10 Surprises from the River Inside the Airport
Each year, I’m overwhelmed by the dedication of our community and the growth of our “Finding the Flint” Earth Day clean-up. What started with a dozen people in 2018 has snowballed into our biggest volunteer event of the year, drawing over 100 employees from the world’s busiest airport out to experience and improve the Flint River.
Just like any river clean up, it’s a bit of a treasure hunt. We could make a bingo card out of our most frequent finds: face masks, beer cans, plastic bottles, dumped tires. While groups like The Conservation Fund are working to protect land in the Flint headwaters, most of the river cuts through privately owned land. It starts just north of Hartsfield-Jackson’s sprawling 4,700-acre campus and flows through miles of concrete pipes. Due to the Flint’s proximity to the airport, we typically recover some very airline-specific trash like earplugs, hotel keys and luggage tags from around the world. The curiosity of visiting a river inside the airport always brings out a lot of volunteers, but even when you’ve been there a few times, there are always surprises on every visit.
Here are my top 10 surprises from our 2023 Earth Day cleanup “inside the fence” at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.
10. The Flint River itself.
We met just south of I-285 in a 20-acre parking lot that’s owned by the Department of Aviation. Volunteers have to pass through a security checkpoint and then walk downhill to the hidden river. The Flint River winds around the barbed wire perimeter of the site, completely out of sight and off limits, a kind of unintentional nature preserve. This obscure pocket of greenspace east of the 5th runway is where the river emerges from under the runways and makes its way south, flowing freely 340 miles to the Florida state line. This year, I overheard a Deputy General Manager’s astonished comments when she saw the Flint for the first time. The water is surprisingly clear, the banks cool and green. Even those of us who have been behind the padlocked security fence a dozen times find the river’s beauty and resilience astonishing.
9. Peace.
I can’t say that you find peace and quiet back here, but it is definitely a serene scene. By late April, everything is bright green and blooming. After an hour of untangling litter from the tree roots and river cane, I saw volunteers relaxing on the cool boulders, quietly chatting. The soundscape back here nearly obscures the aircraft noise: rushing water, rustling leaves and birdsong.
8. Too ironic “Don’t Litter” trash.
This is not the first time I’ve found a corrugated plastic “Don’t be a Litterbug” sign in the Flint River. If they washed here all the way from East Point, that is a four-mile journey through the airport’s culverts. The first time I found one, it was funny. The second time was sad. Surely there are better ways to discourage litter than actively producing it?
7. Treasure.
At the start of our cleanup, ATL sustainability director Jeff Denno joked that he’d hidden a couple hundred-dollar bills along the riverbanks as an incentive for diligent pickers. This got a laugh. An hour later, I spotted Ben Franklin on the forest floor as we hiked upstream. The bill was muddy but new, and nearly torn in half. You would think this kind of prize is unlikely, but it’s not the first time I’ve found flyaway cash in the Flint. I found another soggy hundred on the riverbank last spring. I guess a lot of people travel with cash? Fun fact: you can return ripped, soiled currency to any bank and they will exchange it for a clean bill.
6. Ruins.
Over the years, we’ve found what looks like the remains of a moonshine still and the tumbled fences of long-lost farms and rural estates. Further downstream are the ruins of a bridge where Terrell Mill Road once crossed the Flint River. The bridge was damaged repeatedly by floods and eventually abandoned. While we made no major archeological discoveries this year, just the little patches of non-native daffodils and muscadine vines that are perennial evidence of the abandoned homesites swallowed up by airport expansion.
5. Urban Turtles.
In addition to green-black turtles (sliders) that plunk off their sunny log into the water when you get too close, we saw box turtles in the woods, and a spiny softshell turtle sunning at the culvert. I was surprised to see one of the largest freshwater turtle species in North America hanging out by the airport. I asked Ben Emanuel with American Rivers how turtles can survive and thrive in urban creeks with less-than-ideal water quality. He stated the obvious in a way I will remember: “Turtles can climb out of the water when the oxygen drops due to pollution or sediment. Fish can’t.” Also, they eat just about everything.
4. Big fish.
This year was the first time I saw large catfish and brim in the Flint. Once the volunteers finished up and the trash bags were loaded into the garbage truck, R.J. Gipaya with the Flint Riverkeeper carried his fly rod down to the water. It was kind of surreal to watch a fly fisherman casting in the middle of this river here. I wondered how many years it’s been since that happened. No bites. So far, R.J. has found no shoal bass this far north in the Flint River, but he keeps looking.
3. Endless tires.
After 6 years of clean ups in a supposedly inaccessible area, we thought the population of dumped tires would dwindle down to nothing. This year, we counted 21 tires on the river bottom and recovered about 15. Where do they come from? Are they embedded in the silty banks and uncovered by erosion? It’s like they emerge from the riverbed, as if they’re breeding down there.
2. Snake!
It’s no surprise to meet a snake by a river. It’s a surprise when it falls out of a tree onto the back of your neck. This happened to Captain Alejandro Garcia, with the Atlanta Fire & Rescue crew. He took it pretty well and was laughing by the time I heard about it. Garcia described the snake as brown with a yellow belly. Let’s hope it was a (harmless) plain-bellied water snake.
1. The volunteers.
The ones who show up in waders, ready to join the mermaid club. The ones who are totally fearful of snakes and ticks, but show up anyways, willing to get muddy. The guys from Delta who come year after year, who won’t quit until they pull the last tire from the river. The volunteers like me who grew up in Clayton County but never stepped into the Flint River. The VP from Delaware North who told me if he can give his team opportunities to bond and collaborate outside the office, to take part in a larger mission, then ultimately, he’ll see less turnover. Everything from airport executives to community service volunteers. And the ones who see it online and ask to come next year. Volunteers who show up early to “Find the Flint” and participate in small acts of restoration. The surprise is that we all leave feeling like we were the ones restored.