GREAT FALLS, S.C. – The town's population dropped by half after the three textile mills closed in the 1980s. Great Falls took on the tattered look of so many other dried-up Southern towns, with a shuttered Winn-Dixie and a movie theater silent on Saturday nights.
But economic salvation may flow just below the red-brick remains of the No. 2 cotton mill. State and local officials tout the mighty Catawba River as a recreational magnet for kayakers, hikers and history buffs. Duke Energy, which manages the Catawba, promises to release enough water to return the river at Great Falls to its formerly frothy self on weekends between March and October.
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But what if there's a drought? Or if the booming cities upstream in North Carolina suck so much water from the river that Great Falls and other downstream South Carolina communities become high and dry?
Those twin fears prompted South Carolina to sue North Carolina last year in a case with potentially huge implications for Georgia. The U.S. Supreme Court, which hears interstate disputes, appointed a special master to determine if North Carolina illegally transfers water out of the Catawba River basin.
Georgia Gov. Sonny Perdue and state legislators, casting about for remedies to the state's severe drought, eye the bountiful Tennessee River that flows within a mile of Georgia's northwestern corner. But Tennessee Gov. Phil Bredesen says the Tennessee is off-limits to Georgia.
Perdue's office has hired attorneys at two Atlanta law firms to determine if it's legally possible to tap the Tennessee. A lawsuit, similar to South Carolina's, could be filed with the Supreme Court, though Perdue's spokesman said last week that legal action isn't imminent. But with much of the southeastern United States fighting over rivers, the Carolinas water war could set legal precedent.
"This is not just a North Carolina versus South Carolina battle," said Gary Faulkenberry, a member of the Catawba Riverkeeper Foundation who lives 10 miles downstream from Great Falls. "This is an opportunity to determine what is a fair and equitable distribution of water between states."
The 225-mile long Catawba starts in the mountains of western North Carolina, skirts boomtown Charlotte and flows into South Carolina before reaching Lake Wateree where Faulkenberry, a retired engineer, lives. Thirteen dams help Duke Energy turn hydroelectric turbines, cool nuclear power plants and provide water to 1.5 million people.
Like the Chattahoochee, the Catawba struggles to keep up with the region's growth, especially in times of little rain. During last year's epic drought, Duke reduced hydroelectric power by two-thirds. Cities from Morganton, N.C., to Camden, S.C., outlawed lawn watering and car washing.
Unbridled growth, particularly in the Charlotte region, combined with drought and poor water management prompted a Washington environmental group last April to label the Catawba "America's most endangered river." Duke, awaiting federal approval to continue managing the river, must ensure that the Catawba's competing municipal, industrial and environmental demands are met. Providing drinking water and electricity remain the utility's major responsibilities. Ensuring sufficient water flows for fishing and boating is not.
But recreation — kayaking and canoeing, in particular — is critical to Great Falls' renaissance, according to Glinda Coleman who heads the town's non-profit development agency. She'd like to see Great Falls (pop. 2,100) live up to its storied name.
Under Duke's re-licensing agreement, the Great Falls stretch of the river will receive millions of additional gallons of water Saturdays and Sundays from March through October. White-water enthusiasts have assured Coleman the river will run high enough to attract top-level kayakers and paddlers. Coleman and state officials also plan a series of parks, trails and historic sites along the river.
But a bad drought would force Duke to keep water flowing to cities and industries and scuttle Great Falls' dreams. Continued explosive growth in the Charlotte region will only increase demands on the Catawba.
"If huge amounts of water are taken out, it could be a problem for us down the road," said Coleman, who visited Georgia's Tallulah Gorge last spring on a fact-finding mission.
In January 2007, a North Carolina environmental commission allowed Concord and Kannapolis, towns well east of the Catawba, yet smack dab in the midst of Charlotte's sprawl, to take water from the river. Once used, the water would be pumped into another river basin.
The inter-basin transfer (IBT) created a furor downstream in South Carolina and even upstream in North Carolina.
"We need to determine what is a fair and equitable distribution of water between two states," said Faulkenberry, the Riverkeeper's past chairman. "How can you justify robbing water from another basin?"
The Riverkeeper, along with two dozen communities along the Catawba, appealed the permit allowing the 10 million gallon-a-day transfer. South Carolina's governor attempted to work out a deal with his North Carolina counterpart to no avail. In June 2007, the South Carolina attorney general sued North Carolina, claiming the inter-basin transfer "would both adversely affect the water quantity and quality in the South Carolina portion of the Catawba River."
Supreme Court justices appointed a San Francisco lawyer as a special master to weigh the evidence and make recommendations.
Concord, N.C., Mayor Scott Padgett defends the IBT as "very reasonable" and "much less water than we think is justified."
"We're being portrayed as reckless users of water, but what would [opponents] have us do?" Padgett asked in an interview. "We were in a very dire situation."
Cabarrus County is water poor with only one low-flowing river within its boundaries. Reservoirs don't hold enough water to satisfy Concord – with a population that has jumped from 45,000 to 70,000 the past decade – during periods of little rain.
In 2005, according to Duke Energy, 170 million gallons of water were pumped daily from the Catawba and ended up in other river basins. By 2058, 458 million gallons will be shared, the power company estimates.
"It's obvious that water, now and for the future, will be a huge issue so we've got to stop fighting these turf wars and come up with ways to work together," Padgett said. "Atlanta is very important for the Southeast's economy. I'm very sympathetic to its water needs."
Searing drought, emptying reservoirs and Atlanta's break-neck development prompted Georgia legislators last April to ask Perdue to negotiate with Bredesen on ways to share the Tennessee River. The governors have chatted informally about a transfer, their spokesmen said last week. But Bredesen publicly refuses to consider shipping water to North Georgia. No further discussions are planned.
Georgia legislators also want Perdue to consider suing Tennessee if Bredesen won't reconsider. The governor's office has hired Judson Turner, Perdue's former executive counsel, and the Atlanta law firm of Hall, Booth, Smith & Slover to determine if Georgia takes its water war to the Supreme Court.
Yet there's no guarantee the justices would even hear a Georgia challenge. And, even if the Supreme Court sided with Georgia, access to the river would require approval from the Tennessee Valley Authority. It could be decades before Georgia drinks a drop of transferred water.
Dan Chapman writes for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. E-mail: dchapman AT ajc.com
