November 2, 2007
By Larry Copeland
USA Today
ATLANTA — The prolonged drought gripping the Southeast, perhaps most acutely in this booming metropolis, is creating anxiety not seen in previous dry spells.
Photo: Signs label closed boat ramps at Lake Lanier's East Bank Park in Buford, Ga. Lake Lanier's water level is declining due to drought conditions in Georgia, Florida and Alabama and the governments of both states are asking for federal assistance. (By Jessica McGowan, Getty Images)
It's partly those haunting pictures of a slowly dying Lake Lanier, Atlanta's main water source, seen almost daily on the evening news here. It's partly the underlying drumbeat of an escalating water war among Georgia, Alabama and Florida. It's partly the discouraging forecast, which calls for a dry winter, and partly the sneaking suspicion that the Southeast might have grown too much too fast.
This drought is affecting the region's psyche, and the anxiety level is heightened by local countdowns to the day the water could be gone.
Georgia's environmental director has estimated that the northern third of the state will run out of water in about 80 days, a contention disputed by the Army Corps of Engineers, which says the region has a 280-day supply. North Carolina says that 17 water systems, including those serving Raleigh and Durham, have roughly three months of water left. This week for the first time, Duke Energy, which manages the Catawba River under federal authority, estimated that communities it serves could run out of water by mid-March.
Southerners have always loved talking about the weather, but now the subject is broached at cocktail parties, churches and sports bars with a sense of urgency bordering on desperation. People who usually don't pay much attention to weather forecasts now tune in first thing to see whether rain is on the way. They turn off the water while they shave or brush their teeth. They take shorter showers and capture the runoff to water plants.
"It's resonating more now because they've put a finite number on it," says Andy Harper, an environmental historian at the University of Mississippi who has studied the region's climate. "That's something we can all get our minds around. When you have that kind of specificity, you get more of a response."
Some residents are stockpiling bottled water, just in case. Michael Massicott has 150 gallons in his basement in Atlanta and plans to add 50 more. The water is not from the local supply but from a spring in north Georgia.
Photo: Because of the drought being experienced in the Southeast, Michael Massicott has stockpiled 36 five-gallon jugs of water in the basement of his Atlanta home. (By Michael A. Schwarz, USA Today)
Massicott learned his lesson 12 years ago after Hurricane Opal when he and his wife had no power for four days and no way to heat formula for their infant daughter. "I don't think it's going to be a matter of not being able to get water," he says. "I just think it's going to be more difficult and more expensive.
"If they decide to limit water, you can be under the radar if you have your own supply," says Massicott, 43, who owns an advertising firm. "I have no doubt this is the right thing for my family."
Jamie Carroll, who owns the company that delivers Massicott's bottled water, says he sees subtle evidence that people are stocking up on water. "It seems like people are a little more scared this time," he says. "A lot of people don't understand where all the water comes from. They're just really, really worried."
Some of that worry might abate after the water-sharing summit held Thursday in Washington with the governors of Georgia, Alabama and Florida and federal agencies that control the flows from Lake Lanier to Alabama and Florida.
Concern is high in western North Carolina, where dozens of people have seen their wells dry up. Teresa Hammack of Mars Hill, N.C., whose spring ran dry in August, learned to comparison shop for water the way others do for gasoline.
"I was paying 99 cents a gallon," she says. "Now, I pay 68 cents." Every other day, she lugs 50 gallons into her car, takes it home and totes it up 35 steps to the house. She washes her hair twice at week at her son's house and uses dishwashing water to flush her toilets.
"They're saying our watershed will probably last until March," says Hammack, 55, marketing director for a retirement center. "There's nothing in the forecast for rain. That's frightening."
Not all the drought anxiety in the Southeast is fueled by distant notions of "what if" but by more immediate reality. As layoffs spread in the landscaping business, charities that provide emergency food, clothing and financial assistance are seeing increased caseloads.
"There's a ripple effect," says Barbara Duffy, executive director of North Fulton Community Charities, which has seen the number of families seeking help every day increase to 100 from 75 in the past six weeks. "When certain things happen, it causes other things to happen."
http://www.usatoday.com/weather/news/2007-11-01-drought-anxiety_N.htm