K.C. Traylor
Board of Directors
The Guardians of Martin County
http://www.tcpalm.com/news/2013/sep/07/kc-traylor-message-comes-from-suffering-mother/
Column written by K.C. Traylor who lives in Palm City and is on the board of The Guardians of Martin County.
While I was sitting on the banks of Bessey Creek and warning my 4-year-old daughter about touching the water as she might get sick, I pondered what the river would say if she could speak:
Can you hear me?
The spring rains fall, a time for rejuvenation, new life begins.
But I cry tears of pain, as I know the rains mean death is near. You see, Man finds it more important to keep the cane fields from flooding. I realize the rains will bring only more death and destruction to me and those that depend on me. I cry for help but no one listens.
I am never given the time to heal or build protection for all the children of my watery womb, for every spring comes and Man unabashedly pumps more freshwater and pollutants into my body. I cry for them to stop, but no one listens.
Man recarved my body in the name of profit and greed. They needed more land for fields of cane and I was in their way. I yelled stop — don’t do this to me! I have been designed and engineered by the smartest and highest of powers! I am designed to take care of all — man and beast alike — please work with me! No one listened.
I have cried for decades. As I cry, many have died — seagrass, oysters, fish, manatees, birds, dolphins and more. Many good people that live along my banks have cried, tried to help me, but they cannot compete with greed and profit of the cane fields. I cannot understand why profit means more than my life and all the life within me. Don’t they know the rest of us who share Earth don’t give a diddly about money? We just want to live! Why kill me and my children? Why will no one listen?
I was here long before the cane fields and remember I once had vibrant, clear blue waters and sandy bottoms that teemed with life anew in the swaying sea grass. We were all so happy. Fish were abundant; dolphins and manatees played in my waters without a care in the world. I remember the first men that came and I shared my shores with them. I welcomed them and took care of them. Life was good; why did they turn on me? What did I do to deserve this death sentence?
I long for those days of so many years ago. I am so lonely now that many have died or forced to leave for better waters. Man has posted signs on my shores to stay out — my waters cause disease and illness now. Children’s voices and excitement no longer grace my waters. My waters have become murky, sewage-laden, brown and full of pollutants. My bottom is muck and sometimes I can’t help but ooze black tears at my shores. Why do you want to kill me? Why don’t you care? Why won’t you hear me? I AM DYING!
I see some good people along my banks who cry with me. Their children long to play in my waters. Some of them have been trying to help me for many years, but I think they can’t get the right people in power to help because of money, profit and greed. To these people trying to help, I say, “Thank you, please don’t give up on me.”
Today, I have more people than ever crying with me, giving me a human voice. I have been crying for help; I am dying. Please keep fighting for me for I now am very weak.
I hope you can make those with the power to decide my fate return my body to the way I was originally designed. I want to flow south again. I promise, I will provide for you and all the life that depends on me; I will love you all.
Just please help me to live … please save me … please somebody listen.
— Mother River: Indian River Lagoon, St. Lucie River, Caloosahatchee River and all my tributaries