If you could have a conversation with the Blackstone River, what would you say?

This question was asked as part of the Blackstone River Commons Anthology. My conversation with the Blackstone River would go something like this...

I wish I knew you when you were young. Not early in our history, but early in yours. More than 15,000-years ago when the glaciers retreated, the ice melted and raging waters cut through the rolling hills to create your valley. Today, you flow 48-miles and drop 450-feet on your way to the sea.

And you are not alone. Along the way you collect water from smaller rivers and streams like Mill Brook, the Middle, the Quinsigamond, the West, the Mumford, the Branch, the Mill, and the Peters. Your valley includes over 640 square-miles, and connects 39 communities in what is now Massachusetts and Rhode Island.

The glaciers left rolling hills and a wide floodplain in your valley. On higher ground oak forests grew, and in the low-lands blueberry bushes, willows, and alders thrived. Migratory birds flocked to your banks, and fish labored up your raging waters to spawn.

We often think about your history starting with the Europeans, but Native Americans knew you long before. For at least 9,000-years before the arrival of the Europeans, Native Americans came to hunt, fish and set up camps along your banks. They took advantage of your rich soil to grow crops, and your abundant supply of fish and wildlife.

That changed with the arrive of Europeans. By the middle of the 17th century, European settlers had established small farming communities in your valley. They took advantage of your abundant resources to grow crops, quarry minerals and harvest timber. They also built dams to power gristmills, sawmills and foundries. We started to change you.

With the development of the textile industry in the late-18th and early-19th centuries, industrialists took advantage of your steep drops and numerous falls to build water powered textile mills. Mill villages grew up along your banks with dams, mill ponds and eventually a canal and railroad.

We put you to work, and you earned the reputation of being the “birthplace of America’s Industrial Revolution” and “the hardest working river in America”. In the process, dams blocked the migration of fish, mill ponds collected harmful sentiments, and mills released dangerous chemicals. Little remained of your free-flowing waters.

By the middle of the 20th century the textile mills were gone, but the devastation they left in their wake remained. You were then known as one of the “most polluted rivers in America". But that didn’t stop us. We continued to dump sewage and other pollutants into your waters.

Fortunately, people now recognize the damage that has been done, and have begun to work on solutions. You became part of the National Heritage Corridor system in 1986, and were designated as an American Heritage River in 1998. Significant water quality improvements have been achieved as a result of the Clean Water Act and other pollution reduction initiatives, but we have a long way to go.

Through these efforts, many people now recognize your beauty, your grace and your charm. With a bike path along your banks, everyone can now see your potential. We continue to work to clean up your waters, return fish and other wildlife to your valley, and revitalize development along your banks in ecologically friendly ways.

You probably know all this, and have your own plan for the future. To you, we are just a spec in time. You have thousands of years to clean up the mess that we have made, and your waters will flow long after we are gone. Still, we need to do our part now to fix our mistakes, and hopefully we will.

Submitted as a reflection on the Blackstone River to the Blackstone River Commons Anthology - August 11, 2022.