Kathryn Braund - Lake Watch past president
Just before the Fourth of July in 1993, a group of “Concerned Citizens” erected a public sign that read: “WARNING: Sewage and industrial treatment plant upstream. Swim at your own risk.” They stuck that warning not far from other home-made signs on Sugar Creek, better known at that time by its more appropriate name of “Stinkum Creek.” Stinkum Creek flowed into one of Lake Martin’s many fingers, encompassing 40 acres. Declared to be “in compliance” with federal water standards by ADEM, it was an amazing place. Methane bubbles rose from the muck at the bottom, dotting the water; “obvious solid matter” from the Alexander City water treatment plant were visible as well. Fish and other aquatic life were non-existent. It was nasty.
Everyone agreed that “someone” ought to put a sign up warning people about the pollution. It was Woodfin Martin who said he was going to do something about it. He made the sign and called Dick Bronson, president of the newly formed Lake Watch, to which he belonged.[1] Martin was a long-time resident of the lake and he remembered when the water was clean and clear and good for fishing and swimming. Stinkum Creek wasn’t the only creek that those frisky Lake Watchers tackled. There was Dye Creek, known as Elkahatchee Creek on the maps. Dye Creek’s appearance depended on Russell Mills: Auburn jersey manufacture day, the creek was blue; Bama jersey day, it was red. Six million gallons of colored waste water hit the creek daily. Along with the colors, there were at least eight harmful chemicals in the water. No one wanted to post a sign there either. Not ADEM, not the county health department, not the EPA, not the state department of health and certainly not Alexander City. [2]
But Lake Watch, led by Dick Bronson, with the support of his wife Mary Ann, persevered. They persevered when newspapers articles suggested that “new people moving in here who don’t know the history” ought to be quiet.[3] They carried on despite unpleasant and anonymous phone calls at night.[4] Through thick and thin, Bronson became the voice and public expression of citizen discontent with the ugliness being pumped into the water. Annie Waters, the daughter of Woodfin Martin relates that her father "was so happy to have Dick Bronson listen to his concerns and pay attention to the handmade signs he would post at the end of Dean Road near where we lived. Just to the right of the landing where everyone would put in their fishing boats, where we would swim, and fish, and picnic, was where Sugar Creek dumped its effluent into the Lake. Back when I was a girl everyone called our part of the Lake The Backwater. Daddy's signs would say "Don't eat the fish you catch here" or "Don't swim in this water." It took "outsiders" like Dick to make their voices heard about the water conditions at the Lake. Locals had so much at stake when speaking up - especially ones whose lives centered around the textile mills. Dick's gift for getting out, speaking up, speaking out and taking Lake Marin's water issues to a statewide audience gave traction to Daddy's fight to clean up and save The Backwater for future generations to enjoy the way he had all his life."[1]
That is powerful testimony about Dick’s gift for speaking up and speaking out. We call that courage. [At the time, half of Alex City’s population were employed by Russell Corp. with more working at Avondale Mills.][2]
You can read all about the many accomplishments of Dick and Mary Ann in regard to Lake Watch on the website—their tireless energy and enthusiasm. They are impressive. But nothing, in my view, is more impressive than citizens fighting to better their community in the face of enormous public opposition from some of the biggest corporations in the state and even state and local governments. It took perseverance and even some lawyers, but Lake Watch got the job done. And Dick and Mary Ann had the courage to stand up and take the heat and make sure that things were made right. And all those who had once told them literally and figuratively to “shut up” finally came around to thanking them when Lake Martin was named Alabama’s first Treasured Lake.[3]
It is a treasure instead of a cesspool because of Woodfin Martin, Dick and Mary Ann, and the ny determined people who fought the good fight under the Lake Watch Banner. Dick and Mary Ann, from the minute I joined Lake Watch over two decades ago, have been my heroes. I’m honored to be a part of the organization they founded. And I was very happy to see them receive the Woodfin Martin Lifetime Achievement Award (as is Annie) at last year’s Lake Watch annual meeting.
[1]“Residents plan to raise stink over creek water’s condition,” The Montgomery Advertiser, 3 July 1993. The first Lake Watch meeting was held on 2 June 1992. 36 people attended to specifically discuss conditions at Sugar Creek and the Elkahatchee Creek basin. Lake Watch of Lake Martin newsletter No. 1, 25 July 1992. By the next “lively and informative” meeting, in November, membership had grown to over 60 people, with definite plans for combating pollution. Lake Watch of Lake Martin, Newsletter No. 2, November 1992.
[2] “’Dye Creek’ gets name from textile discharges,” The Alabama Journal, 19 December 1990.
[3] Residents plan to raise stink over creek water’s condition,” The Montgomery Advertiser, 3 July 1993. The quote was by Alexander City Mayor Ben Cleveland.
[4] The Anniston Star, 12 March 1995.
[5] Personal Email Communication, Annie Waters to Kathryn Braund, 9 February 2023.
[6] “Residents more upset by water color than pollution,” The Alabama Journal,
19 December 1990. Many residents were afraid to speak up or allow
their names to appear in connection with the protests since they were
either employed or rented from Russell Lands, part of Russell Corp.
[7] “Lake Martin ‘treasured,’” The Montgomery Advertiser,
29 December 2010. Gov. Bob Riley signed the executive order
designating Lake Martin as a “Treasured Alabama Lake” in a ceremony at
Children’s Harbor, noting that Lake Martin was the first to receive this
designation.
