A CITY AND A RIVER
By Bill Birdsell, OAA, FRAIC
Rivers have traditionally attracted industry due to their ability to provide power for mills, transportation routes and fresh water. Civilization grew next to water and commerce followed. The colonization of Southern Ontario exploited these ideas and was shaped by them. Land was frequently deeded to major founding settlers with the condition that they construct a mill. It seemed logical for homes, stores, businesses and institutions to follow and communities were born. Such creation, by its very nature, is an optimistic gesture. But there are also inherent risks that threaten these urban accomplishments, and they are often recognized too late. Water in the form of flooding is second only to fire in its destructive potential.
People have tried to control the ravages of nature without success for as long as the built environment has existed. Building next to a river gave us a history and sense of place, so we put great effort into altering, damming and otherwise encroaching on natural watercourses. This love of our built heritage and culture made us complacent, and it all seemed fine and progressive right up until nature took its revenge.
“The Great Flood of '74” occurred in Galt, a small community located within the City of Cambridge, on May 17, 1974. Due to the combination of a heavy rainfall and spring thaw, the Grand River breached its banks, causing massive damage to the downtown area. The river's depth rose more than 18 feet, inundating businesses and homes, requiring significant rescue and cleanup efforts. This event remains a significant moment in the city's history, highlighting both the destructive power of nature and the community's reaction and resilience.
A major flood, like a huge fire, is a primal event to someone that experiences it firsthand. In 1974, I was a high school student, living just downriver in Paris, Ontario. My reaction to the flood was to hit the streets and participate in the filling and stacking of sandbags. I was young and did not realize the significance of this experience, so generally, I just wandered around and stared in amazement at the effects of nature gone wild. The significance of the event was not lost on me and I have reflected on it many times when other storms have swollen rivers and caused them to breach their banks in cities around the world.
After the Galt flood, a Royal Commission immediately began planning flood mitigation measures to prevent future occurrences. As a result, there are now seven dams and reservoirs on the Grand River to hold water and reduce any future flood peak. Other measures to reduce rapid runoff and encourage storm water management are also underway across the watershed, which add some level of protection to all the low-lying communities on each side of the river. The most impactful physical change to Galt was the introduction of flood walls, dikes and the fortification of the sides of all buildings adjacent to the river.
In 1977 I was a student of architecture at the nearby University of Waterloo. We were all horrified at the prospect of the brutal injection of barriers and fortifications into this charming 19th century community, with its church spires and rustic stone heritage structures. Our class was given the project to fashion an intervention in a way that would soften the impact and be more respectful of the cultural language of the community. Our work would be entered in a competition “Design in a Degraded Urban Environment,” which was more focused on Eastern European Cities recovering from the ravages of the Second World War than the self-inflicted urban wounds of flood prevention in southwestern Ontario. My particular design solution, which focused on the Central Presbyterian Church, was to place the building on an island, like the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, France, located on the Ile de la Cite in the River Seine.
The more recent reaction to building in flood-prone urban environments is to shift from simply addressing the problem to actively seeking pre-emptive solutions to mitigate climate change and flooding. These include nature-based investments like restoring wetlands and urban forests, which reduce flooding and sequester carbon. Other approaches involve water management through rainwater harvesting and wastewater reuse, as well as installing advanced early warning systems with remote sensing. Many cities now also promote resilient urban planning, which includes increased use of permeable surfaces, in the form of green roofs and porous pavement that slow runoff.
The question is: How do we prepare our defences against an unyielding force of nature without destroying all we hold dear? Galt has embraced all these protective measures and turned them into advantages, by creating new public areas. There are now paths on top of the protection banks. The ruins of the limestone buildings removed to make way for the flood prevention measures now house quaint spots for people to sit and, in larger instances, parks. The new buildings and those adapted for reuse all bear a distinctive mark showing the historic high-water level.
The resulting good news is that Galt has not only survived the brutal insertion of ominous flood-protection walls among its heritage buildings. The scenic charm of old-world limestone buildings, reminiscent of Western Europe has actually been enhanced. In fact, the city is so photogenic, it is a frequent filming spot for various television and movie projects. I enjoy recognizing my favourite spots masquerading as London England or other spots within Europe and often dressed to be seen from other times as well. Even the most brutal walls and buttresses can have their own close-up shots in post-apocalyptic cinematic efforts. I think this may be what attracts film makers to Galt. It has such a wide variety of public spaces, squares and vistas all filled with unique scenic wonder, both heritage and modern all wrapped up in one compact location.
It was a bright sunny day recently as I stood on the Main Street Bridge and remembered the Great Flood of ’74. It had been a sunny day then as well. I remembered the water whirling around my ankles and the old bridge groaning as debris ran into it. Yes, the porous foundations of all the buildings with their windows punctured and basements flooded have been replaced by impervious walls of concrete, and a trench has been carved into the city to withstand a future torrent, but it is only part of the multilayered composition that is Galt today—a city made stronger by the events of yesterday and filled with the promises of tomorrow.