By William Wan
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 11, 2006; A01
When Candice Quinn Kelly and her husband bought a house in the farmlands of Charles County, they loved the rural feel and the big, open yard -- especially the small patch of miraculously lush grass in the middle. To Kelly, a Baltimore girl, that odd strip of bright green turf was like having her own little piece of the golf fairway at Pebble Beach.
Then it started getting soggy, which was curious. But they chalked it up to low ground. It wasn't until their toilets stopped flushing one day that they recognized the flourishing greenery for what it was: a spongy marsh of human waste.
"Looking back, it's kind of funny how clueless we were, but, I mean, in the city you just flush," said Kelly, who last year became a county commissioner. "You don't think about where it goes."
As urbanites push ever outward in search of bigger property, better schools and quieter neighborhoods, their inexperience with rural plumbing has led to sometimes disastrous and odiferous results.
Some don't know that their septic tanks have to be pumped every two to five years, maintenance companies say; others don't even realize that their house has a septic system until it's too late.
As a result, county officials from Anne Arundel to Loudoun have organized classes, produced training videos and hand-delivered fliers. They've gone the doom-and-gloom route, laying out visions of flooded basements and nasty backyard ponds. They've tried gentler approaches (bathroom humor, for instance, seems to work well).
Last year, Calvert County offered residents a chance to win weekend getaways, fishing trips and an evening of fine dining if they would have their systems pumped out.
But education alone might not be enough, say some Virginia and Maryland officials, who are talking about requiring that tanks be pumped or inspected.
City vs. CountryWhen someone flushes a toilet in the city, the wastewater is sent on its way to a treatment plant, where bacteria and pollutants are removed before it is discharged into a waterway.
In rural areas, where homes are farther apart, the waste from most toilets is routed to individual underground tanks, where solids are broken down by bacteria and liquids percolate through soil and into the groundwater.
Over time, however, solids accumulate in the tank and need to be pumped out, a process that costs about $200. If left unpumped, solids can clog the system and cause it to fail. A malfunctioning system releases raw sewage that can contaminate well water, pollute waterways and spread disease.
"It's a big frustration," said Tom Miller, an agricultural extension agent who has spent 15 years teaching Maryland residents about septic systems. "This state has half a million households on septic, and many have no idea how to use it."
He gets a lot of newcomers who have not kicked their city habits. They flush cigarette butts, pour cleaning agents down the drain and love the garbage disposal. Unfortunately, much of the education doesn't happen until it's too late.
"Honey dippers," those who pump out septic tanks, say they spend half their time on emergency calls and often have to explain to new residents what went wrong.
"It's amazing the things you find," said James P. Gates, a Mechanicsville honey dipper. "I've gotten bath towels, condoms, even a dead rabbit one time. I don't know how they even get it all down there."
As Gates dropped a hose into the tank of a house in La Plata on a recent day, Shannon Kelley, the new owner from Prince George's County, peppered him with questions. Nearby, her 4-year-old daughter, Brianna, peered into the swirling sludge and wrinkled her nose.
"Mom, it smells pretty bad."
"You know what that is?" her mom asked. "When you flush the toilet, that's where it goes."
The Kelleys are among the more than 421,000 Maryland households -- almost one in four -- with septic systems. In Virginia, officials estimate there are 1 million. And the numbers keep rising as development increases in outlying areas.
Nationally, about 25 percent of households use septic systems, but census officials estimate that they are used in almost 33 percent of new developments. Neither Maryland nor Virginia keeps reliable statistics on septic failures, but federal officials believe 10 to 20 percent of the existing systems are malfunctioning because of poor management.
In Maryland, revenue from a state "flush fee" is funding grants to reduce pollution from septic tanks as part of the effort to restore the Chesapeake Bay. In response, Calvert, where 91 percent of homes are on septic systems, has launched several initiatives. Pump for the Bay, the most popular, has residents enter receipts for having their tanks pumped into a drawing for prizes.
"It's a way to talk to people without being preachy or getting that recoil reaction of disgust," contest organizer Leonard Zuza said. "Let's face it, human waste is not the most attractive topic."
Inventive OutreachZuza, a retired federal budget examiner, has taken up the county's septic problems with zeal.
At a festival in the fall, he and others hauled a concrete septic tank to a museum parking lot and put a rented bubble-blowing machine on top. Kids flocked to it, dragging along their parents.
"Sometimes," Zuza said, "it's more important to catch the public's attention than to try to give a sophisticated message."
His latest idea? A sticker on every school toilet that reads: "The Chesapeake Bay starts here."
"Frankly, I haven't gotten anyone to bite on that idea yet," he said. "But the thinking is if we can catch these kids while they're young, when they grow up they'll be ready to do the right thing."
But teaching people to do the right thing doesn't mean they'll do it, according to a report last year in the Journal of Environmental Health. After canvassing Ohio counties, the authors found that "at best only a handful of residents" pumped their tanks in response to education about septic systems.
The solution, the report said, may be more aggressive regulation. After systems are installed, few local governments require that they be inspected, pumped out or maintained.
In coming months, Talbot County, Md., will try to improve the situation there. The county hopes to use "flush fee" funding to pay for a pilot program to install nitrogen-removing septic systems at 250 houses. The county would then regularly inspect the systems and tell homeowners when they need to be pumped.
"People want to see us pursuing more aggressive strategies," said Ray Clarke, the county engineer.
Four months ago, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency issued a 66-page handbook to help local governments develop similar plans.
In Virginia, two options have been discussed: mandatory inspections or requiring that systems be pumped every few years, said Allen Knapp, a state health official.
Many in the field favor inspections, he said, because some homes need pumping less often than others. Most agree, however, that something needs to be done.
"The one thing that's clear is that septics are here to stay," he said. "We're going to have to figure out a way to take care of them."
