Atlanta’s Procter Creek has been called the most polluted stream in our city. On a Saturday in November 2022, I collected a baggie full of the water and lifted it to the sky. It looks clear, I thought. Then I remembered the stream is plagued with the sediment, poisonous runoff, and pollutants contained in this watershed, including unsafe levels of E. coli. I was glad I wore protective gloves. Watersheds are areas of land that collect small streams of water flowing downhill into larger streams. Thousands of urban waterways in America are highly stressed from pollution. Procter Creek is Atlanta’s poster child for the problem.
I was out collecting Procter Creek water with my husband as part of a community science project with Chattahoochee Riverkeeper (CRK). The air was sharp on the November morning, yet the sun reflected brightly on the faces of the 90 volunteers who gathered to lend a hand at the Westside Park’s “Rebirth of Atlanta” pavilion.
“Here are the people who do more than tell us we are doomed,” Fred whispered to me as our trainer began to speak.
“Today, we are testing the health of our streams. Remember, rain water doesn’t just fall straight down into our waterways. It falls on everything out there,” Shaundon stretched his arms out wide. “Tires, trash, developers, industrial waste––all of it out there provides the runoff that sheds down into our creeks.”
Scientists who study waterways like to say we all live downstream.
The “living downstream” thought echoed in my mind that morning as I heard about the groups and government organizations who’ve been working for 20-plus years to reduce pollutants in Procter Creek. There has been some success. Since 2004, a sewage system overhaul reduced sewer overflows into the stream by 97 percent, yet the frenetic pace of development in our city of almost half a million people continues, and that brings ongoing problems for little Procter Creek.
Know Thy River
Fred and I were assigned to collect a sample of water from a bridge that spans Procter Creek near Boyd Elementary School. To do this, we were provided a backpack that included a 40-foot rope, a baggie labeled “PC-Johnson Road,” a topographical map with coordinates to our exact sampling location, plastic gloves, and hand sanitizer. We strode off, feeling industrious on our one-mile walk. I’d even remembered to bring along a bag to collect small bits of trash along the way.
“Know Thy River, isn’t that what they say?” Fred asked after we arrived at our site and he began unpacking our bag.
“Yes, I think so. I like this feeling of being a junior scientist,” I said. “Or maybe citizen scientist since I’m like, mature?” We laughed. It felt exciting to do something new and helpful today. We laid out all our testing materials neatly side by side on the sidewalk and began to reread our directions.
I leaned over the chipped railing of the bridge we stood on and gazed down at the ripples of the barely moving water below. I spoke to the river, “Procter Creek, do you know there are organizations about you? They have Procter Creek t-shirts and everything. There’s a greenway too. Procter Creek Greenway.”
The creek down in the shadows below was shallow and some 15-feet wide. Wild brush and tangled vines covered the banks of the gloomy V-shaped opening below. As the drab foliage petered out, rust-brown mud banks took their place and sloped the rest of the way down to the water’s edge. To collect our water sample, Fred lowered our empty baggie way down into the stream with the rope and scooped up about a cupful of the wet stuff essential to life. CRK had provided us with a special container that was just heavy enough to sink into the water and capture what we needed. “That worked better than I thought it would,” he said after he’d raised it up, secured the top, and packed it on ice to keep it fresh inside our backpack.
The next task for our morning was to document our observations on a data sheet CRK had provided. I noted the circle of a tire and the rust of a grocery cart mired in the grit of the water below. We documented the color of the water––clear; whether we noticed an odor––no; and whether we saw any wildlife in or around the stream––no. Despite seeing some trash in Procter, there was beauty at our site too, even though the form didn’t have a section to write about it. My eyes were drawn repeatedly to the play of light on the shiny water where the sun hit it at mid-stream. I snapped a few photos to remember.
Don’t stay home and worry alone.
After we returned our samples, Shaundon thanked us and reminded us of the importance of the work. “I hope you enjoyed your first-hand experience. We need your eyes, ears, actions,” he said. “This annual survey of the Procter Creek Watershed is important. With our small staff, we don’t go out to these sites routinely. You know how we all hear about climate anxiety? I think it is better to get out here and do something. Don’t stay home and worry alone.”
Based on what I saw and learned that day, urban water systems here and all over the world are challenged by construction which is a huge source of pollution. Procter Creek’s headwaters begin as groundwater underneath some of Atlanta’s famed architectural highlights such as the CNN complex and the Mercedes-Benz stadium. Water, simple water, the substance that’s essential for human life can become complicated because of its relationships. First, there’s groundwater. In the case of Procter Creek, it begins deep in the soil of downtown Atlanta which over time has become fouled by heavy construction. The groundwater becomes ditch water, then it is tributary water, then eventually it gathers into a creek. Northwest Atlanta’s Procter Creek is a 9-mile stream, pretty and trickling over smooth river rock in some places, but trashy and smelly in many others. It snakes it way northwest and empties into the 430-mile Chattahoochee River, a river that supplies Atlanta 70 percent of its drinking water.
How Sociology Fits In
Some environmental experts suggest we use sociology, the study of how human society functions, as a foundation for improved environmental conservation projects. This approach involves the general population in conserving and learning about the local environment thereby creating a sense of what has been called “ecological citizenship.” More commonly, you hear the term “citizen science” or “community science.” Our recent volunteer work with CRK is an example of this type of volunteer work. To mitigate my own sense of climate anxiety, I’ve committed to 12-months of citizen science activities based in Georgia in 2023. I am still working on my list, but for now, I’ve chosen CRK, the Lost Ladybug Project, FrogWatch USA, Audubon’s Bird Watch programs, and more. I will add others as I work through the year, documenting my activities and highlighting what I’ve learned.
Thanks, Pam. I'm very familiar with that property; the Proctor Creek Trail through there is a PATH installation. On the far side of the creek and not far upstream from where you were testing is the now closed City of Atlanta Gun Club landfill. The landfill is old enough that is is not lined. There are monitoring wells installed on the far side of Proctor Creek where it abuts the landfill property to check for pollutant leachate in the groundwater. It will take regular testing and citizen vigilance (made possible in part by you and Fred!) to stay on top of the threats to this waterway.
https://saportareport.com/deal-to-give-former-park-to-developer-in-exchange-for-affordable-housing-raises-concerns/sections/reports/johnruch/
Pam, a very informative take on your experience.