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Pipe Dream: Megasite Sewer Line into the Mississippi River Causes Strife

Only human waste and sludge stand between the Memphis Regional Megasite (MRM) in Haywood County and a possible economic development grand slam nearly two decades in the making.

Really. That’s it. At least, that’s the story according to Bob Rolfe, Tennessee’s Commissioner of Economic and Community Development (ECD). “The greatest challenge to the Memphis Regional Megasite is the lack of a wastewater discharge plan,” Rolfe told a committee of state lawmakers last year. “That is the pacing item. That is what all the site consultants tell us.”

But Rolfe has a two-pronged plan to fix that problem.

The first part: He has to get a permit. If the Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation (TDEC) gives it to him, Rolfe will be able to build a 35-mile pipeline that will carry human waste and industrial waste from the site in Haywood County to the Mississippi River.

Bob Rolfe

The second part: He has to acquire land. Rolfe calls them “easements across land,” meaning, he needs to run that pipeline across property belonging to private land owners. Many along the path have already accepted money from the state to allow it to dig up their land and run an 18-inch pipeline three feet below the surface.

But some land-owners say they won’t take the money; they don’t want a sewage line running through their property. To deal with those folks, Rolfe has teamed up with Tennessee Attorney General Herbert Slatery to take their land by eminent domain. And Rolfe assured those lawmakers that Slatery has “developed a very good game plan.” Get the permit. Get the land. Bada-boom. Bada-bing. A brighter economic future for West Tennessee. 

“This project would be a game-changer for West Tennessee, every county in West Tennessee,” state Senator Ed Jackson (R-Jackson) told the committee last year. “It’s so important that we get this thing, and get it right.”

We still don’t have the thing Jackson was talking about. Not yet. The long, windy road to the MRM’s success now leads to the end of that pipeline, puking waste and sludge into the Mississippi at a rate of up to 3.5 million gallons per day. If that sounds gross, remember: Folks pushing this project hope it happens really soon — the sooner the better.

The goal of the ongoing megasite saga — employing Tennesseans and bringing economic benefits to the area — still lies at least three years away, ECD officials said recently. The series is a slow burn. But important episodes in that series are happening right now.

Since the beginning of the process, much of the cast has changed — including three governors, four ECD Commissioners, and hosts of state lawmakers — but much of the rebellion remains. Environmentalists, Haywood County residents and land owners, and free-market advocates have pressed back against the whole project, the sewage line, and the eminent domain process, some of them for more than a decade, and they’re still on the show.           

But the primary tension remains: Should we continue to pour taxpayer money ($143 million appropriated, $87 million spent, and $80 million more needed) into a project that offers no guarantee of financial return? And secondarily: What are the environmental impacts of the megasite to West Tennessee if the megasite dream is realized?  

Since you wouldn’t start watching Game of Thrones on season three, let’s go back to Memphis Regional Megasite season one to catch you up. 

Previously on Megasite

Then-Governor Phil Bredesen birthed the megasite in 2006, when it was pitched as a center for solar panel production. In 2009, state officials purchased the six square-mile plot for $40 million. At the time, similar megasite deals had brought Volkswagen to Chattanooga (East Tennessee) and Hemlock Semiconductor (Middle Tennessee) to Clarksville in billion-dollar deals. State officials had not brought anything even remotely as big to West Tennessee. 

In 2009, Bredesen said he wanted to take federal stimulus funding and build a $30 million solar farm on the megasite plot, again in hopes of making Tennessee a hot-bed of the solar industry. Haywood County Mayor Franklin Smith told WMC Channel 5 at the time that, with the solar farm, “the governor is making a statement that he’s serious about helping West Tennessee by developing our megasite.” 

The solar farm opened in 2012. It now produces enough energy to power 500 homes for a year. 

Governor Bill Haslam was elected in 2011. By 2014, he asked for and was awarded $27 million to reroute State Highway 222 from the site and connect it to the interstate. Haslam said the site would need a total of $150 million in taxpayer investment before it could attract a major automaker to the site.  

At the time, the Haslam adminstration was also fighting with environmentalists on a plan to dump megasite wastewater into the Hatchie River, considered one of the state’s most pristine waterways. Haslam lost that fight. 

In 2015, the Haslam administration launched a new marketing campaign for the megasite. Later that year, Haslam’s ECD Commissioner Randy Boyd fretted to Nashville Public Radio’s Chas Sisk that the site’s massive size may be standing in its own way. 

“Nissan, Volkswagen, Hankook, and Boeing could all fit on half that space,” Boyd told WPLN. “There was a time when people thought we could put one factory in 4,100 acres. But as it turns out today, there’s nobody that needs 4,100 acres.”

Boyd’s idea was to possibly split up the site, making it more attractive for smaller manufacturers and reducing the need to pump out so much wastewater. 

By 2016, environmentalists had beaten a plan to dump the site’s wastewater into the Forked Deer River. Haslam said his team was slowly building the infrastructure needed to lure an investor to the site. His team was also exploring ways to dump that wastewater into the Mississippi River. That year, Haslam and Boyd headed to Asia on a 10-day trip to meet with manufacturers about the megasite but came home empty-handed. 

Megasite dreams were dealt another blow in 2017, when Toyota and Mazda picked a megasite in Huntsville, Alabama, for a $1.6 billion plant. That facility employs 4,000 and makes an estimated 300,000 cars each year. 

Rolfe, then the state’s new ECD commissioner, said the MRM was passed over because it was not “shovel ready.” But that wasn’t the first prospect to pass on Haywood County. 

“Last year [2017], we had a candidate for large, international project of about 1,100 jobs and  $800 million in investment,” Rolfe told lawmakers in 2018. “The major reason they decided to build in an adjacent state was that their megasite was further along with infrastructure — closer to shovel ready — with a lower cost of development.”

Rolfe said another prospect in 2016 would have brought 1,000 jobs and $450 million in investment. They built in an adjacent state because of that state’s tax structure, Rolfe said. Later in 2017, Rolfe said he would ask state lawmakers for an additional $72 million to make the site “shovel ready.” He kept his promise but later upped the total to $80 million. 

That year, 2018, was a gubernatorial election year, and the megasite was a hot topic. Then-candidate Boyd said the site was already shovel ready and proposed doubling down on it. Almost every candidate — Boyd, Craig Fitzhugh, Karl Dean, Beth Harwell, and Bill Lee — told The Jackson Sun the megasite was a good project and they’d push to make it happen. Only Diane Black proposed something different. She said she wanted the 4,100 acres to be part of an agricultural hub, one that would work with the University of Tennessee in a new Agricultural Research Center.

As he left office earlier this year, Haslam told The Daily Memphian that not landing a tenant for the megasite was one of the biggest disappointments in his eight-year term. But he also kept high hopes for the megasite’s future. In that story, Haslam said the site is a big one, designed for the “big catch.”

New Governor Bill Lee told The Daily Memphian in January that he was committed to finishing the project. Later that month, Rolfe told The Daily Memphian that the project wasn’t finished but that the Lee adminstration would not seek any new money for the megasite unless they landed a tenant. 

To date, $143 million has been given to the megasite project. As of October 2018, $87 million had been spent on it. While some lawmakers seemed surprised at the figure, Rolfe said $220 million has been the “consistent” number always needed to “have this campus shovel ready.”

At that joint committee of lawmakers last year, then-state-Senator (now U.S. Congressman) Mark Greene asked about ROI — return on investment. How many jobs, he asked Rolfe, would it take for the state to break even if lawmakers gave the project another $80 million? He didn’t get a direct answer from Rolfe at the time but did his own math, instead. 

“If I look at an average income [of workers at the site] as $60,000 and workers spend money on things we get sales tax from,” Greene began, “it comes out to be that 5,000 jobs are necessary to get us a 20-year payout.”

By Greene’s math, the hit from the megasite wouldn’t need to just be a home run. It’d need to be an economic grand slam in the state, surpassing Volkswagen and weathering 20 years of economic booms and busts before Tennessee taxpayers ever made back their first nickel.

Competition?

Many of those interviewed for this story worried that focus on the megasite for all of these years has left neglected existing-yet-abandoned manufacturing sites such as the International Harvester plant or the Firestone plant in Memphis.   

“One adminstration after another is saying, ‘This is what we’re going to do for West Tennessee,'” said Nick Crafton, who owns land in Haywood County close to the megasite. “But it’s sucking all the oxygen out of every other project across the region. 

“Now, they’re talking about busting up [the megasite] and that’ll be in direct competition with the local industrial parks that these companies might otherwise be looking at.”

However, the Greater Memphis Chamber said it is “100 percent supportive” of the continued development of the megasite. Shelby County has a “serious lack of ‘development ready’ sites to begin with. Further, given the megasite’s size, it is not competition with other sites here. It’s in competition with other ‘sites of its ilk across the Southeast.'”

All of this is according to Eric Miller, the Chamber senior vice president of economic development, and a Haslam-appointed member of the Memphis Regional Megasite Authority Board. 

“Our efforts as a region and state should be to make that site the premier available site in its category to help our region compete for much-needed tax dollars from new investment and jobs,” Miller said.  

Plans for the proposed Memphis Regional Megasite pipeline

Down by the Water

The Mississippi River sloshes gently against a concrete boat ramp. The ramp angles into the muddy water from a wide, flat spot called Duvall Landing in Tipton County, about 45 minutes north of Memphis. A mud-splattered truck with a boat trailer sits in the chilly breeze, the only tenant of a parking lot big enough to swallow an airplane hangar. The lot is covered by a half-inch of mud, and a look at the detritus on the bank makes it clear that the river crested and receded here not long ago. 

A kayak-and-canoe blog called RiverGator (www.rivergator.org) says the parking lot is a “notorious hell-raising party place amongst locals.” The description matched the evidence of discarded Bud Lite bottles, spent shotgun shells, and lighters that littered the ground, and an enormous bonfire circle.

Just north of that scene, state officials hope to snake a wastewater pipeline the width of a large pizza (18 inches) out into the main channel of the Mississippi. If the stars align, and they win that large manufacturer to the megasite 35 miles away, that pipe could send up to 3.5 million gallons a day of human feces and industrial waste into the river.

Party at Duvall Landing with the pipe going full blast, and you could clock about 145,800 gallons of shit and sludge sliding right by your bonfire every hour.

“People out here have to actually get in the water to launch their boats,” said Jo Cris Blair, administrator of the Say No to the Richardson Landing Poopline group. “Will they get sick? We have no way of knowing. Will the fish start glowing in the dark? We have no way of knowing.”

But Blair said the wastewater will destroy farmland, settling into soils after floods. It’ll also impact the local wildlife — fish, birds, and deer — and “it will really hurt the fishing and boating community.”

The Pipe and the River

Blair said the Environmental Protection Agency and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers are turning a “blind eye to the situation.” As for politicos, only Millington Chamber of Commerce executive director Terry Roland and state Representative Debra Moody (R-Covington) have shown any concern for it.

Another spot — about a mile north of Duvall Landing — was the original site for the pipeline’s outfall. But it was moved due to the concerns of locals who felt the waste would harm the environment. 

Blair said she thinks the new Tipton County spot was picked because Memphis can’t take any more waste and Shelby Forest is protected.

Rolfe told lawmakers that TDEC helped his office pinpoint the new location and suggested they run it into the “deep channel” of the river. Standing at Duvall Landing, the Arkansas side of the river seems a mile away. Each second you stand there, more than 8.5 million gallons of muddy water slides by. If the pipeline was running at full capacity — up to that 3.5 million gallons per day — it would add an average of 40 gallons of sewage from the megasite each second. 

Feed the phrase “dilution is the pollution solution” into Google, and you’ll find environmental groups telling you that it is not. There’s a loophole in the federal Clean Water Act that allows for dumping waste into certain bodies of water if they can provide specific “mixing channels.” Deep water with lots of volume can dilute the pollution and limit its effects; that’s the idea. 

Does it work? It’s hard to say with the Mississippi. It’s so wild and so big that it’s been tough to make and maintain a water-quality tracking system. 

In a previous story on this topic, Renee Hoyos, the executive director of the Tennessee Clean Water Network (TCWN), said that the river drains one third of the United States and has “been used as the nation’s toilet.” It was her sense that “by the time [the river water] gets to Memphis, it is in pretty bad shape.”

In 2017, she told the Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) Office of Water that the TCWN and nine other agencies like it had formed the Mississippi River Collaborative to track and fight pollution in the river. 

“Right now, states in the Mississippi River basin pollute the river with so much nitrogen and phosphorus, that beaches are regularly closed, dogs are dying, and drinking water is under constant threat. We want a numeric standard for [nutrient pollution] nationwide. EPA has battled this problem for decades to no avail.”

The beaches Hoyos mentioned are likely those along the “dead zone” in the Gulf of Mexico. Pollution in Mississippi River water plumes out when it hits the gulf. The pollution helps algae grow. That algae sucks the oxygen out of the water and kills everything living there. In 2017, the dead zone was the size of New Jersey. It’s forecast to be larger this year, thanks to heavy rains. 

What’s in a River?

The Mississippi River water at Memphis is already polluted. It contains chlordane, a now-banned pesticide, that — taken in high doses — “can cause convulsions and death,” according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. It also contains polychlorinated biphenyls (or PCBs), a now-banned substance used to make capacitors, adhesives, floor finish, and more. Doses of PCBs can cause cancer and much more, according to the EPA.

As for human waste, the megasite actually has to have it. Crafton, a chemical engineer, explains that human waste naturally treats industrial waste. But Crafton says the only human waste so far is coming from the city of Stanton. It’s only 452 people, he says, not enough to treat the volume of waste from the proposed megasite. But the concern doesn’t just lie at the end of the pipeline. From end to end, the pipeline will cross rivers and streams 54 times, according to TDEC, and they could all be affected by pollution, should the pipe burst or leak. 

It’s still unknown exactly what kind of pollution the megasite pipeline would add to the Mississippi River. That’s because no one knows what kind of company will eventually be on the site or what kind of manufacturing will take place there. Blair said ECD’s application does include heavy metals and “an unknown amount of hexavalent chromium.” If that sounds weirdly familiar, the same compound was the center of the Erin Brockovich case. 

“We know what this particular contaminate can do to people,” Blair says. “And for them to literally say ‘an untold amount’ is beyond terrifying.”

Residents along the proposed pipeline are fighting back. Motions are ongoing in a lawsuit led by attorney Jeff Ward against TDEC. Ward is working pro bono, but the group has a GoFundMe page to help pay for other legal expenses. 

The Next Step

The next episode in the megasite saga is a public hearing set for Thursday, April 25th, at Dyersburg Community College. TDEC’s early opinion of the pipeline is that it will “result in no more than de minimis [meaning trivial, or minor] degradation to water quality.” But the division will take public comments into account and the final decision will come down to “the lost value of the resource compared to the value of any proposed mitigation.”

Should TDEC grant Rolfe and his team the pipeline permit, he’s told lawmakers he’ll begin the process of taking lands (easements) from those who don’t want to sell. The process is expected to wrap up in six to nine months. If they get all those, pipeline construction can begin and is expected to take 18 to 24 months to complete.

“In the meantime, if [ECD] successfully recruits a company to the megasite, construction of the tenant’s facility on site can occur parallel to the wastewater pipeline buildout,” reads a statement from Rolfe’s office. “Under such a scenario, we could have a tenant open and operating on the Megasite within three years.”

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The Water City

Water defines Memphis.

Without the Mississippi River, the city would not exist at all. Its bones are formed as Nonconnah Creek and the Wolf River shape the I-240 loop. The massive Memphis Sand Aquifer below the city promises a future when so many communities face historic uncertainty.

“We are a water city,” said Joe Royer, who owns Outdoors, Inc. and can frequently be seen paddling kayaks up and down the Mississippi River. “When it snows in Yellowstone [National Park], it flows by Tom Lee Park. When you’re watching Monday Night Football and it’s sleeting in Pittsburgh, it’ll come through Memphis.”

But much of the city’s waters face threats, old and new. And a cadre of locals is organizing to fight them.

The Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) awaits testing results before it can pump 3.5 million gallons of Memphis water per day from the Memphis Sand Aquifer, the source of the city’s drinking water, to cool its new energy plant on President’s Island.

Citizens north of Memphis await word from state agencies to see if a site near their homes will host a pipeline that will dump 3.5 million gallons of wastewater every day into the Mississippi River.

And city officials in Memphis continue, under a federal mandate, to fix a broken wastewater system that has dumped hundreds of millions of gallons of raw sewage into local waterways.

TVA and the Memphis Sand Aquifer

Raise the 57 trillion gallons of water from the Memphis Sand Aquifer to the surface, and it would flood all of Shelby County to the top of Clark Tower. This fact arises in almost every discussion of whether or not TVA should use Memphis drinking water to cool its new, natural-gas-fed Allen Combined Cycle Plant.

It’s a lot of water, which scores a point for TVA in discussions. And TVA’s proposed water draw wouldn’t be the biggest. (A local DuPont chemical plant sucks up 15 million gallons of aquifer water every day, according to local water experts.) But it’s not just any water.

Called “the sweetest in the world,” Memphis drinking water begins as rain in Fayette County and filters through acres of sand as it glugs slowly westward to Memphis. How slowly? The aquifer water under downtown Memphis fell from the sky about 2,000 to 3,000 years ago, according to Brian Waldron, director of the Center for Applied Earth Science and Engineering Research (CAESER) in the Herff College of Engineering at the University of Memphis. So, that water got its start very roughly between the time Homer wrote the Illiad and the Odyssey and the birth of Jesus of Nazareth.

That fact scores a point for local environmentalists who say the resource is rare, maybe priceless.

“It can be argued that 3.5 [million gallons of water per day] is a drop in the bucket, but we must never forget that our resource is finite and that individually we can be good stewards of our groundwater,” Waldron wrote in an opinion piece for The Commercial Appeal.

Volume, though, has rarely been the main bone of contention in the many arguments that have roiled the aquifer debate since it really got started in 2016. Environmental groups and others are more worried that the TVA’s five 650-foot wells could draw toxins into all that “sweet” water.

That argument gained new ground this summer when TVA discovered arsenic levels in some wells around the energy plant were more than 300 times higher than federal drinking water standards. Lead and fluoride levels there were also higher than federal safety standards. The contaminated water sits under a pond that stores coal ash, the remnants of the coal TVA now burns for power at the Allen Fossil Plant. That pond is a quarter mile from those five wells drilled into the Memphis Sand Aquifer.

“We believe our public drinking water is our most valuable asset,” Ward Archer, founder of Protect Our Aquifer (POA), said during a water policy meeting last month. “If you really, really, really, think about it — and especially going forward — [water is] everything, and we have it in spades. But we have a lot of contamination threats.”

Archer formed POA mainly as a Facebook group in 2016 to spread the word about TVA’s plans to tap the aquifer. He formally registered the group later so it could have legal standing to join a lawsuit with the local arm of the Sierra Club to stop TVA’s well permits last year.

Scott Banbury, the Sierra Club’s Tennessee Conservation Programs Coordinator, said his core argument against the TVA wells gets down to money versus people.

“[Memphis-area customers] send $1 billion a year to TVA for our power,” Banbury said. “For them to not use wells that might compromise our drinking water would only cost $6 million. There are 9 million people in TVA-land that are required by federal law to pay the price for anything that TVA does.

“How does that math add up?” he continues. “I think it comes out to about 65 cents per year per person to make sure that we’re not messing up Memphis’ water. Sixty-five cents per person per year and you can do the right thing, the good thing.”

But TVA is required by the TVA Act (the federal law that created the organization) to provide power “at the lowest feasible price for all consumers in the Tennessee Valley,” according to an excerpt from an August TVA document called “Key Messages.”

TVA officials said in the document that its original plan (to use wastewater to cool the plant) would have required it to clean the water, adding an additional $9 million to $23 million annual cost to customers. They also looked to use water from McKellar Lake and the Mississippi Alluvial Aquifer. But all of these options, TVA said, would have added costs and risked the reliability of the new plant.

“TVA is moving forward with the best option for consumers in a responsible manner that will be respectful of the Memphis Sand Aquifer and surrounding environment,” reads the document.

Memphis Light, Gas & Water did not find elevated levels of toxins in drinking water wells close to the TVA site last year. After that, TVA ran its five wells for 24 hours, but test results are not back yet.

In response to the discovery of toxins, TVA launched a deeper investigation into the safety of its five wells in late August, contracting with experts from the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) and the University of Memphis to map the underlying geology around the site to better understand the movement of the groundwater (and possible toxins) there. The day after that announcement, state officials said they had a good faith agreement with TVA that it wouldn’t use the wells until after the investigation was complete.

“As a state agency, we need very convincing evidence that the contamination in the upper aquifer does not seep into the lower levels,” Chuck Head, assistant commissioner of the Tennessee Department of Environment and Conservation (TDEC), said at the time.

That investigation was originally projected to take months to complete. But when the plan for that investigation came out in mid-September, USGS and the U of M researchers said they didn’t have enough time to gather enough data to make a clear judgment call on TVA’s wells by the time the agency planned to fire up the plant in December 2017.

“We have committed not to use the aquifer wells until testing shows it is safe to do so,” said TVA spokesman Scott Brooks last week. “We aren’t there yet. However, construction continues on the new gas plant, which is more than 90 percent complete. Our goal is still to have this cleaner generation online by the summer of 2018.”

More help may be on the way for the Memphis Sand Aquifer. Last week, MLGW and Memphis Mayor Jim Strickland proposed a water rate increase that would yield about $1 million each year for aquifer research. About 18 cents would be added to each MLGW water meter each month for the research, to ensure our source of drinking water remains pure and is protected from potential contaminants,” reads the prosper resolution.

The River and the “Poopline”

Bottleneck blues played softly as John Duda’s paint-splotched hands worked on a single glimmer of Mississippi River moonlight. Hours of painting inches in front of a massive canvas yielded a scene of a riverboat chugging slowly toward Memphis, leaving a trail of ripples and sparkles.

Duda’s house in Randolph, about an hour north of Memphis, is filled with his work, mostly scenes of Memphis, the riverfront, and Beale Street. But his finest work may be the view from his back deck.

After he bought the house about 11 years ago, he worked for years to clear kudzu and undergrowth from his spot on the Second Chickasaw Bluff to reveal an expansive view of the Mississippi River, the bluff, and bottom lands beyond. Duda’s view belongs on postcards, but it’s in peril. He shies away from attention, but his fight against that peril has brought him into the spotlight.

From his deck, he pointed to the exact site an 18-inch pipeline that could deliver 3.5 million gallons of industrial waste and treated sewer water into the Mississippi River right below his house.

“It won’t be good,” Duda said. “I understand it’s got to go somewhere and it meets the [Environmental Protection Agency] guidelines. But to put it at the head of a town that’s been here since 1830 or before then is kind of a slap in the face to the people who live here, and the people who visit here, and recreate here.”

Earlier this year, a state plan emerged that would run a pipeline 37 miles from the Memphis Regional Megasite in Haywood County to that spot into the Mississippi below Duda’s house. The pipeline would cross at least 30 bodies of water and carry an estimated 3 million gallons of industrial wastewater from the megasite every day. The pipeline would also carry about 500,000 gallons of treated sewage from the city of Stanton, Tennessee.

State economic development officials have worked for years to prep the 4,100-acre site with $143 million in infrastructure improvements in hopes of luring a large manufacturer to the state. While Toyota-Mazda recently passed on the site, state officials promise prospective clients “the best of everything you need,” including “the best partner, the best location, and the strongest workforce.” Last week, The Jackson Sun reported that state officials said the site needs an additional $72 million to complete work there.

The idea is “terrible, terrible, terrible,” “crappy,” or, simply, “the worst,” according to Renée Hoyos, executive director of the Knoxville-based Tennessee Clean Water Network (TCWN).

“The whole [megasite project] has just gone down this road where I think people are just like, ‘well, we’ve gone this far, how about this idea?'” Hoyos said in a recent interview. “And the ideas are just getting dumber and dumber. They’ve spent all this money, and still no one is coming. It’s not, ‘build it and they will come.’ They’re not coming. So, don’t build.”

Justin Owen, CEO of the Nashville-based Beacon Center, a free-market think tank, recently called the megasite project a “boondoggle” and said that its failure so far was “legendary.”

“And the state now has to run a sewage pipe from the site to the Mississippi River, costing more money and seizing homeowners’ property along the way via eminent domain,” Owen wrote in an opinion piece in The Jackson Sun. “All for a company that is only real in the imaginations of politicians and bureaucrats in Nashville.”

Backlash to the Randolph pipeline solution began this summer. Dozens showed up to oppose the project at TDEC meetings close to the site. A Facebook group called “Say No to the Randolph Poopline (Toxic Sludge)” was organized and quickly grew. But, again, volume is not the main bone of contention in the “poopline” argument with most. It is the location.

At the exact site of the proposed wastewater pipe, sandy beaches appear on the banks of the Mississippi during its regular flow. Duda said people come from near and far to camp at the site, launch kayaks, ride horses, and sit around bonfires. During a recent visit, beer cans, clay pigeons, spent shotgun shells, and ATV tracks evidenced some other, recent recreation.

The site seemed to be picked because it’s close to the where the Mississippi meets the Hatchie River. Flows from the two would help dilute the treated wastewater and send it downstream. Duda said that plan might work when the water was high. But at low levels, an area between the Tennessee side of the river and a mid-stream island gets cut off.

“All of a sudden all of this water gets cut off, and that means 3.5 million gallons [of wastewater] will just be sitting in two, or three, or four pools down through here,” Duda said. “When it’s not mixing, they become cesspools, essentially. Whenever you go by any treatment plant cesspool area, what have they got around it? A chainlink fence with barbed wire to keep people out.”

Duda also feared the pipeline would drive away local wildlife — geese, bald eagles, deer, and more. Years of exposure to the heavy metals in the wastewater would eventually obliterate the spot for human recreation and for the miles of fertile bottomland farms around it for growing corn, soybeans, or cotton.

Environmental dangers loom beyond the spot, too, back along the 37 miles of pipeline that run from the proposed factory and the 30 bodies of water it would cross, said Hoyos.

“That pipe will be under pressure, so you may only notice a problem if it’s a big break,” she said. “But little leaks? You may not notice them. There may be a pollution event that goes on for months and months and months and you may not be able to see them.”

The crowds at the meetings, the Facebook group, and the calls to state lawmakers all delayed a decision on the proposed pipeline last month. It was enough to earn a 30-day extension for public comment on the project. One of those voices for the delay was Shelby County Commissioner Terry Roland.

“This type of discharge will certainly negatively affect the commercial and recreational fishing near Shelby Forest, not to mention the wildlife, to include 43 species on the federal endangered list, popular swimming beaches, boating camping, etc.,” Roland said in a statement at the time.

Justin Fox Burks

Memphis Sewers and The Waters Around Them

The feds have long been after Memphis city officials about its wastewater.

Back about 40 years or so, they forced city officials to treat it before they dumped it into the Mississippi River. Since 2012, the federal agencies have required the city to spend about $250 million over several years to fix and upgrade its weak, leaky wastewater system so the city doesn’t spill untreated sewage into the river (which we have, still, a lot). The city now operates under a consent decree for the improvements agreed to by the TCWN, U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, the U.S. Department of Justice, TDEC, and the Office of the Tennessee Attorney General.

In 2010, federal and state agencies filed a formal complaint against the city alleging that “on numerous occasions since 2003” the city illegally spilled untreated sewage into state and federal waters. City officials “failed to properly operate and maintain [its wastewater] facilities” and allowed “visible, floating scum, oil, or other matter contained in the wastewater discharge,” into surrounding waters.

For this, the city paid a civil penalty of about $1.3 million to resolve the violation of the Clean Water Act. It also had to devise a plan to beef up its wastewater system and promise vigilance on clean water issues going forward. But vigilance doesn’t guarantee perfection.

In March and April of 2016, for example, two sewer pipes broke. Both were associated with the T.E. Maxson Waste Water Treatment Plant on President’s Island. One was eight feet tall and another five feet tall. When they broke, they dumped more than 350 million gallons of untreated wastewater into Cypress Creek and McKellar Lake. (For perspective, the damaged Deepwater Horizon well spilled 210 million gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico in 2010.) The spill killed 72,000 fish, spiked levels of E. coli bacteria in the waterways, and left behind layers of sludge.

Justin Fox Burks

John Duda’s house north of Memphis has a great view from the Second Chickasaw Bluff.

Later that year, a three-and-a-half-foot sewer pipe broke close to the M.C. Stiles Waste Water Treatment Plant north of Mud Island. Two-and-a-half million gallons of raw sewage dumped into the Loosahatchie River every day for three days.

In all of the spills, the dirt banks around the pipes had eroded and the pipes broke under their own weight. Correspondence from Memphis leaders show plans are in place to fix those pipes permanently. But Hoyos, with the Tennessee Clean Water Network, said spills like these are “not surprising.”

“You’re going to see [sewage] overflows because, as you’re tightening up a system in certain places, it really accentuates the weaknesses in other sections,” she said.

In a March 2017 letter to Memphis Mayor Jim Strickland, an official with TDEC’s Division of Water Resources said that the city would not only fix the pipes, stabilize its banks, and closely monitor all of them, the city must pay the state damages for the 2016 spills. Those damages were figured at $359,855.98 “for ecological and recreational damage to Cypress Creek and McKellar Lake, excluding damages for fish killed as a direct result of the spill.”

Justin Fox Burks

City of Memphis Public Works Director Robert Knecht said the city is negotiating the terms of that agreement with the state. He said his agency doesn’t like raw sewage spills, of course, but that the city is responsible for 3,200 miles of sewer lines, with 2,800 of those miles of pipes within the city limits. From them, the city’s two wastewater plants process about 60 billion gallons of wastewater each year.

Capital improvements needed for the city’s sewer system, he said, range from $850 million to $1.2 billion. While the consent decree mandated the city spend $250 million, Knecht said it’ll end up spending about $350 million simply because officials discovered about 25 percent more sewer infrastructure after the decree was signed.

The Water City

Many interviewed for this story said they would not swim in the Mississippi River, especially south of the Stiles Waste Water plant. TDEC advises that no one eat fish from the river. Hoyos said that the river drains one third of the United States and has “been used as the nation’s toilet.”

“By the time it gets to Memphis, [the river] is in pretty bad shape,” she said.

All that water, of course, drains into the Gulf of Mexico near New Orleans. There, a “dead zone” bloomed this year the size of New Jersey, the largest on record. For more on this, check out a story in this week’s Fly By, page 6.

Still, given all the perils to the city’s water and waterways, Royer of Outdoors, Inc. believes in Memphis as a “water city” and that its natural resources will be key to its future, and not just for outdoorsy types. Digital technology has given most the ability to work almost anywhere and that puts Memphis in a “real competitive environment” for workers.

“And if the salary is even close, they’ll choose to go to the most livable city,” he said.