Pond Number 1

After almost two decades of surveying, I thought that I'd been asked to do the very worst of what the Midwest could throw at me. From clearing fence rows choked with prickly ash and osage orange, to wading hip-deep in a cattail marsh, to out-witting and avoiding biting dogs - the worst I'd been through (or so I thought). Never did I imagine such a task as I was asked to complete in the summer of 2005.

I'd just read something, an article or web page, that discussed the plight of the 'untouchables' or Dalit of India. I thought of their struggle in the stifling heat of the Ganges valley as I felt my own sweat form on the bridge of my nose moments after getting out of the cool interior of my vehicle. The temperature was already at 85 degrees when I got into the office at 7:00 a.m. The sky was clear beyond the pink flames of a brilliant sunrise and the air still and thick with humidity. It was going to be hot. I had scheduled myself indoors for the day to do some paperwork while my partner Vince cleaned up the truck, organized and serviced equipment, and would call it an early day since the temperature was forecasted into the high 90's. Little did I know that the wheels of progress had been turning after I'd left for home the day before. When I got into the office I was asked to come in and look over a bid that we'd given a few days before. We got the job and they wanted it done as soon as possible.

There on the conference table were some old plans, an aerial photo, and a piece of paper with some benchmark information on it. Next to the paper was a few keys on a split-ring and a camera. "Take pictures, this key opens the monitor wells, this one the gate. There is a boat inside the fence next to the pump station. You might want to stop and pick up some rubber gloves...." and the voice kind of trailed into background noise as I measured myself against what was ahead. I was thinking to myself, "A guy does not get licensed and get twenty plus years of experience to be asked to do a job such as this". I'd been around pond number 1. Its the first pond in a series of ponds used to treat sewage. The effluent in pond number 1 is raw sewage and they wanted Vince and I to float it like it was a farm pond! Complete with virus, bacterial, and all manners of pathogens ready to be splashed onto your skin or in your eyes! I was already deciding it was my day to run the instrument while Vince did the float trip when the story of the untouchables haunted my imagination. It was my decision right there that this was just the job that I needed.

I'd be lieing if I said it was a great job. The flies were aweful, I wretched from the stench and filth, and I was happy for the day to come to a close so I could get cleaned up. But as I worked I remembered Christ himself, the maker of that sunrise, touched the untouchable, hung out with the reprobates, and suffered indignities beyond comprehension, ultimately dieing a horrible death on a cross that now, for his sake, is the symbol of peace, love, life and hope for many throughout the world. What could Pond No. 1 offer me but a chance to be truly humbled and become the untouchable for just one day.