As the heat broke through the late-day haze, workers at Newark's South Ward recreation center notified dozens of residents that the bottled water they had been waiting for would not be distributed for another four hours.

Like many in the crowd who came with pull carts, Delores Owens, a mother of three, was disgusted but resigned. She says her tap water had been "horrible" for months, prompting her to buy bottled water with food stamps.

"I don't have an option,'' she said earlier this month outside the Marquis "Bo" Porter recreation center. "I can't drink it."

Owens and the other people running out of water aren't the only ones struggling with limited options.

This water crisis shows the state's inability to confront a long-festering infrastructure disaster affecting not only aging cities like Newark, but scores of suburban towns.

While Newark may get $120 million bailout for its crisis from the Essex County Improvement Authority — the plan is expected to be announced Monday — Gov. Phil Murphy and the Legislature lack the will and resources to confront a statewide public health problem that lies, literally, right beneath their feet.

Environmental activists, health officials and lawmakers have been raising the alarm for years that the lead lining of century-old pipes may be leaching poison into New Jersey water, endangering children and pregnant mothers.

But the cost to replace the pipes is staggering, and state officials have chosen to go begging from the federal government for financial help.

The current water crisis was ignited earlier this month after federal Environmental Protection Agency officials found that water filters the city issued last October failed to screen high concentrations of lead in two of three homes it recently tested.

Officials began distributing bottled water to residents whose homes receive their water from the city's Pequannock water plant. It's the latest in a long history of temporary fixes. Last year the city handed out some 38,000 water filters.

Yet it's pretty clear that the real solution will be an enormously costly one: a complete root-to-branch overhaul of New Jersey's water system, one that could cost the state $3 billion to $5 billion. It's a tab that's going to require the help of Congress and the Trump administration — which has not made New Jersey a top target of its affections.

Murphy repeatedly makes that point as the crisis, with its clear echo of the Flint, Michigan, water fiasco, threatens to linger in uncertainty for weeks and possibly longer. The talking point helps Murphy change the subject as more officials urge the governor to declare a state of emergency, a step he has resisted so far.

“But to me it would be a huge step for the country, for the Trump administration and for the Congress to take that step and say we’re going to have a 10-year investment in water infrastructure all over the country,'' Murphy said in Montclair last Thursday.

Waiting for Trump and Congress may prove to be an exercise in futility.

Trump has veered from one hot-button issue to the next — from China trade war to background checks for gun purchases to payroll taxes — without any clarity or resolve. And it's hard to see how a Republican-controlled Senate will be eager finance a "renaissance" in water infrastructure, as Murphy calls it, especially in the Northeast. The members showed little sympathy for authorizing emergency aid for Superstorm Sandy seven years ago.

Murphy's focus on the feds also deflects attention from the state's own inability to summon resources for an extensive overhaul.

A joint legislative task force in 2017 raised the alarm on the "hidden water infrastructure crisis," noting that the state loses 130 million gallons of treated water a day through leaky pipes and that some 350,000 homes and businesses rely on lead pipes and fixtures.

The report prompted the task force co-chairman, Assemblyman Jack McKeon, D-Essex, to sponsor a $400 million bond act to finance new water pipes and systems. It has gone nowhere.

"I just think there is an enormity to the issue,'' McKeon said, explaining the lack of interest in his bill. Complicating any overhaul is the question of how far the state can go in resolving the issue, since many aging water lines are the responsibility of, and owned by, homeowners.

Another problem is the state's staggering debt, nearly $46.1 billion, one of the largest mountains of debt in the country. The state is already shelling out $4 billion a year in debt payments.

Meanwhile, in Newark, all Murphy and city officials say they can do is wait for an expanded round of tests conducted by the EPA and city and state officials to be completed.

Officials who sprang into crisis mode and ordered bottled water distribution on the basis of two tests have had little to say so far about the new testing or when they will disclose more details.

Murphy, who has declared states of emergency in the past for minor snowstorms, is hesitant to do so now, in part because he doesn't know the true extent of the problem.

"I think you call a state of emergency if you outspend your capacity, if you are beyond your means, whether the community, the county or the state, and we’re not in that situation,'' he said.

LEAD IN WATER:Lead levels in Bergen, Hudson drinking water drop, technically meet health standard

WATER SAFETY:Bloomfield officials say drinking water is safe, but homes with older plumbing are at risk

WATCH:Phil Murphy talks with Newark officials about its water crisis

But declaring a state of emergency would ratchet up political and public pressure on Newark Mayor Ras J. Baraka, a crucial political ally of Murphy within a deeply divided state Democratic Party. Baraka has made it clear that while he'll take the state's assistance, he'll oppose any state intervention in the city's water system.

"Let me be clear about one thing: The city of Newark is not interested in turning over our water source to any outside entity,” Baraka wrote to Assemblyman Jamel Holley, D-Hillside, who called for a state of emergency.

Marioyn Cooper, a drug and alcohol abuse counselor, summed up her situation as she waited on line.

"We have taxes to pay. We have insurance to pay. We’re trying to live every day,'' she said. "Now we are being told we can’t drink the water at all.''