Hundreds of aging earthen dams in Ohio are in disrepair and many are unsafe. Thousands of people downstream could be in the path of floodwater if those dams fail.
The Ohio Department of Natural Resources is responsible for dam safety here and knows the dangers. But it rarely enforces the law to ensure that dams are fixed, putting lives at risk, according to interviews with experts and a Dispatch review of state documents obtained through public-records requests.
When the need to fix dangerous dams clashes with residents' desire to live and play on the water, the department tends to bend. Its own records show that it allows dams to remain unsafe for years -- even those the agency owns.
"Safety is not a recognized issue for people who are thinking, 'It's water, it's pretty, I want to be close to it.' You get the pressure to provide access and amenities against 'You shouldn't do that.' Then everybody goes, 'Well, we wanna,'" said Jim Morris, a former ODNR dam-safety engineer.
Right now, a resort community is being built on the 174-year-old earthen dam at Grand Lake St. Marys, Ohio's largest state-owned lake. There's already a hotel, a condo community, houses and a big restaurant built on the West Bank dam. A new concrete walkway is nearly done, anchored into the dam.
It'll be lovely. And it is risky. Engineers say that building on a dam is a bad idea.
If the scenario at Grand Lake St. Marys in western Ohio's Mercer County seems familiar, look no farther than Buckeye Lake, a short drive east of Columbus. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers says the Buckeye Lake dam is at risk for catastrophic failure, in part because 370 homes, docks and decks have been carved into the dam -- a 183-year-old structure that state officials say was poorly built with loose fill dirt and debris, rather than compacted earth.
It is the only thing standing between 3,100 acres of water and about 3,000 people downstream who would be flooded if it failed. A costly and long overdue emergency fix is on the way as state officials scramble, residents fume and safety experts shake their heads at the mess.
As the Buckeye Lake emergency has unfolded, The Dispatch examined the condition of more than 60 other earthen dams in 15 central Ohio counties, as well as Ohio's largest state-owned dams that are considered "high hazard." That means that people downstream from the dams probably would die if they failed, but it does not mean the 460 high-hazard dams in Ohio are imminent threats.
There are about 4,500 dams in Ohio. About 1,500 of them are earthen dams, of which 30 percent fall into the high-hazard classification.
Ohioans might be lulled into a false sense of security because they haven't seen a catastrophic dam failure. But it happens. Days of heavy rain led to dam failures in Texas just last week. On Wednesday, floodwater punched a massive hole through one earthen dam and rushed over the top of another, threatening to break it. And today is National Dam Safety Awareness Day, which marks the nation's worst dam disaster, when 2,200 people died in a dam failure at Johnstown, Pa., in 1889.
In short: It could happen here, and the risk intensifies as old dams are left untended.
In Ohio, The Dispatch found, the same state agency responsible for dam safety owns many of the unsafe dams and often gives itself leniency. Buckeye Lake is a prime example, as ODNR has known for decades about the instability of the dam.
The state hasn't made sure all of its own dam-owning divisions -- or owners of private dams -- complete official emergency plans that would direct residents out of the path of rushing water if dams break, even though these documents are required by state law.
ODNR has allowed Ohio's privately owned dams -- holding water in farm ponds, neighborhoods or lakeside resorts -- to decay without repercussion to the owners, records show. Privately owned dams are plentiful in Ohio, and many are old and unsafe.
The state haphazardly tracks repairs on paper records stored in different divisions across the massive agency.
Some of those records amount to no more than hand-scribbled notes, making it virtually impossible for an individual or a state engineer to quickly learn the condition of a dam. In some cases, ODNR couldn't find files.
ODNR relies on friendly negotiating tactics in place of the enforcement powers it has been granted in state law.
Rodney Tornes, who heads the Dam Safety Program in Ohio, said he can't recall the agency levying a fine against a negligent dam owner.
Even so, he said, the dam-safety program in Ohio is strong.
"We're making great strides. We're headed in the right direction," he said. "We're prioritizing our efforts on really bad dams."
Grand Lake St. Marys isn't one of those priorities, even as building continues on the dam and state inspectors warn that its stability should be closely watched. State officials don't think the dam is that risky, but others do.
"This is a dam," Morris said. "You leave 'em alone. Don't touch 'em. You need to be able to see 'em.
"For those of us in this business, ... we try to keep trees off; we try to keep rodents off, because they dig burrows," he said. "And then some idiot comes along and excavates half of it to put a friggin' basement in, and then they wonder why a basement's wet. It's so easy to say, 'What the hell?' They don't have any concept what they're doing."
When it comes to the state's public dams, records show that ODNR is a classic case of an agency trying, but failing, to police itself.
One division, the Dam Safety Program, dutifully inspects dams, finds dangers and orders the dam owner to hire an engineer to fix structural problems. State law requires the owner to make those repairs. The other ODNR divisions -- typically Wildlife, Parks, Forestry or Water -- then let the problems fester for years. The enforcers at the Dam Safety Program allow them to phase in repairs.
"We will work with them as long as they are making progress," Tornes said.
ODNR sees itself as a thorough watchdog, fixing the worst dams one by one.
"We have guys who, when it rains, they don't sleep. That's their job. Whether there's a risk or not, they worry," said Matt Eiselstein, an ODNR spokesman. "That's why we're out there working every day to make sure people are safe."
Yet, the 66-foot-high dam at Hargus Lake south of Columbus has been a problem since at least 1985. The lake there, in A.W. Marion State Park in Pickaway County, is known for its prime fishing and hiking spots.
Dam inspectors ordered the owner -- ODNR's Division of Parks and Recreation -- to watch the dam's embankment weekly because of apparent instabilities.
State engineers also said that the dam can't withstand a significant flood. Although its capacity is one-fifth that of Buckeye Lake's, if it failed, Hargus Lake's floodwaters would potentially kill people and destroy houses and farms in a 4-mile path all the way into Circleville.
State records for Hargus Lake Dam indicate that no major work has been done since a 2013 inspection. The state doesn't consider Hargus a priority, as other dams are worse off.
Sometimes an emergency pushes a dam to the top of the list.
In southern Ohio's Pike County, a leaking earthen dam prompted ODNR to drain Lake White down to mud flats last year. ODNR's Parks division owns the dam and is making repairs after years of incremental steps to make it safe.
Just like at Buckeye Lake, where the state is prepared to spend an estimated $150 million to protect lives and property, ODNR has produced a study on how to fix Lake White nearly every year for the past decade.
Water overtopped Lake White's dam in 1964 and again in 1994 because it couldn't drain from the lake into Pee Pee Creek fast enough.
The dam has leaked ever since. On Labor Day last year, ODNR workers went door to door to the houses that rim the recreational lake and told residents to immediately hoist their boats out of the water: The dam was dangerous, they said, and they would immediately begin to drain the lake.
"Over the years, we would hear they're going to fix the dam. There's not been money put into it," said Stefani Kesig, who owns a lake house there with her family. She and her husband, Gary, who live in Grove City, now wonder whether state money meant for Lake White repairs will be diverted to bigger, closer-to-Columbus Buckeye Lake. They hope not.
This isn't how dam safety is supposed to work.
State dam inspectors, who try to inspect on a five-year cycle -- though they don't always succeed -- are supposed to identify the issues. They divide problems into those critical enough to require an engineer's help and maintenance issues that the dam owner can handle, such as mowing or removing debris.
State law requires the dam owner to fix what the inspector finds but sets no deadlines.
In theory, the dam owner takes care of the problems immediately. And if the dam owner doesn't, ODNR has enforcement powers. Those begin with issuing a violation notice to tell the dam owners that they're breaking state law and that they must fix the dam. The state has issued 20 violation notices in the past five years.
If those are ignored, the next step would be to issue a chief's order -- a big hammer that threatens legal action if the dam owner doesn't comply.
The last step would be to take the dam owner to court. But the department doesn't go that far.
The Dam Safety Program issued only four chief's orders to dam owners in the past five years, despite widespread evidence that dam owners have flouted the law and ignored safety warnings.
Two of them went to one dam, Lake Monterey in southwestern Ohio's Clermont County. The first order went out in 2012 and was ignored. The second went out in January.
The department hasn't sued the private dam's owner. Tornes said he couldn't say much about that dam because the department's legal team is reviewing the case, but he said the dam is in bad shape.
To fix Ohio's state-owned dams -- a third of which are deficient -- would cost an estimated $300 million, according to the American Society of Civil Engineers. That doesn't include repairs at Buckeye Lake or Lake White.
There's no estimate of what is needed to repair private dams.
"It's not that they're going to fall down tomorrow, but given the wrong set of circumstances, like a flood that would trigger that, you could see a lot of dams failing," said Mark Ogden, a former administrator in Ohio's Dam Safety Program who now serves as a project manager for the Association of State Dam Safety Officials. The group is based in Lexington, Ky., and Ogden lives in Columbus.
Ogden said Ohio does a good job of identifying hazards. But those who have studied Ohio dams for years say follow-through is lacking.
James E. Evans, a Bowling Green State University geology professor who has studied dam failures, said, "It really has to come down to a public motive. If the public is upset about something, that gets through and something happens. If it's just scientists who work for the government saying, 'This is a hazard,' they're not going to listen to them. They're going to hold them responsible after the fact."
Nearly 40 percent of Ohio's dams were built before 1960, when a series of deadly dam failures across the U.S. led to major changes in how states build, monitor and repair dams.
More than 1 in 5 of Ohio's high-hazard earthen dams was built before 1945, putting them near the end of their life spans.
"Dams really do have a life expectancy of about 70 years," Evans said. "That, again, is something the public doesn't think about. They think of them as permanent structures that don't need maintenance or anything."
Buckeye Lake and Grand Lake St. Marys were built in the early to mid-1800s. They already have beaten the odds.
Although ODNR recently halted building new docks and other structures into Buckeye Lake dam, it has repeatedly offered its blessing to construction at Grand Lake.
It leased the waterfront side of the dam, which the Parks division owns, to the city of Celina. Celina went whole hog into a development plan that included a long stretch of concrete walkways, boat docks, park benches and lampposts. ODNR helped pay for the boardwalk, though it did not vet the safety of the entire project.
New lakeside homes have for-sale signs in their yards, and lots appear to be waiting for construction equipment.
"It's not nearly as detrimental as what we have going on at Buckeye Lake," Tornes said. At Buckeye Lake, houses were built squarely into the dam. At Grand Lake, they were built on the back side of the dam. Grand Lake's dam is built from more-compact dirt and doesn't have the history of leaking that Buckeye Lake's does, Tornes said.
Both lakes fed water to Ohio's 1820s-era canal system and have turned into a mix of recreational parkland and lakeside living. The dam at Grand Lake, which is about 20 feet tall, is holding back 13,000 acres of water at the same time it hosts the resort development.
Asked if it is safe, Tornes said, "I would never tell you a dam is safe."
Trying to corral large amounts of water presents an inherent risk, always.
Inspectors wrote as recently as 2009 that the stability of Grand Lake's West Bank should be studied because of concerns about it cracking. New buildings have covered at least some of the dam, so it's nearly impossible for inspectors to see its condition, or even where it begins and ends.
There's conflicting information about whether ODNR has tried to slow construction there. The agency says it has taken a hands-off approach, but the city's permitting office says ODNR is reviewing construction requests. A local real-estate agent says the agency recently quashed one of his deals.
Nick Dammeyer was set to sell one of the empty lakeside lots along the West Bank when the would-be buyers learned they couldn't get permits to build on the dam. The deal fell through.
"Even in our area, we've heard of Buckeye Lake. That's what part of their mentality is -- why they won't give a building permit on the West Bank. I don't think there's any proof that there's any problems with it," Dammeyer said. But, "I'm not sure what they're worth if you can't build on them."
They'd be worth even less if the dam failed.
(c)2015 The Columbus Dispatch (Columbus, Ohio)
