Editor’s note: This op-ed is by Matt Fisken, a freelance energy adviser, permaculturist and stay-at-home dad who lives in Hartford.
[S]hortly after the end of World War II, my great-grandparents found themselves standing at a New York City train station, totally overwhelmed, and at that moment decided to leave metropolis. My great-grandfather abandoned a good job working for the electric company and brought his family to the hills of Norwich, Vermont, to recreate a life in pastoral quietude. They would build a cabin, plant trees and become active in the Historical Society while providing a place where their young adult children could obtain an appreciation for nature.
The town they discovered in the late ’40s isn’t all that different today, except it had more farms, fewer trees, no interstate, and a swimming hole called the Norwich Pool. Built in 1944, the pool was a dammed section of the Charles Brown Brook that created a half-acre of still, chilly water in which townsfolk could cool off in the summer. For nearly 70 years, it was a favorite spot for people to congregate just a mile outside the town center.
During the summer of 2011, my family had a reunion at the pool. A few of us took quick dips, but the water was too cold and so it mainly served as a peaceful spot to gather, picnic and catch up. A month later the pool would be gone after the dam was wiped away by Tropical Storm Irene, an event that was documented and posted to YouTube.
While most of Norwich emerged relatively unscathed, compared to some places that experienced the full wrath of Irene, the pool is a lone visible scar, which still lingers three years later. Shortly after the impoundment was washed out, a public forum was held where 90 percent of attendees expressed their desire to rebuild while some thought it was best to let nature do its thing. Despite such widespread support for a new dam, the Vermont Agency of Natural Resources and Department of Environmental Conservation permit stream alterations and dam construction following Chapters 41 and 43 of 10 V.S.A., which require work not significantly impact the surrounding area, including water temperature, sediment flow and aquatic organism passage.
As fish have already begun to repopulate the waterway and birds like the blue heron are finding the solitude and food to move back in, not all would be lost if the town didn’t rebuild.
In hindsight, the dam probably would never have been destroyed had the flashboards functioned as intended or if the level of the pool had been manually lowered prior to the storm. Since 1973, which was the last time the dam gave way, people may have begun to assume it couldn’t happen again. However, given enough time, the forces of water and gravity will eventually return most water courses to their natural path. This particular dam was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The question remains: can the dam be rebuilt to provide a place for Norwichians to swim for two months out of the year while keeping the brook healthy year-round? The town’s application to the state hasn’t been completely denied, but it hasn’t been approved either. Instead, it has received an agonizing “maybe” with a number of challenging criteria to meet before DEC will sign off. The clock is ticking as FEMA funds, which would presumably pay for almost all of the project (expected to cost about $500,000), are set to evaporate within two years. The firm charged with designing a dam that would need to make all parties happy is back to the drawing board while the Selectboard called for public input on the issue during their Oct. 22 meeting.
It’s a little sad to think that an iconic and treasured piece of Norwich may forever be a figment of history while children in town are left swimming in backyard pools or running under sprinklers. Although, as fish have already begun to repopulate the waterway and birds like the blue heron are finding the solitude and food to move back in, not all would be lost if the town didn’t rebuild. With Storrs Pond Recreation Area and the Upper Valley Aquatic Center a short drive, bike or free bus ride from Norwich, the town could easily avoid pouring a bunch of new concrete into the confluence of a 5.6 square-mile watershed.
Even though it seems unlikely that a solution will come about right away, Norwich and the State of Vermont may yet agree on a plan that would consider both the value of place to the community and the wealth of knowledge we now have about river ecosystems. What’s clear is that the remains of the pool dam, the Norwich Fire District dam a mile upstream and the changing rooms are blighted beyond repair, represent safety hazards and should be removed regardless. Cleaning the slate and returning the brook to a more natural state as soon as possible would be the best way for Norwich to show it cares about recreation, stormwater management and wildlife protection. As long as there’s a 12-foot dropoff created by the upstream dam with no floodplain below it to check runoff, heavy rain events will continue to transform the usually quiet brook into a roaring torrent, putting any new impoundment at greater risk of catastrophic failure in the future.
Since Irene, some have discovered this gem of a stream has just as much to offer now as when it was dammed. I’m convinced, with the necessary state oversight, public input and thoughtful effort, the town of Norwich will no doubt find a way to recreate the Charles Brown Brook better than ever.
