South Fork Conservancy installs pedestrian bridge to connect trails along Peachtree Creek

SFC Board Members Celebrate on the Bridge.jpg

After years of work and fundraising,  South Fork Conservancy saw the fruition of a dream as its 175-foot Confluence pedestrian bridge was lifted into place by one of the largest cranes in North America on Aug. 21.

The $2.5 million state-of-the-art bridge lies northwest of I-85 between Piedmont Road and Lindbergh Drive. In addition to connecting nearby neighborhoods and parkland, it will also provide linkages to three regional trails: The Atlanta BeltLine, PATH400, and eventually the Peachtree Creek Greenway.

“This is an impressive project which will connect 25 acres of new greenspace to one of the most park-deprived areas of the city,” said Atlanta City Councilmember Jennifer Ide. “Having easy access to natural areas is critical now more than ever, and this bridge, made possible by South Fork Conservancy, will deliver nature trails and creek views to thousands of people.”

Constructed out of Corten steel and concrete decking, it required one of the largest cranes in North America to lift it into place. Most importantly, the bridge is designed so as not to disturb the health of the creek. The bridge also features an ADA accessible ramp.

“This is one of the most ambitious projects our organization has ever supported,” said Michael Halicki, Park Pride executive director. “South Fork Conservancy is blazing new trails and taking a bold step with this pedestrian bridge to connect Atlantans to more greenspaces and natural waterways.”

To date, South Fork Conservancy has completed five miles of trails, including catalyzing the development of three parks, along Peachtree Creek’s South Fork. The Conservancy was recently awarded one of the first-ever Georgia Outdoor Stewardship Act (GOSA) grants to further its goal of increasing creek access as a source of recreation, inspiration, education, and community connectivity for all Atlantans.

Why is the Creek Rising?

I am calling friends to invite them to join me at the annual Creek Rising Party April 23, 2020 and I realize the creeks are really rising today. The weather service warns of flooding. DeKalb County and Atlanta watershed departments announce sewer spills. The very name Creek Rising contains a certain urgency.

Today these liquid dynamic cords binding Atlanta together are tearing at their own banks, shoving sand and soil downstream and generally reminding us that we are not in control.

A US Geological Survey gauge sits at the Johnson Road bridge over the South Fork of Peachtree Creek, spitting out real time data.  Right now it is flowing at 100 cubic feet per second, 55 degrees F., above average turbidity. All this changes after it rains. Quickly. The creek rises.

We named our annual fund raising party for the South Fork Conservancy “Creek Rising” casually. It’s turned out to be the perfect name. Used to be, people actually said to each other about something important “God Willing and the Creeks Don’t Rise.” I haven’t heard that in a long time, but it contains a crucial truth.  If the creeks rose the roads flooded and you might not be going anywhere. You are not in control.

Our first party, more than ten years ago in late April, Anne Quatrano at Floataway Café created a special trail mix for guests to nibble as we explored the new trails along the creek at Zonolite.   Sweet, savory, spicy: nobody could get enough of it.

We served a drink I think I named Swamp Water. It was dark rum and I even wanted something green to float on top for realism. Martha Porter Hall and her husband Van gently discouraged the appearance of algae in favor of robust helpings to raise money for our fledgling environmental association.  We don’t call our special drink swamp water any more. That first year we had a few dozen friends and raised a few thousand dollars and it’s I’m calling friends to invite them to join me at the annual Creek Rising party April been growing ever since.

The raw dirt meadow reclaimed from asbestos contamination filled in with wild flowers and birds. We got a bigger tent in case it rained. It often rained. One year the cottonwood trees shed fluff so thick it covered the trail through the meadow and into the woods. It looked to many guests like snow. 75 degree snow? That was a fun optical treat.

The music is fun. Board Member Tony Powers, City of Decatur Commissioner, cooks fiendishly good food. By now the trail explorations are more than showing our progress building connecting trails from Emory to the BeltLine in Buckhead. They bring the party to the creek itself.

The duck race is fun. We race yellow rubber ducks, snatching the first winners for prizes. Chattahoochee Riverkeeper Emerita Sally Bethea catches them all so we won’t send rubber pollution down Peachtree Creek to the Chattahoochee River.

The race is a potent reminder we owe something to the creeks. We’re paying attention. We are not in control, but we can help pay attention to the creeks. This party of ours helps the South Fork Conservancy build trails to bring us back.

Brave Boots Conquer a Rising Creek

Brave Boots Conquer a Rising Creek


 


A Dangerous Distance

Angelou Ezeilo builds creek side trails on MLK Day 2015. Photo by Bill Head

Angelou Ezeilo builds creek side trails on MLK Day 2015. Photo by Bill Head

I knew only enough to be intrigued when long time friend Angelou Ezeilo asked me to interview her about her new book at a public book signing party.

When I read an advance copy of Engage, Connect, Protect I was all in. Her work in Atlanta helping to build the BeltLine, the South Fork Conservancy and PATH foundation trails is the backbone of the tale.   

“It was the warmth and kindliness of old black ladies that first opened my eyes to the dangerous distance between people of color and the environment.” That’s the opening line and it only gets better.

This Spelman woman, gorgeous and full of life, drove all over Atlanta buying land for these non-profit foundations building trails and parks for the public good. Much of the land she needed to buy was owned by people in majority black neighborhoods who trusted her too much. “They’d tell me ‘Oh baby, whatever you think I need to do, you go ahead and do that.’ I’d be thinking, Noooo! I need to negotiate against you!”

The ethical conflict, she writes, waked her to the need to educate people of color, the revelation that “my people were the victims of a massive information gap.” The awakening led her to form the Greening Youth Foundation, the nation’s largest organization connecting under-represented young adults to the outdoors and careers in conservation. 

When we arrived for the book signing party at Georgia Power’s headquarters in midtown, I knew we’d have some fun. The crowd was familiar, the hors d’oeuvres healthy and delicious. When we settled into armchairs for the interview, I hoped our friendship would smooth any potential awkwardness of the racial conversation. And it did.  Now she and the growing staff at the Greening Youth Foundation are educating, by example, the value of being outdoors, working in green jobs and sending entrepreneurs of color into that still mostly white world.  The trails she helped to build help Atlantans connect across cultural and geographic divides.

But her story begins with her own pleasure in being outside, in trusting that nature itself is a good place to be. The BeltLine coming through Morningside connecting a ring of neighborhoods to each other is a reality because of her early work. We can read her book, published by New Society publishers in Canada. And then we can take a walk outside, in the parks and nature preserves she helped to create, and be grateful for her work.

Sally Sears December 2019