What is 9,504 feet long, 100 feet wide, and filled with 9,504,000 feet of pure toxic sludge (cumulatively speaking)? Brooklyn's Gowanus Canal, of course -- America's most polluted waterway, which just happens to snake through three of the hottest, hippest and most expensive neighborhoods in the country.
Now, I'm the type of person who is easily fascinated by oddball stuff, stuff like the story of Gowanus. Urban planning, transportation infrastructure, political intrigue, EPA Superfund projects, etc. But even I am a little taken aback by how endlessly fascinating the Gowanus Canal is. Case in point, I more-or-less forced my wife to walk with me from Prospect Park to the headwaters of the canal during a recent Brooklyn trip -- just so I could get a first-hand look at this famed body of water (and a first-hand smell). Gowanus is the poster child of what happens when poor engineering, haphazard city-planning, racism, rogue capitalism, political apathy and gentrification combine. If all or any of those issues interest you, you simply must grab a copy of Joseph Alexiou's masterwork, "Gowanus: Brooklyn's Curious Canal" from the NYU press.
Alexiou's book is now the definitive historical account of this tiny waterway, chronicling its creation, significance, exploitation and rise-fall-rise. Formerly a lazy creek and marshland, the Gowanus Canal was built in the 1840s. Just shy of two miles in length, it resembles a narrow, crooked finger slicing into South Brooklyn from the bay that separates Long Island and Staten Island. Gowanus is the line of demarcation, more or less, between Park Slope and Red Hook. It ends abruptly just south of downtown Brooklyn.
In 1858, Brooklyn (back when it was its own city) began using Gowanus for sewage outflow (first storm, then sanitary). The first odor complaints began in earnest in 1861 and have continued to...right this moment. Brooklynites have been fighting Gowanus since the Civil War.
The New York Times calls it "one of the dirtiest, one of the shortest and one of the most important waterways in the world." From a historical perspective, it is incredibly important. The Battle of Brooklyn -- the first Revolutionary War battle commanded by General George Washington -- was fought on its shores. Brooklyn, itself, owes the establishment of its early economy to the canal. Al Capone learned how to gangster from its grimy banks.
Alexiou recounts this history throughout the book -- bringing to life the stodgy, old industrialists of the 19th century and providing fascinating details about how this short waterway transformed South Brooklyn from an idyllic country landscape into a thriving metropolis. He also chronicles how the interests of those industrialists and the copious amounts of money the canal was making for them and for the city of Brooklyn far outweighed the environmental concerns that emerged after the canal was completed. (That very few powerful, wealthy and/or white people lived in proximity to the stinking canal probably didn't expedite finding solutions to those concerns, FYI.)
Alexiou leaves no stone unturned in telling the story of how the canal became an industrial powerhouse. In its heyday as a transportation artery, more than $1.5 billion (in today's dollars) of materials traversed it. Gowanus floated nearly double the tonnage of the state's largest canal (the Erie's successor) -- while barely costing New York City a dime in maintenance.
And that was the principle problem. Businessmen created the canal back when Brooklyn was still mostly farm country -- it was not a city-engineered project, originally. Grandfathered into the New York transportation network after Brooklyn was absorbed into the city proper, no New York City politicians felt particularly compelled to accept responsibility for Gowanus. And, since it was making bank for everyone involved -- no one wanted to interfere with the market forces exploiting the canal's business (even at the expense of the surrounding environment).
By the time anyone truly realized the environmental disaster they had created, the engineering that led to the canal becoming an open sewer was literally set in stone. To reverse the sewer drains that emptied into it would have been prohibitively expensive. Draining and eliminating the canal altogether was a non-starter for the moneyed interests in town (who also controlled the political interests).
So, what hath all that unregulated industrial capitalism wrought? What's actually in the waters of the Gowanus Canal?
How much time do you have?
Researchers have found carcinogens (PAHs, PCBs, coal tar), heavy metals, pesticides and literally tons of volatile organic compounds -- the latter being a fancy term for human excrement. When the state tested Gowanus's waters back in 1908, they assumed that they'd reach their standard for "heavy pollution" (more than 10,000 bacteria per cubic centimeter). They did reach and surpass that mark ... recording 625,000 bacteria per cubic centimeter.
It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise -- public health officials in 1877 had estimated that just shy of 10,000 pounds of human feces and nearly 11,000 gallons of human urine flowed into the canal DAILY. Without a reliable, fresh water source at the head of the canal, nor a strong tidal pull at its sea end, that waste goes nowhere. Do the math -- that's 510 million pounds of shit over the past 51,000 days, flowing into and through this cozy, 950,000 square-foot flume.
The neighborhood around Gowanus descended into despair and neglect during the middle of the 20th century (as did urban neighborhoods nationwide). Alexiou doesn't report much from this time period. However, those capricious market forces that took so much away from Gowanus finally began to give back. When out-of-control housing costs began pushing Manhattanites into the outer boroughs in the 1980s, some of the braver, more creative among them started to populate the empty structures around the infamous canal. As they educated themselves on the condition of the canal and how it became the cesspool that it is, they became politically active in trying to fix it. Petition after petition soon followed -- this time, with results.
Finally, after more than a century of effort, the citizens living in proximity to the fetid Gowanus secured a big win: the Environmental Protection Agency granted the canal Superfund status in 2009. The minimum toxic pollution score a site needs in order to qualify for the EPA's Superfund program is 28. Gowanus scored a 50.
Remediation is ongoing -- many more years will pass before the canal graduates out of the Superfund program. While we wait, we have Alexiou's extraordinary tome reminding us what happens when business and politics run roughshod over environmental interests. The effects can be long-lasting, costly and -- in an age of historic income and housing inequality -- particularly complicated.
Both Alexiou's research and storytelling are impeccable. "Gowanus" is a fun, fascinating read -- and anyone with even a vague interest in the forces that shaped this environmental disaster should make the time to read it. My only critique is that it is not particularly well-edited -- typos and grammatical errors mar an otherwise fine narrative, particularly in the later chapters.
Nevertheless, check it out and develop your own fascination with this curious spit of water that pushed Brooklyn into national relevance and continues to fuel the hip, creative spirit that the borough is known for today.