and slept days in her West Baltimore rowhome, at least until Amtrak started work in her neighborhood on a big new tunnel under the city.

The “constant pounding and noise” prevented her from getting much rest, she said. One night in February, she took a work break in her car.

“I fell asleep,” Arrington said.

After waking two hours later, she was reprimanded by her boss, suspended, and ultimately fired after nearly nine years on the job.

Midtown-Edmondson, Arrington’s neighborhood, has turned into a big construction site as Amtrak prepares to build the western entrance to the future Frederick Douglass Tunnel next door.

Officials as high up as former President Joe Biden have stressed the importance of the multibillion-dollar project that will replace a decrepit, Civil War-era tunnel and unlock the worst bottleneck along Amtrak’s Northeast Corridor by allowing trains to travel faster under Baltimore.

But the construction will upend daily life for years in Midtown-Edmondson, where residents fear the daily burden will push them out before they see the promised benefits.

The tunnel’s construction is only just beginning, but it’s already making the neighborhood unlivable, residents say. Amtrak already paid to move some neighbors out and now is extending the offer to more people.

In an emailed statement, Amtrak spokesperson W. Kyle Anderson said the national passenger rail company is “committed to being a good community partner” as it advances the critical project, and has provided community members with phone and email contacts for construction complaints or to claim property damage. The team responds within two business days, he said, and potential damage claims are investigated.

“We understand that even when work is performed in accordance with planned noise and vibration limits, construction activities may be perceived as a nuisance,” Anderson wrote.

Amtrak also offered to do preconstruction property surveys for area residents to serve as a baseline to determine later whether their homes were damaged. About half of eligible residents took them up on the offer so far, he said.

Currently, crews are digging up roads and alleys to relocate utility lines, and construction will ramp up as they prepare for tunnel boring to begin sometime next year. Subcontractors are supposed to use “all reasonable efforts” to reduce vibrations, like avoiding pile-driving when they can, according to project documents.

But community groups have expressed doubt that crews are taking such care, pointing out that the responsibility for monitoring and reporting vibration levels is on the subcontractors themselves, not a third party.

Some residents, Arrington included, say they have noticed new damage in their homes since construction began or worry that it has exacerbated existing problems.

“It is destroying the neighborhood, as folks that have managed to live there until now through some of this disruption have reached a point where it’s not sustainable to continue living there anymore,” said Amy Petkovsek, director of the nonprofit Community Law Center, which is representing Midtown-Edmondson and nine other neighborhoods in a civil rights complaint about the tunnel before the Federal Railroad Administration.

Though some have written the claims off as petty NIMBYism (i.e., “not in my backyard”), the complaint alleges there were alternative routes for the tunnel that would have less impact on mostly Black and working class neighborhoods. Project critics point to language in the Railroad Administration’s 2017 decision greenlighting it and the accompanying environmental analyses that highlight a “disproportionately high and adverse effects to Environmental Justice populations.”

Moving out

Many of the issues caused by the construction are daily hassles and inconveniences: the maze of road closures and the noise. Some grew into larger problems — more trash and litter, residents say, coincided with new rodent and bug infestations in some homes.

The work also created an entirely new problem, residents say. Construction crews sealed off many nearby storm drains to prevent debris from flowing to the Chesapeake Bay, and residents have since reported flooded streets and basements during heavy rains.

It’s the second summer of disruptions for the neighborhood. Last August, before Amtrak broke ground, BGE found water in area gas lines, causing houses to go weeks without gas while crews tore up multiple blocks to fix the pipes.

“We don’t want people suffering in silence,” said Baltimore City Councilman John Bullock, who represents the neighborhood.

Though Amtrak has hosted periodic public meetings to keep neighbors informed, Bullock said that residents’ concerns are valid. It’s incumbent on Amtrak to take them seriously, he added.

Last year, Amtrak worked out relocation deals for the few residents on the west side of the 1000 block of North Payson Street, next to the construction staging area, and have since torn down those houses.

Now, it’s offering more deals. Though Arrington already moved out because of all the headaches, she still owns the Payson Street house and received a letter from Amtrak July 23 offering to acquire her property due to “extended utility disruptions” on the block.

‘Light at the end of the tunnel’

The worst of the disruptions in Midtown-Edmondson are still to come — relocating the utility lines is only the beginning.

But there’s a “light at the end of the tunnel,” said Bullock, who wants to remind community members that today’s pain is tomorrow’s promise.

Amtrak has committed to rebuilding the nearby West Baltimore MARC station, which officials expect can stimulate additional development. Nearby bridges will get rebuilt, too, Bullock added, and Amtrak created a $50 million community investment fund that will support additional projects to help the neighborhood.

But today’s pain is still real, Petkovsek said, adding that the Community Law Center may file further lawsuits over the conditions created by construction.

“The community is asking that their community be restored not in 10 years, but now,” she said.

Community groups have asked if the Amtrak investment fund could pay residents directly to fix their homes. Some are skeptical that any community investment fund will pay off now that Donald Trump is in the White House again, and seemingly hellbent on slashing spending seen as “woke.”

Arrington may not qualify for a relocation package — she owns a second property nearby, where she moved her family to escape. She did so earlier this year, deciding to renovate the Payson Street house in hopes of renting it out.

Recently, while installing drywall, Arrington noticed pools of water in the basement. Then, small pests, maybe “waterbugs” started showing up dead all over the house. A contractor pointed out a crack in the foundation. She’d have to get a structural engineer to determine if it was there before Amtrak’s construction began, she said, but she fears it’s worsened in recent months.

Amtrak has told her it will buy her house. They told her they would send an appraiser to assess the value, which she worries has fallen since construction.

Meanwhile, renting it out is impossible because of the extended utility disruptions. She feels she’s being backed into a corner.

“I was forced out of my home,” she said. “I didn’t want to leave my home.”