June 7, 2007

Jackie Davenport, who operated the Village wastewater treatment plant for 28 years, retired last Wednesday after nearly 35 years with the Village.

By Lauren Heaton

Down Grinnell Road, at a level lower than all of the homes in Yellow Springs and a point where all the local sewage lines converge into one main trunk, the hum of the Village wastewater treatment plant is strong and healthy, thanks to Jackie Davenport, who has kept it going for the past 28 years. She retired last week after almost 35 years with the Village and feels confident in handing her responsibilities over to water and wastewater superintendent Joe Bates, who she said obsesses as much as she does about the operation that helps keep the area’s water safe.

Removing the grit, grime and grease from the water that comes down the pipe and turning it into a biodegradable substance that is, by Ohio Environmental Protection Agency standards, safe enough to put back in the stream system, requires meticulous skill that Davenport wasn’t trained for when she took the job in 1979. The operator must maintain three filtration systems and keep a series of aeration tanks bubbling sufficiently to oxygenate the “good” bacteria, which digests an average 600,000 gallons of wastewater flow per day. Both mechanical and laboratory skills are needed to ensure the equipment runs properly and the water gets purified. All of this Davenport, with a mechanical aptitude and a love of precision, learned on the job.

“The plant was already 20 years old when I came — things were constantly needing to be fixed, and there were no manuals then for how the machines operated,” she said.

Things were different then, less regulated and more physically taxing, Davenport said. She and then Superintendent Troy Sloan hauled their own sludge (suspended solid waste) in a 2,000 gallon truck and grit (fine particulates such as sand and coffee grounds) in 55-gallon barrels to a pit on Stevenson Road and later to the Village-owned hayfield on State Route 343. Davenport sampled the treated water at the plant each day and counted bacteria in the lab to make sure there were enough ciliates and rotifers to break down pollutants before the water was disinfected and then returned to the streams.

“Simply put, my job was to keep the bugs happy,” Davenport said.

Only when the EPA started monitoring wastewater treatment more closely in the 1980s was the process standardized, the operators permitted, and the hauling of sludge relegated to a contractor, who now takes it to David Linkhardt’s farm to be used as fertilizer. Davenport studied hard to learn about electrical engineering for her exams and now holds a level 2 wastewater permit.

Still, others things have not changed.

Condoms, tampons and dental floss were the bane of Davenport’s work world, as the seemingly harmless items that people unwittingly flushed down the toilet became a major source of work for her at the end of the line. Covered with oils that had turned viscous in the cold water, they would stick together with other non-flushables and form what plant operators know as a greaseball. Greaseballs, if they make it to the plant, can usually be fished out by hand from the filtration tank. But if they get big enough to block a line, such as the one on Corry Street clogged last year by a wad of rubber gloves, they can be the cause of a major repair to a pipe buried 10 feet deep.

“Nothing but toilet paper should be put down the sewer,” she said. “And you can keep your goldfish, too.”

Anything residents can throw in the trash rather than down the drain saves the plant operator from having to extract it and haul it to a landfill, said Bates, who is eager to educate the public for his present tenure as both operator and superintendent of the plant. Davenport’s position will not be replaced, according to Bates.

The operator of a wastewater treatment plant also has the responsibility of tending to the variety of animals that, because the foamy surface of the aeration tanks looks solid, stumble over the edge and find themselves in for a surprise swim. Davenport has fished out birds, snakes, groundhogs, snapping turtles, and once she drew up a dog from one of the tanks and sent him on his way. Several years later, the story made its way to the dog’s owner, who was relieved to have finally solved the mystery behind the foul odor her escaped dog came home with.

The Village has been a good employer during her time as an operator, said Davenport, who has worked under seven Village managers and interim managers. Still she has fought for things, such as new lab equipment, a new water clarifier and water testing equipment that has made compliance with the EPA regulations easier. And she has generally gotten them, including the new dissolved oxygen and pH meters made by YSI, Inc. Her plant has never been found in violation of its permit, she said.

At 60, Davenport feels good about retiring. She plans to stay in the village and spend time with her children, Joretta and Jackie, and her grandchildren, who she fears may require more work than her job at the plant. “I’ll probably wish I had my old job back when I start babysitting,” she said.

“I’ve enjoyed my time with the village, and I’ve always taken pride in making the plant as good as we can make it in order to help the whole environmental system,” she said.

Contact: lheaton@ysnews.com