To the Editor:

There’s a story that needs to be told about this past Saturday’s intense rains. As the heavy rain became even more intense, I knew there would be flooding at Princeton High School. It had flooded during hurricanes in 2009 and 2011, and sure enough, when I arrived Saturday afternoon, umbrella in hand, storm water was cascading down the outside stairs into the PHS basement, and was seeping under doors into the band rooms and onto the performing arts stage. I called 911. In 2009, the wooden stage warped from the moisture and had to be replaced.

The additions to Princeton High School for science and performing arts are lovely spaces with one very serious flaw. The architect made them lower than Walnut Lane. The design depended completely on storm drains to carry runoff away from the school, but when those pipes become overwhelmed, there’s no place for the extra storm water to go. Surface topography rules. Walnut Lane becomes a river whose waters flow into the school.

A science teacher and I were motivated to diagnose the problem and offer a solution. With students, we had converted the detention basin between the science and arts wings into a thriving ecolab wetland full of native plants, frogs, and crayfish. The basin still serves its function to hold storm water, but became much, much more — a mini-refuge and ecological teaching tool.

After the 2009 flood, some staff tried to blame the plants for the flooding, but we showed this not to be the case. We showed how, with only a curb-cut and minor excavation, water from the Walnut Lane “river” could be made to flow harmlessly away from the school and into an empty field at Westminster Choir College. Our understanding was that the field can never be built on, and Westminster’s periodic use of the PHS space would make it willing to cooperate.

We shared this proposal with the powers that be, and nothing happened. Periodically over the past five years, I’ve sent emails to town engineers, school superintendents, and facilities staff, saying something needs to be done. Surprise. People are busy.

Flooding, like climate change, is deceptive. Sure, we spend our days using machines that spill more and more carbon into the air, but most of the time, everything seems fine. Our exhaust pipes offer no visual evidence that they are weapons aimed at the future. Evidence of the flood, at least outside the school, has already disappeared. With no visual cues, few can hear the underlying scream of urgency.

On Saturday, we saw the consequence of that inaction. It’s all the more unfortunate because the runoff from our buildings and parking lots can be used to feed beautiful plantings, as we’ve demonstrated at the high school’s ecolab wetland. Water can be a blessing or a vandal. It flows downhill and feeds plants. These are simple rules. If we follow them, in our yards and public spaces, we will have a safer, more attractive town and be better prepared to weather the climatic extremes our machine culture is brewing.

Stephen Hiltner

North Harrison Street