Imagine you’re moving through a metropolis—whether it be in a car, in a bus, or on foot. Your neck strains as you try to see the tips of nearby skyscrapers. Your heart balloons with the city’s seemingly boundless energy and opportunity. The lights, smells, and noises—like the cars constantly clack-clacking on cast iron castanets—invigorate you. The rush is exciting. Yet, never once do you shift your focus downward, remaining oblivious to all the infrastructure and motion beneath your feet. Often, in cities worldwide, hidden waterways flow underground for miles in conduits beneath the pavement. In recent decades, there has been a trend to uncover these rivers, restoring and revitalizing these waterways and their surrounding areas—a process known as daylighting.
American Rivers, one of the premier domestic organizations on daylighting, defines the term as “[P]rojects that expose some or all of a previously covered river, stream, or stormwater drainage.” Daylighting can yield a myriad of benefits, such as aiding flood mitigation efforts and alleviating persistent flooding, combating the effects of increased impervious surface cover, diverting urban runoff from combined sewer systems, fostering care for the environment, improving water quality, improving air quality, minimizing runoff, recreating aquatic and riparian habitat, prompting further sustainable development in cities, and providing recreational amenities. For example, South Korea daylighted the Cheonggyecheon Stream in Seoul, a city centerpiece interred and forgotten underneath expressways. In the United States, California daylighted two waterways in Berkeley: the Blackberry and Strawberry Creeks.
These examples bring us to the Jones Falls River (JFR) in Baltimore, Maryland. The Jones Falls River flows from its main tributary's headwaters in Garrison to the Lake Roland Dam before finally emptying into Baltimore Harbor. This 18-mile journey transitions from the bucolic countryside to bustling downtown. Portions of the JFR run beneath the Jones Falls Expressway (JFX) and in large conduits beneath the City. I journeyed to Baltimore and followed the JFR from the Lake Roland Dam to its outfall in the Harbor. Together, we're going to conduct this same trek. Along the way, we will discuss the JFR's history, review its present health, examine past and current daylighting initiatives, and meet several experts. The red pinpoints mark our waypoints. Let's begin!
Waypoint 1: Lake Roland Dam and Early History of the Jones Falls River
The JFR has been directly connected to Baltimore City from the beginning. Before Baltimore's official founding in 1729, encampments centered around JFR's outflow into the Harbor—reaping the abundance of fish and eels. As Baltimore's population increased, the City claimed its name and dammed the Jones Falls River, forming Lake Roland, to create a reservoir and supply water to downtown.
In the mid-19th century, industry exploded along the JFR because of its mild gradient. Its gentle slope, dropping elevation slowly over its length, made the JFR conducive to provide waterpower to burgeoning industries. Such businesses included coal yards, food-packaging plants, grain mills, rail yards, and tanneries. The influx of people and production led to the intense pollution of the River.
The JFR and Baltimore Harbor became cesspits, as this era preceded stormwater and sewer systems as well as sewage treatment. In the latter half of the 19th century, Baltimore had the highest typhoid rate in the country, a bacteria-based of sickness spread through contaminated feces. Untreated raw sewage routinely flowed into the River and, subsequently, the Harbor. Compounding the sewage, minimal—if any—regulations governed industry, with business incidentally and intentionally dumping all kinds of pollutants into the River. There are accounts of the River catching fire and turning unnatural shades of blue. Additionally, the rapid increases in impervious surface cover altered the water cycle and initiated local flooding events. During this period, there was little, if any, concern about the River's health or the plant and animal life that it sustained. Instead of clean-up efforts, the City planned to bury the River beneath the City and, ultimately, an expressway.
Waypoint 2: History Continued: Burying the JFR Beneath the City and the JFX
Because of the sewage stench and frequent flooding, the City of Baltimore decided to entomb the JFR. The notion of burying the River beneath the City was first introduced as early as 1817, but the City did not approve doing so until 1912, shortly after constructing separate sanitary and stormwater systems. The chief engineer of the City’s sewer commission, Calvin Hendrick, designed three enormous conduits and triumphantly said that these pipes will “abolish one of the greatest eyesores a city ever had to endure.”
Two years later, with the JFR almost invisible, Major James Preston and city officials hosted a party in the tunnel, reveling in their achievement. The dinner was a grand affair, with lights and flags and white linen and fine glassware. Four months after this meal, the Jones Falls River’s fate was sealed as the master of ceremonies at the 1915 dedication, Henry Jacobs, pronounced, “I have come to bury the Jones Falls, not to praise it.” Cue ominous-sounding music!
In 1955, the City buried another stretch of the JFR and constructed the JFX, which became the major thoroughfare into Baltimore. Today, the Expressway sits above the River, with thousands of people driving into Baltimore with no idea of the water beneath their wheels.
Waypoint 3: Still Below the JFX and the Modern State of the River
The Clean Water Act mandates that states report impaired waterways that fail to meet any water quality standard. Maryland lists the Jones Falls River as impaired for chlordane, copper, fecal coliform, lead, nutrients, polychlorinated biphenyls, suspended sediments, and zinc.
In practical terms, the JFR is neither fishable nor swimmable. A conversation that I overheard between a group of friends as I was walking near the mouth of the Harbor illustrates this point. As they sat on the water’s edge with dangling legs, a small dog scurried between people. One friend asked another, presumably the dog’s owner, “Dude, if Cooper fell into the water, would you jump in after him?” And the friend inhaled sharply and replied, “Yeah. But I would take a shower right after and take a [BLEEP] ton of multivitamins.”
Not only does Maryland consider the JFR impaired, but Baltimore residents also view the River as gross. So, if the water is disgusting, why hasn’t the City cleaned and daylighted it yet?
Waypoint 4: I-83 Crossing and Past Daylighting Initiatives, an Interview with Ashley Traut, and Other Efforts to Clean the JFR
Even though many rivers were buried during the uncontrolled and rapid industrial expansion 200 years ago, daylighting is a relatively recent trend—only gaining real traction in the 2000s, especially after the successful transformation of the Cheonggyecheon River.
Prior initiatives to daylight the JFR were attempted around this timeframe. Discussion on daylighting the JFR started in the last fifteen years, mainly circulating through blog posts, online forums, op-eds, and student proposals. In 2010, two college students at the University of Virginia, Aja Bulla-Richards and Sarah Shelton, submitted a recommendation to the City to decommission the JFX, to daylight much of the JFR, and to construct a green corridor with bike and pedestrian paths. While the authors received an American Society of Landscape Architects award, the City largely dismissed the proposal. The City has also ignored other online calls to action.
To understand the City’s inaction, I spoke with Ashley Traut—a senior manager of the environmental non-governmental organization Blue Water Baltimore (BWB). Five water-quality-based organizations coalesced to form BWB, with a mission to restore Baltimore’s waterways and foster a healthy environment, robust economy, and flourishing communities. During our phone conversation, I asked Ashley for his thoughts about Baltimore’s notable silence about daylighting, and he responded that “the associated costs are astronomical.” The City’s current agenda does not include ripping up and redesigning the main thoroughfare into Baltimore. Instead, the City is looking for more “bang for the buck” through stream restoration projects and green infrastructure efforts.
And as we discussed green infrastructure, Ashley explained that, in his position, he focuses on implementing various forms—such as bioretention centers, rainwater captures, trees, and wetlands—throughout the City. These smaller measures help to improve the JFR and can be spread throughout the City as opposed to down the main stretch of the JFR. He believes that Baltimore isn’t ready to daylight the Jones Falls River. Rather, he advocates green infrastructure and sustainable development as steppingstones until the City is prepared to undertake such a large-scale, expensive, and City-revolutionizing project.
Waypoint 5: The Plunge, Current Daylighting Initiatives, and an Interview with Professor Stanley Kemp
So, what is happening right now?
The online community continues to advocate for daylighting the JFR—with a few blog posts and newspaper articles rolling in each year. In 2018, over 75 concerned Baltimore residents gathered in the Motor House, a downtown arts hub, to form Friends of the Jones Falls, a community-based activist group calling to daylight and restore the JFR.
Additionally, monitoring and studies of the River have increased, with one well-known exploration called the Jones Falls Project headed by Professor Stanley Kemp of the University of Baltimore. Professor Kemp and I shared a long conversation, discussing his project and daylighting.
With his long and wispy grey ponytail, Professor Kemp emphatically discussed his project—his hands and hair shaking all about as he spoke. His project began in 2009 and accelerated in 2016 as the recipient of an EPA grant. The project assesses the water quality in the watershed; monitors bacterial, fish, parasitic, communities; examines the impacts of sewage and contaminated stormwater leaks on water quality and stream life; provides students with learning and research opportunities; and compares the biological communities of the Jones Falls to analogously sized streams in the greater Baltimore region to identify particular impacts on urban stream ecosystems.
I stated that his project is wonderful and could provide much-needed quantitative data to substantiate restoration efforts. However, when I asked the Professor about the daylighting potential of the JFR, he gave a soft smile and said, “It’s going to be tough. The political will is just not there right now.” Professor Kemp then proceeded to emphasize the long game, underscoring that the River used to be worse—erupting into flames and turning a vivid blue hue. In response, I asked whether he ever imagined a Baltimore with a daylighted JFR. He said yes but was unconvinced that such a major undertaking would realistically happen in either of our lifetimes. He extolled the work of groups like Blue Water Baltimore and Friends of the Jones Falls, accentuating the importance of a united, galvanized community.
Waypoint 6: Return to the Surface and Broader Implications
In the final minute of my time with Professor Kemp, he underscored the interconnectivity of the JFR, exclaiming, “There’s a big connectivity between urban streams and the rest of the world, from the Jones Falls River to the Inner Harbor to the Chesapeake Bay to who knows.”
Daylighting, or the choice not to daylight, the Jones Falls River has local, regional, and global consequences. Arbitrary borders do not confine pollution. Daylighting would improve the immediate environment—adding greenspace to a compact City, combatting runoff, improving air and water quality, increasing bike and pedestrian use, among other benefits. Since the JFR flows into the Chesapeake Bay, these benefits will extend to the larger Bay itself. And since the Bay feeds into the Atlantic Ocean where the water travels around the world in deep ocean currents, the potential impact is truly global.
Conversely, current inaction carries implications for Baltimore and its Harbor—with continued impaired water quality. Inaction also affects regional objectives, such as the Chesapeake Bay’s Clean Water Blueprint, which establishes limits, plans, and milestones to restore the Bay to fishable and swimmable levels. And trust me, the JFR is neither fishable nor swimmable in its current state. The actions – and inactions – in Baltimore affect the availability of clean water well beyond the city itself. With the world’s small amount of potable water, how we maintain and restore fresh waterways like the JFR matters.
Thus, daylighting the JFR isn’t only about daylighting the JFR.
Waypoint 7: The Final Destination: Harbor and Conclusion
The initiatives to daylight the JFR extend beyond the need for freshwater supplies and the proven environmental benefits of diverse ecosystems and habitats. These calls to action aim to restore what once was a tremendous asset to the City of Baltimore for recreational use and enjoyment. There is something serene, almost therapeutic, about being able to enjoy a vibrant waterway. The cities that daylighted waterways champion the transformations. The same would be true of Baltimore and the JFR. Like with most change, I hope that steady and sustained effort will prevail in daylighting the JFR. And we need a galvanized, united front to start such a revolution.