
Ellen Silbergeld
Joshua Schwartz
Julie Gabrielli
Toby Garver, Julie's son
Julie Gabrielli, architect and founder of Gabrielli Design Studio, is partnering with multimedia artist Joshua Schwartz and professor in the environmental health department of the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health Ellen Silbergeld.
photo by La Kaye Mbah
Can the $940 million that is currently being spent to update the city's aging wastewater infrastructure be leveraged into a range of innovative, design-sensitive, community-centered economic opportunities?
People fish in Baltimore for the same reasons they do anywhere. As both recreation and cultural tradition, fishing connects people with nature. Unfortunately, Baltimore's serene waterways also host dangerous contaminants.
As the four great streams-Gwynn's Falls, Herring Run, Middle Branch, and the Jones Falls-pass through Baltimore, they become rivers of pathogens, carrying a multitude of viruses, bacteria, and other microorganisms that cause disease. Researchers at Johns Hopkins have found high risks of exposure to pathogens from handling fish caught in these waters, as well as Back River.
Since the beginnings of the modern sanitary movement in the 1850s, we have used water to remove our human wastes. This decision was based on an incomplete understanding of the intricacies of urban ecology and public health. It was made when many streams and rivers were little more than open sewers, and when fresh water was assumed to be inexhaustible.
The devastating destruction of the Great Fire of 1904 presented an opportunity to rethink the urban infrastructure, which led to the formation of the 1905 Sewerage Commission and the construction of a world-renowned, state-of-the-art, integrated sanitary system. The city dedicated itself to spending nearly $3 billion (in today’s dollars) to create a magnificent support system for a confident, growing metropolis. This system served us well and, over the years, met the demand for better water treatment and waste-management methods. What it could not overcome was a century of neglect, disastrously overloaded wastewater treatment plants, and a dilapidated network of aging sewer and stormwater lines.
In 2002, the city was legally bound by the EPA to spend almost $1 billion by 2016 on system renovations to prevent sewage overflows into our streams. This is a tremendous opportunity to look beyond the obvious answers and begin asking a new set of questions.
We propose to establish the "2008 Committee," in the tradition of the 1905 Sewerage Commission. Intelligent and creative people both in Baltimore and worldwide are already thinking about aspects of the problem—the 2008 Committee could invite these artists, environmental engineers, watershed organizers, public works officials, city leaders, ecologists, landscape architects, etc., to mold a new direction from their important, unique perspectives, adding their pieces of the puzzle.
We challenge this group to apply the same daring and open-mindedness as the 1905 Baltimore Sewerage Commission. A century ago, these visionaries adopted the best practices of urban ecology and environmental engineering to design an innovative and resilient system that included lasting monuments of civic architecture, such as the Jones Falls pumping station and the many reservoirs in our city. We should do no less.
It should be safe to engage with our rivers and streams. The idea of swimming across the Back River or kayaking on the Jones Falls should not provoke horror. And fishing should not require disinfectants. This is where we started our project: fishing alongside children, retired bus drivers, and families who simply enjoy the water.