Flint water has poisoned more than just its children.

It's poisoned the citizenry's faith in government, which is supposed to provide safe drinking water, one of life's most basic essentials.

Just ask Pete Nichols who was picking up bottles of water from a downtown fire station on a recent weekday.

"Somebody needs to go to jail for this, man," said Nichols. "They're poisoning an entire community. A generation of kids will never recover from this. And it's all just to save a few dollars. They played a game of chess with our lives and we lost."

It's poisoned people's trust in the folks elected to protect the public from such calamities.

Just ask Willester Dunn, a resident of West Stewart Avenue who was also picking up water from a fire station.

"Politicians get paid to take care of the people," he said. "They let us down in Michigan. They lock us up for our crimes, what are they going to do about theirs?"

It's poisoned the spirit of a hard-knock town already accustomed to living with poverty, high-crime and unemployment.

Just ask Coco Childress, a mother of two who lives on Hamilton Street in Flint. She was picking up water and filters at a nearby fire station Friday, the same day Gov. Rick Snyder asked for federal help to address the water crisis.

"I hate his guts," Childress said about Snyder. "I'm not happy at all. I'm ready to move."

Dan Reyes, president of the UAW Local 599 in Flint, hands out bottles of Flint water to protestors during a rally outside of the Michigan State Capitol Building during Gov. Rick Snyder's State of the State address on Tuesday, Jan. 19 2016 in Lansing.

A long, complicated tale

The story that's unraveled ever since the city switched its water supply from Lake Huron to the Flint River in April 2014 initially drew little interest from folks outside of Flint. Despite complaints about the water's quality and smell, residents were told they could keep drinking.

While MLive/The Flint Journal covered the complaints, many public officials, it seems, turned a blind eye to the problem, whether knowingly or not remains to be seen.

The issue blew open in the fall of 2015 when a university researcher and a local doctor issued separate reports warning about lead in the Flint water system. Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha's study showed lead levels spiked in Flint children after the source of drinking water was switched to the Flint River.

Snyder has been pressured in recent weeks to release emails pertaining to the crisis to see just what was known and when. Snyder's office, as the Legislature, is shielded from the Freedom of Information Act. Snyder agreed to release emails at the State of the State address Tuesday.

"I'm sorry most of all that I let you down," Snyder said in the speech. "You deserve better. You deserve accountability. You deserve to know the buck stops here with me."

It's taken almost two years for the public to learn the true fallout from the water switch. Flint residents live in a state of fear and uncertainty about the health of their children, who are most vulnerable to the high levels of lead.

Even more startling is the possibility that the water led to the deaths of 10 people from Legionnaires' disease, a severe, often lethal, form of pneumonia caused by water-borne bacteria. A conclusive link between the water and the deaths has yet to be determined, though health officials were aware of a potential problem for more than a year before the public was told.

A game of finger pointing has now commenced as a national audience looks on.

The situation in Flint reached a crescendo last week when President Barack Obama signed an emergency declaration to provide federal assistance.

Although the water-source switch occurred in spring 2014, it wasn't until the fall of 2015 that the residents of Flint were finally told to stop drinking the water straight from the tap unfiltered. The authorities had concluded what some in the public had long suspected: the water is poisonous.

Disaster area

The scene at Flint's fire stations recently was like something out of a disaster movie. The bomb had dropped. The tornado had torn through town. The zombies had arrived. But Flint's crisis is no random act of God. In fact, experts have been predicting it for months.

At neighborhood stations, like Station Three located at 1525 Martin Luther King Ave., there were parking barricades set up so residents could leave their vehicles at the curb, run into the station and grab cases of bottled water, testing kits and filters.

Young, sturdy National Guardsmen in crew cuts and camouflage uniforms piled cases of bottled water on dollies and carted them to cars for people of all ages. The vast majority of the folks were black, which isn't much of a surprise in a city that is 53 percent African American.

The racial quotient of the crisis has also been controversial, with critics of the government's response saying that something like this would never happen in a predominantly white, affluent area.

Late Thursday, Jan. 14, Snyder asked for the situation to be declared a federal emergency, something President Barack Obama signed off on Saturday.

Also Saturday, Flint native and filmmaker Michael Moore held a rally in Flint, calling for Snyder's arrest. He was followed on Sunday by a visit from civil rights leader Rev. Jesse Jackson. Late Sunday night, Hillary Clinton used her closing statement in the Democratic debate to address the Flint water crisis and to criticize Snyder, a Republican.

As the story hit the national stage, the singer Cher announced she was donating 181,000 bottles of water to Flint. Environmental advocate Erin Brockovich pleaded for the EPA to investigate.

Can say,cause it's on Wires. Been working 4Wks W/Wonderful Co,Icelandic

Glacial,2Send 181,000 Bottles of water 2 Flint.PRES IS Sending MORE😂 — Cher (@cher) January 16, 2016

Out on the streets

Amid the political fury, Andrew Tower and his wife Ashley Glynn arrived at a fire station on West Pierson to pick up bottles of water.

Glynn is expecting her first child in February and is worried about the baby's health.

"I have to drink water and having to buy water bottles is kind of a pain," she said. "I wish I could just drink water out of a sink like a normal person. Everyone needs water to live."

Meanwhile, Justus Thigpen and a buddy arrived at the Hasselbring Park Senior Community Center to hang out and grab some water.

"I think this is a terrible situation," said Justus Thigpen. "I've been in Flint since 1952 and never had anything like this."

Thigpen is something of a local celebrity, having come out of Flint in the 1960s as one of the town's first professional basketball players, eventually playing for the Pistons.

"I think this is a terrible situation. I've been in Flint since 1952 and never had anything like this," he said. "For the higher ups to supposedly have known what was happening and didn't tell (anyone), that's a crock. This is a good example of our leadership not thinking things through."

Many residents said Snyder should be arrested, or, at the very least, resign from office.

"I think he should get ... outta office," said Lawrence Burns, of Grand Blanc, who was getting water for his brother, a Flint resident, at a city fire station. "People up there in Lansing just don't give a damn."

When asked Friday if Snyder had any plans to resign, spokesman Dave Murray said the governor did not.

"We understand people are frustrated," Murray said. "We are working to protect the health and safety of all Flint residents. An important part of that is to make sure they get water, filters and water tests that are available at the firehouses. We are also working through a variety of agencies at the state and federal levels of government to do what's best for residents both in the short term and long into the future."

Murray also pointed out that there are also teams of volunteers going door-to-door in Flint passing out water, filters and testing kits.

Trucks filled with supplies being escorted by Genesee County sheriff deputies and Michigan State Police made their way down Van Wagoner Avenue and nearby Philadelphia Boulevard on the city's north side Friday.

Volunteers knocked on the doors of homes, many of which are abandoned in this part of town. Windows are broken out in many of the houses. Doors lay in melting snow on front lawns. Collapsed roofs and walls leave shells of homes.

This used to be the big story in Flint, the economic collapse following the decline of the auto industry, the erstwhile driving force in town.

As a deputy knocked on the door of Derald Banks' house on Van Wagoner Avenue, a state trooper knocked on the door of the neighboring house. Banks came out in a robe and pajamas and informed the trooper no one had lived in the home next door for a while now.

Protestors march along Saginaw Street demanding clean water outside of Flint City Hall in Flint, Mich. on Wednesday Oct. 7, 2015.

When asked what he thought about the crisis after getting his bottled water and filter, Banks gave a "what-can-you" do shrug.

"It helps," he said of the efforts to get residents free water.

While some folks in town have this same defeated attitude, most are enraged.

Bernice Haynes, a Flint resident for 45 years, says she's never really trusted the town's water supply, but that since the current crisis, she has gotten spots on her legs and has been forced to see a skin specialist.

"You deserve to have water to drink and take care of your body," she said, anger and frustration easily detected in her voice. "If the water's no good, why are we paying for it? It's wrong. I'm sick of this mess. We human beings are suffering. They're acting like they're trying to kill us all."