Nice & Curious Questions

Edwin S. Clay III and Patricia Bangs


 

Down the Drain or Waste Not, Want Not: Wastewater Treatment in Virginia

 

It’s been a problem for civilized societies since time began: What to do with the unwanted byproducts of daily life? The average Virginian, if he is like his fellow Americans, probably flushes somewhere between 66 and 192 gallons of used water, and everything in it, down various drains each day, according to the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality. (See VDEQ -- Wastewater Technology.)

 

The agency is tasked with overseeing the many facilities in the Commonwealth that clean pollutants and bacteria from these wastewaters before they re-enter the water cycle. In fact, more than 140 large municipal and industrial wastewater treatment plants and more than 1,000 minor treatment plants are regulated through the Virginia Pollutant Discharge Elimination System program, managed by VDEQ.

             

Wastewater treatment – that is, removing pollutants before dumping wastewater back into drinking water sources – is a relatively young phenomenon. It dates from the 1940s and 1950s. Prior to that, sanitary engineers concentrated on the reverse process -- filtering drinking water before it was piped into homes and businesses.

 

It is actually the advent of piped water that helped create the wastewater conundrum. Waterworks were built in most major cities in the early to mid-19th century. By 1860, 16 of the nation’s largest cities had water supply systems, according to a 2000 article in The Journal of Urban Technology (“Urban Wastewater Management in the United States: Past, Present, Future,” v. 7, no. 3). Prior to piped water, privies and cesspools stored waste. It was, in wastewater engineering jargon, a decentralized system, i.e. individuals were responsible for managing their household waste. With piped water, the use of water increased 10-fold and if it was piped in, it had to be piped out. The cesspools were quickly overwhelmed.

 

The first solutions backfired. Cesspools were connected to primitive open sewers, which often ran down the middle of streets. Because new-fangled plumbing, such as water closets, now brought water infested with human waste into the open sewers, epidemics, such as cholera, resulted. Piped water and open sewers were a bad mix. (See History of Sewers 101.)

 

Engineers fixed the problem by designing closed sewer systems that used water to carry away waste. Now they debated where the waste should be deposited. Some thought it should be returned to agricultural land as fertilizer. Others argued that “water purifies itself” and wanted to pipe it back into oceans, lakes and rivers. The latter school of thought won and by the early 19th century, much of our waste was being dumped into bodies of water.

 

This worked well except for the cities that got their drinking water downstream from sewage waste discharges. Outbreaks of typhoid occurred and a new debate ignited. Public health officials wanted to treat waste before dumping it; sanitary engineers wanted to discharge raw sewage and filter water before drinking. The engineers prevailed. Water was filtered and typhoid diminished.

 

As industry grew in the 20th century, manufacturers needed low-cost waste disposal, and sewers fit the bill, since the public was paying. Toxic waste became mixed with household waste as it was dumped into bodies of water.

 

The Hampton Roads Sanitary District owes its existence to this practice. Oysters were essential to the Hampton Roads economy and when the Virginia Department of Health condemned a large oyster producing area in 1925 due to pollution, residents first became aware of the damage dumping into the ocean could do. The sanitary district was formed 15 years later and is actually a subdivision of the Commonwealth of Virginia, created by a public referendum. Banner headlines from a local newspaper of the era, urging the creation of the district, read “Pollution Is Poison” and “Vote Yes.” (See Hampton Roads Sanitary District -- History.)

 

By the 1950s, any body of water that received piped waste was polluted with too many nutrients from human waste and toxic waste from industry. That’s when wastewater management, as we know it today – treating waste before dumping it into water -- became the practice of choice.

 

Over the years, many of the Commonwealth’s wastewater treatment facilities have become models for the industry, receiving national accolades for their water cleaning technology. The Norman M. Cole Jr. Pollution Control Plant in Fairfax County, the largest advanced wastewater treatment plant in the state, received the Gold Peak Performance Award from the Association of Metropolitan Sewage Agencies in 2004. Three other Virginia wastewater treatment facilities won 2004 Platinum Peak Performance Awards from another trade group, the National Association of Clean Water Agencies (a more palatable name than its sister trade group). The award recognizes outstanding compliance with pollution limits. The plants included the Richmond Wastewater Treatment Plant; the Williamsburg Sewage Treatment Plant, a part of the Hampton Roads Sanitation District; and the Doswell Wastewater Treatment Plant in Hanover County.

 

Despite the Commonwealth’s clean water awards, controversy remains. Wastewater treatment is a multi-phase process, moving from preliminary treatment, which screens grit and other solids (one wag called it “getting read of dead cats”) through primary, secondary and advanced treatments that separate solids, oxidize organic materials and disinfect. However, there is a byproduct of the entire process, called in the industry, biosolids. Others refer to it as sludge.

 

One way to dispose of sludge is to recycle it as fertilizer on agricultural fields. However, communities where this has been proposed have been less than happy with the prospect. One opponent, C.W. Williams, a Louisa County resident, has made a video on possible harmful effects of biosolids. “There are 324,000 acres throughout the state permitted for sludge and we have no idea what on Earth is in this stuff, “he said in a June 13, 2004 article in the Lynchburg News & Advance. A spokesman for a company that handles the spreading of biosolids disagreed. “Biosolids have undergone intense scientific scrutiny and received approval for land application. … Media attention which focuses on sensationalism and which [single] out those who choose to use this valuable resource … only serves to inflame residents and polarize neighbors” ("Biosolid Opposition Grows in Campbell," Lynchburg News & Advance).

 

As an 1877 treatise on sanitation in Scribner’s Monthly expressed it, “Important as it is to secure the proper arrangement and construction of sewers and house-drains, it is still more important to provide for the safe disposition of the sewage” ("Village Sanitary Work," Scribner's Monthly, June 1877). So, the age-old dilemma continues.

 

NEXT: Along the Rails: Train Travel in Virginia

 

-- September 5, 2005

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About "Nice & Curious"

 

In 1691, a group of English wits, calling themselves the Athenian Society, founded a publication entitled, "The Athenian Gazette or Causical Mercury, Resolving All the Most Nice and Curious Questions proposed by the Ingenious." The editors accepted questions posed by readers on any and all topics, and sought the most ingenious answers.

 

Inspired by their example, Edwin S. Clay III, president of the Virginia Library Association and Director of the Fairfax County Public Library, created an occasional column on Virginia facts that may require "ingenious answers" of the type favored by those 17th-century wags.

 

If you have a query, e-mail him at eclay0@fairfaxcounty.gov.

 

Fairfax County Public Library staff Patricia Bangs, Lois Kirkpatrick and MaryAnn Sheehan assist in the writing, editing and research of the column.