PUBLISHER'S PAGE
Watching the River Roll
by Debi Orton
Since 1993, I've lived on the mighty Hudson River in upstate New York. When I first moved in, the river was dirty, and it wasn't uncommon to see dead fish floating near the shore. People didn't fish, and the majority of the traffic consisted of large barges whose tugboats were so loud they rattled the glass in my windows. The river is my back yard.
Still, living on the river was a great joy for me, and I loved getting up early on warm spring mornings to see the mist rise from the river as I sat on the patio to have my coffee. Shortly after I settled in, a subtle change started to happen. The water gradually seemed to get cleaner. Dead fish floating by became more and more rare. I stopped seeing empty beer cans floating by; herons and eagles began fishing along the banks.
Gradual changes continued. The State began charging tolls for use of the Canal. The barges that used to wake me from a sound sleep in the middle of the night became far less frequent. And amazingly, the pleasure boat traffic seemed to pick up. Now yachts and sailboats and huge cabin cruisers go past in droves, and I often see fishermen out near the shore in the morning, quietly fishing even though the fish they catch must be released.
If you're not familiar with upstate New York, you might be thinking that this is an environmental success story. You might be thinking that as soon as we start respecting nature, the health of our environment will improve. But that's not the end of this story.
Decades ago, a small company named General Electric manufactured plastics upstream in a town named Hudson Falls. They applied for and were granted a permit by New York State to dump polychloral biphenols (PCBs) into the river. That action, and general disrespect for the river's balance, let to the Hudson being ranked as one of the nation's most polluted rivers.
Fast forward to the 21st century, and a generally higher consciousness of environmental issues. Factor in a New York Governor and a president, both Republicans, both seeking a gesture to prove their respect for the environment. The federal Environmental Protection Agency brought suit against General Electric, and won a decision that GE would be made to pay for cleanup of massive quantities of PCBs now embedded deep into the sediment at the bottom of the river.
There were exceptionally strong opinions on both sides of the issue. Houses 25 miles away were festooned with "We Oppose Dredging" signs, and meetings to discuss the impending project erupted into shouting matches. A rash of "for sale" signs started going up all along the river, and neighbors discussed little else.
This year and next are considered the "planning phase" of the project. Thirty miles of the river are to be actively dredged, from Hudson Falls to the City of Rennselaer. Massive quantities of sediment will be removed from the river and transported by dump truck to "dewatering stations," arbitrarily sited by the federal government.
I'm very ambivalent about this project. I don't like the idea of carcinogens in the river I've come to love. But five factors feed my misgivings about the dredging. First, it's being managed by the federal government. Second, there is no practical way to remove the PCBs from the sediment that doesn't entail resuspending some of the material in the river for a substantial length of time. Third, most of us on my side of the river get our water from drilled or dug wells. What are the chances that the river has some relationship to the water table feeding our wells? What guarantee is there that our wells won't be polluted while the river is being cleaned? Fourth, every other work plan I hear for this project entails 24-7 work, dredging and trucking non-stop. Forget about sleep or peace or privacy. Fifth, after the sediment is removed from the river, it will be "de-watered" — and then trucked to a hazardous waste facility in another state. We're simply moving the problem from the river to someone else's back yard.
GE contends that the PCBs have been encapsulated in the sediment and are no longer an active hazard. Their reticence about the cleanup is predictable and completely understandable. But if the hazardous material isn't removed, it remains a time bomb for future generations.
That's the problem with big issues. There are valid points on all sides. And I've discovered that my strongest feelings about this project are completely selfish. I'll miss my quiet mornings with the herons and eagles, watching the sun rise through stillness of the mists, and the sunsets reflected in the mirror-like calm of the still waters that gave the village of Stillwater its name.
Copyright 2006, Debi Orton