Small Victories

Small Victories

Noel Laflin

11-13-17

Sam calls me the prophet, and I call him the enforcer.

 

Between the two of us, along with others in the neighborhood, we keep an eye on our little pond – home to countless ducks, coots, turtles, and at least fifty species of birds that depend on this small water treatment reservoir in the heart of El Modena, at the far end of the city.

Over the years we have thrown out trespassing teenage fishermen – hoping to score selfies with their catches - scared the be-jesus out of rock-throwing children – aiming for ducks of course - and today staved off a small ecological disaster brought on by an unfortunate sewage spill into the pond some ten days ago.

As raw sewage rushed into the drains which feed the canal - which, in turn feed the pond - local agencies jumped into action, determining that the pond must be drained.  All two million gallons.

Water levels dropped to alarming levels.  By Thursday, hundreds of small feeder fish were beginning to die, due to lack of oxygen.  By today, larger fish were beginning to perish in the mudflats being left behind.  I was documenting it all with photos, and private messaging the local water agency with concern for the outcome.

 

The water district told me that it was the responsibility of the city to deal with the issue.  City workers were pointing fingers back at the water district for not providing updated water contamination reports.

All the while, the water level continued to drop and more fish were dying.  It wasn’t beginning to smell so swell downwind of the pond either.

It seemed to me that the draining needed to be stopped, and fresh water allowed to flow from the canal back into the pond in order to restore the needed balance.

Sam and I huddled briefly before approaching both city workers, as well as a representative from the water district. They stood by the pond, passively watching the water continue to flow out.  They all claimed to be middle men just following orders to drain the pond entirely.

We laid out our argument as to the folly of what they were doing, and demanded to know who they reported to respectively.  Names of supervisors, along with phone numbers for both the city and water district were eventually given to us, as it was apparent to all that we were not going to leave.

Sam, a true community organizer, got through to both fellows in charge and laid out our concerns.  He let both the city and water district know that we were prepared to go to the press immediately, with lots of photos in hand, and demand an explanation as to the inability of the two entities to work out their differences and avoid a very nasty ecological disaster.  No one, Sam assured them, wanted to see hundreds of dead fish and turtles in either the Times, Register or on social media, when it was all so unnecessary.

Within an hour, phones calls and private Face book messages from both the city and the water district were returned, assuring us that the pumping had been ordered to stop and that fresh water would be allowed to flow back into the reservoir.  By early afternoon, both things happened.  I called Sam with the good news that the pond was filling up once again.

Who says you can’t fight city hall – or a powerful water district for that matter?