Watching the Floodwaters
Looking downstream from the Upper Riverdale Road bridge in the aftermath of Hurricane Sally.
It’s a muddy, soggy job, but somebody’s gotta do it.
Earlier this month, as Hurricane Sally chugged towards the Gulf Coast, the forecast for Metro Atlanta called for three to five inches of rain in one morning. That’s more than enough rain to trigger flash floods. More than enough for the Flint River to flood the bridge at Upper Riverdale Road, blocking traffic to Southern Regional Medical Center.
I set a reminder on my calendar to go shoot flood footage and we asked our social media followers to (cautiously) do the same. A commenter asked, “What is the purpose of collecting this data?”
Here’s a few reasons why we keep watch on the floodwaters…
The flooded corner of Garden Walk Boulevard and Upper Riverdale Road, with the hospital tower in the distance.
1. Rain reveals rivers.
When I arrived at the bridge at 10 am, the wetlands by the hospital looked like a lake, and the lake was lapping up onto the sidewalk. The rain had stopped, but the north lane of Upper Riverdale Road was still blocked with orange construction barrels as whitewater pounded the north side of the bridge. Later, I learned that the peak of the flood was six hours earlier, and the stream gauge measured a height two feet above the bridge.
Since we launched Finding the Flint, I have embraced my role as stormchaser. Rainy day footage is worth a thousand words when you’re trying to convince people that these headwaters are a bonafide segment of the Flint River, worthy of planning and protection.
Most days, the headwaters look like a trickle in East Point, but a storm transforms them into raging creeks. There’s not even a sign naming the Flint River on Upper Riverdale Road, but the river roams in the rain, marking its territory. We always need to keep the floodstage Flint in mind as we plan for a greener version of the airport area.
2. This is a pattern.
The blue Channel 2 news van rolled up on the bridge right after I arrived. Maybe the reporters covered the flooding here in August 2018, May 2017, and December 2015. They saw the same weather forecast I did and predicted “breaking news.”
Another set of professionals anticipates repeated floods—Clayton County Water Authority (CCWA) and Clayton County EMS. Three workers from CCWA’s sewer department were on the scene in their bright yellow vests and face masks, observing the same thing my 7-year old noticed right away—the tangy smell of raw sewage.
This bridge is regularly inundated following heavy rain. At Upper Riverdale Road, all the negative impacts of upstream development are compounded—litter, contamination, flooding— all affecting vulnerable residents who may be blocked from reaching school, work, or the nearest hospital ER.
A disaster that’s predictable, manmade, and decades in the making isn’t exactly an accident. It’s a pattern, and an urgent environmental justice issue as, once again, we see low-income people and communities of color disproportionately impacted by flooding and pollution. Images that document and highlight these injustices can be shared as part of educational materials, grant applications, and other presentations where advocates are working to advance equitable and integrated water management solutions.
“Having real life examples from various communities helps to highlight how widespread these issues are and brings attention to the challenges and solutions.”
3. Connecting across watersheds
For most folks, flooding looks like a brief flash on the local news, a temporary inconvenience, and a local problem. The day after I took these photos, the storm cleared and the city dried out with blue skies and some spectacular early fall sunshine. But residents in flood-prone areas all over Atlanta, from Peoplestown to Proctor Creek, recognize the pattern, remember the history, and understand the context of what’s built upstream.
My colleague Shannon Lee with The Conservation Fund’s Parks with Purpose initiative has been organizing watershed education programs in cities across the southeast where residents learn how to advocate for green infrastructure in urban neighborhoods plagued by flooding. “Having real life examples from various communities helps to highlight how widespread these issues are and brings attention to the challenges and solutions.”
Until we find an app for crowdsourcing flood data around Atlanta, raising awareness through flood photos on social media is our best attempt to help a wider audience connect the dots between #neighborhoodflooding and environmental justice in real time.
Draft concept for “Confluence Park” in north Clayton County, including the converted quarry and trails along the Flint River and Mud Creek.
4. Better infrastructure is possible.
Eventually, this bridge will be replaced. A new, elevated bridge is slated for construction in 2025. The upgrade is long overdue.
But a new bridge is not the only solution. Expanding traditional “gray infrastructure” is an expensive, local fix that addresses only one facet of the problem, kind of like like adding another lane to the highway. With the extreme weather brought on by climate change, we have to think big about building resilient infrastructure.
Flooding and drought are as my colleague Ben Emanuel says, “two sides of the same coin.” The same impervious surfaces that cause excessive runoff during wet weather also have deprived the river of its natural base flow during times of drought. A bigger bridge won’t help with drought conditions.
“Rainwater that has not been allowed to soak into the ground and feed the river’s tributary stream network—instead, rushing downstream quickly and in high volumes—is water that is unavailable to the river and its communities when drought arrives.”
Imagine what’s possible if we plan and design green infrastructure that restores the healthy function of the watershed. For example, imagine Vulcan Quarry converted to a reservoir. It could eliminate the threat of flooding downstream and open up new greenspace for parks and trails in areas that currently flood. Clayton County Water Authority has studied the possibility of a stormwater detention facility in the quarry, similar to what the City of Atlanta is constructing at Westside Park (formerly Bellwood Quarry). A portion of Mud Creek and the Flint River could be diverted into the quarry, storing up to 5.1 billion gallons of water for municipal water supply, flood mitigation, and protecting flows during drought.
Flood footage helps us make the case for the next generation of Georgians who rely on the Flint and southside residents who deserve to enjoy their river. Eventually, we’ll need these photos for the “before” and “after” pics, documenting the comeback of an endangered river.
