Burning River Re-Visited

As I've written before, I grew up in Cleveland.

Well, technically, Lakewood, the nearest Western suburb. We share the same lake view. As a kid, on the 4th of July, we would gather near the Lakewood Park fence to watch the fireworks, and get a 2-for - we could see both Lakewood's and Cleveland's fireworks from that vantage point. One year, when an accident caused most of the Cleveland fireworks to erupt in just a few minutes, we were able to see it, then enjoy our own fireworks for the rest of the time.

Trips to Cleveland, via the Rapid Transit, the local commuter train, were always fun. We saw the then-busy industrial activity along the route. In the warmer months, we hurriedly closed the windows that had been opened for ventilation once we passed the 25th street station. The smell of the steel mills always included a hefty dose of sulphur. Ohio coal is quite high-sulphur, and gives off that familiar rotten-egg smell you might remember from chemistry class.

One time, when a prior train broken down in the station backed up following trains, my train was stuck for an extended period of time - I think only around 10 minutes. But, that was long enough to cause most of the passengers to face a dreadful situation. It was a terrible choice - keep the windows closed, and sweat, or open them, and gag on the nasty smell.

Lake Erie suffered from that pollution of the Cuyahoga River. The lake regularly churned up dead fish, and the odor wasn't pleasant. The lakeshore had become a dumping ground for trash. Few locals used the lake for swimming - like most of my friends, I preferred the local pools. Those that took the trip to Edgewater or Huntington beaches generally had some underage drinking and partying on their minds.

So, when the river's burning caused the lake to became a flashpoint for environmental activism, I was on board with it all. Above is a picture of the lake before cleanup.

Turns out the story about the burning lake was more nuanced than we had been told - as we are now finding out about a lot of "truths" we'd been fed in those times.

Much of the story was not told at the time - Cleveland got a lot of blame for what wasn't their fault.

The Cuyahoga River - the name means Crooked River - originates in the upmost corner of the state, in Ashtabula county. It travels down to Akron - where a lot of the pollution, including sewage, originates - then snakes up to empty into Lake Erie.

The last part, when Cleveland's industries were active, did add to the pollution. One factor that is little known is that both the river and the lake are quite shallow. For that reason, any pollution has a greater effect than on other lakes in the Great Lakes system. Keep in mind that, as the water moves toward the Atlantic, the aggregate pollution increases - Erie has what it produces, plus some residual from the other lakes to the west.

For contrast, here's a picture of Lake Erie at Cleveland today

And, the Cuyahoga River many years after the fire.