Why our water rates are surging – and why black and poor suburbs pay more
By Ted Gregory, Cecilia Reyes, Patrick M. O'Connell and Angela Caputo
PUBLISHED: OCT. 25, 2017
Lake Michigan water rates have been surging throughout the Chicago region in recent years, squeezing low-income residents and leaving them with little, if any, recourse, a Tribune analysis shows.
In this tangled network that delivers water to the vast majority of the region’s residents, the Tribune found an upside-down world, one where people in the poorest communities pay more for a basic life necessity than those in the wealthiest.
And the financial pain falls disproportionately on majority-African-American communities, where residents’ median water bill is 20 percent higher for the same amount of water than residents pay in predominantly white communities, the Tribune’s examination revealed.
Consider Ford Heights, a cash-strapped, predominantly African-American suburb south of Chicago. People there pay nearly six times more for the same amount of water than residents of Highland Park, a wealthy, predominantly white town on the North Shore — and four times more than Chicago residents.
In the end, little is stopping local leaders from raising rates even more: Illinois regulators have no oversight authority over towns’ water rates.
“Their residents are experiencing a regressive kind of tax that is having a significant impact on their quality of life,” said Robert Bullard, professor of urban planning and environmental justice at Texas Southern University.
“We call that environmental injustice because people who have the lowest amount of money are forced to pay the most for basic services,” added Bullard, who has written extensively about racial disparity in public services.
Community leaders offer a variety of explanations for the high rates. Some acknowledge that residents are paying for significant amounts of water lost through cracked pipes and leaky hydrants. Others say they are imposing higher rates to pay exorbitant replacement costs of that infrastructure.
Through it all, little accountability exists, both in the rates they set and how well the communities maintain their systems. In the past two years, two towns — Harvey and Maywood — have been singled out for mismanagement or fraud.
Unlike other utilities such as electricity and natural gas, and unlike other states’ policies, Illinois allows the local officials who collect the water revenue also to set rates.
Robert Hylton is living with the consequences.
The western suburb of Maywood, where Hylton has resided in a tidy, orange brick ranch since the late 1970s, shut off his water in May while he was rinsing a cup at breakfast, he recalled.
“I couldn’t finish my breakfast,” the 77-year-old widower said, standing in his kitchen on a Thursday afternoon in late June. A fly buzzed around a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “I threw everything in the garbage.”
Robert Hylton lived without water this past summer. The village of Maywood disconnected it without notice, he said, only to restore it later
Water rates in Maywood are among the highest in the Chicago region, in part to pay for the 38 percent of water the village loses before it ever reaches the taps of residents like Hylton.
Seconds after Hylton’s water was shut off, he walked to his front door and saw a Maywood Water Department worker on the lawn near the valve, he recalled. Hylton said he told the man that part of the water bill had been paid and he was hoping to arrange a payment plan.
The worker said he merely was carrying out orders, then stepped into his van and drove away, Hylton said.
The latest census figures show that Maywood has about 7,400 households. Last year, the village issued 1,436 water disconnection notices on residential and commercial accounts, records show, though it’s unclear how many of the notices led to water service being discontinued.
If a resident loses water service — Maywood can disconnect after a bill is unpaid for 30 days — resuming that basic utility costs $300.
That is one of the highest reconnection fees in the region, but those fees exist in other low-income, predominantly African-American towns. Chicago Heights’ fees and fines can reach several hundred dollars. Calumet Park charges $200. Ford Heights and Glenwood each charge $100.
Those high reconnection fees make residents’ efforts to get water flowing again that much more challenging after scraping together enough to pay the sometimes-exorbitant balance on their water bills.
The shutoff of Hylton’s water forced him to make a series of accommodations. He showered at a friend’s house down the block. He accepted containers of water from neighbors to wash dishes. He used a bucket in his garage to relieve himself, he said. His clothes went unwashed.
“We cannot survive without water,” Hylton said.
The retired security guard said he receives about $940 a month from Social Security and his mortgage payment is $680 a month. The bill he received on May 19 shows that he owed $333.28 for water on the original due date of May 15, and a $11.55 “penalty amount.”
Printed on it are the words “Past Due Notice,” although the bill doesn’t specify the time period of his use or the amount of water he’d consumed.
Then in late June, Hylton said he paid $300 toward the water bill, but the village declined to turn on his water, and wanted an additional $250, he recalled. He came up with the money a few days later, and his water service resumed in early July, Hylton said. Maywood did not respond to requests for comment on Hylton’s experience.
“You owe them a dime, they cut you off,” Hylton said. “They have been very dirty to me. Very dirty. If I had enough money to get a lawyer, I would sue them.”
Great Lakes water usage
An agreement among the eight states that border the Great Lakes sets down rules by which municipalities can allocate water from the lakes. Generally, any municipality within the Great Lakes basin can access the water. If a municipality or county straddles the boundary, it must seek permission.
WHAT ABOUT ILLINOIS?
Only a tiny sliver of Illinois is located inside the basin boundary. But a 1967 U.S. Supreme Court ruling allows Illinois to bypass the general Great Lakes water allocation process. The result is that a majority of residents in the Chicago metro area get their water from Lake Michigan.
A wide disparity
In making its analysis, the Tribune requested water rates and demographic data from 163 communities with publicly managed systems that use Lake Michigan water.
Of those, 162 responded. One community, Harvey, does not list rates on its water bills and did not respond to requests from the Tribune.
The findings showed enormous differences across the region.
Residents of Evanston, a majority-white city of 75,000 that draws its own water from Lake Michigan, paid the lowest rate for 5,000 gallons of water, $13.71. Two other heavily industrial communities with populations under 600 — McCook and Bedford Park — do not charge residents for water.
About 45 miles south of Evanston is Ford Heights, which has a dwindling population and paltry tax base. There, residents are charged a flat fee of $85 a month — the second-highest amount per 5,000 gallons in the region. Only Indian Head Park, which recently raised its rates to pay for an ambitious infrastructure upgrade, is higher, at $87.50.
Overall, towns with median household incomes in the bottom 10 percent of the region pay 31 percent more a month for water than towns with a median household income in the top 10 percent.
To continue, full article here: http://graphics.chicagotribune.com/news/lake-michigan-drinking-water-rates/index.html
By Ted Gregory, Cecilia Reyes, Patrick M. O'Connell and Angela Caputo
PUBLISHED: OCT. 25, 2017
Lake Michigan water rates have been surging throughout the Chicago region in recent years, squeezing low-income residents and leaving them with little, if any, recourse, a Tribune analysis shows.
In this tangled network that delivers water to the vast majority of the region’s residents, the Tribune found an upside-down world, one where people in the poorest communities pay more for a basic life necessity than those in the wealthiest.
And the financial pain falls disproportionately on majority-African-American communities, where residents’ median water bill is 20 percent higher for the same amount of water than residents pay in predominantly white communities, the Tribune’s examination revealed.
Consider Ford Heights, a cash-strapped, predominantly African-American suburb south of Chicago. People there pay nearly six times more for the same amount of water than residents of Highland Park, a wealthy, predominantly white town on the North Shore — and four times more than Chicago residents.
In the end, little is stopping local leaders from raising rates even more: Illinois regulators have no oversight authority over towns’ water rates.
“Their residents are experiencing a regressive kind of tax that is having a significant impact on their quality of life,” said Robert Bullard, professor of urban planning and environmental justice at Texas Southern University.
“We call that environmental injustice because people who have the lowest amount of money are forced to pay the most for basic services,” added Bullard, who has written extensively about racial disparity in public services.
Community leaders offer a variety of explanations for the high rates. Some acknowledge that residents are paying for significant amounts of water lost through cracked pipes and leaky hydrants. Others say they are imposing higher rates to pay exorbitant replacement costs of that infrastructure.
Through it all, little accountability exists, both in the rates they set and how well the communities maintain their systems. In the past two years, two towns — Harvey and Maywood — have been singled out for mismanagement or fraud.
Unlike other utilities such as electricity and natural gas, and unlike other states’ policies, Illinois allows the local officials who collect the water revenue also to set rates.
Robert Hylton is living with the consequences.
The western suburb of Maywood, where Hylton has resided in a tidy, orange brick ranch since the late 1970s, shut off his water in May while he was rinsing a cup at breakfast, he recalled.
“I couldn’t finish my breakfast,” the 77-year-old widower said, standing in his kitchen on a Thursday afternoon in late June. A fly buzzed around a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “I threw everything in the garbage.”
Robert Hylton lived without water this past summer. The village of Maywood disconnected it without notice, he said, only to restore it later
Water rates in Maywood are among the highest in the Chicago region, in part to pay for the 38 percent of water the village loses before it ever reaches the taps of residents like Hylton.
Seconds after Hylton’s water was shut off, he walked to his front door and saw a Maywood Water Department worker on the lawn near the valve, he recalled. Hylton said he told the man that part of the water bill had been paid and he was hoping to arrange a payment plan.
The worker said he merely was carrying out orders, then stepped into his van and drove away, Hylton said.
The latest census figures show that Maywood has about 7,400 households. Last year, the village issued 1,436 water disconnection notices on residential and commercial accounts, records show, though it’s unclear how many of the notices led to water service being discontinued.
If a resident loses water service — Maywood can disconnect after a bill is unpaid for 30 days — resuming that basic utility costs $300.
That is one of the highest reconnection fees in the region, but those fees exist in other low-income, predominantly African-American towns. Chicago Heights’ fees and fines can reach several hundred dollars. Calumet Park charges $200. Ford Heights and Glenwood each charge $100.
Those high reconnection fees make residents’ efforts to get water flowing again that much more challenging after scraping together enough to pay the sometimes-exorbitant balance on their water bills.
The shutoff of Hylton’s water forced him to make a series of accommodations. He showered at a friend’s house down the block. He accepted containers of water from neighbors to wash dishes. He used a bucket in his garage to relieve himself, he said. His clothes went unwashed.
“We cannot survive without water,” Hylton said.
The retired security guard said he receives about $940 a month from Social Security and his mortgage payment is $680 a month. The bill he received on May 19 shows that he owed $333.28 for water on the original due date of May 15, and a $11.55 “penalty amount.”
Printed on it are the words “Past Due Notice,” although the bill doesn’t specify the time period of his use or the amount of water he’d consumed.
Then in late June, Hylton said he paid $300 toward the water bill, but the village declined to turn on his water, and wanted an additional $250, he recalled. He came up with the money a few days later, and his water service resumed in early July, Hylton said. Maywood did not respond to requests for comment on Hylton’s experience.
“You owe them a dime, they cut you off,” Hylton said. “They have been very dirty to me. Very dirty. If I had enough money to get a lawyer, I would sue them.”
Great Lakes water usage
An agreement among the eight states that border the Great Lakes sets down rules by which municipalities can allocate water from the lakes. Generally, any municipality within the Great Lakes basin can access the water. If a municipality or county straddles the boundary, it must seek permission.
WHAT ABOUT ILLINOIS?
Only a tiny sliver of Illinois is located inside the basin boundary. But a 1967 U.S. Supreme Court ruling allows Illinois to bypass the general Great Lakes water allocation process. The result is that a majority of residents in the Chicago metro area get their water from Lake Michigan.
A wide disparity
In making its analysis, the Tribune requested water rates and demographic data from 163 communities with publicly managed systems that use Lake Michigan water.
Of those, 162 responded. One community, Harvey, does not list rates on its water bills and did not respond to requests from the Tribune.
The findings showed enormous differences across the region.
Residents of Evanston, a majority-white city of 75,000 that draws its own water from Lake Michigan, paid the lowest rate for 5,000 gallons of water, $13.71. Two other heavily industrial communities with populations under 600 — McCook and Bedford Park — do not charge residents for water.
About 45 miles south of Evanston is Ford Heights, which has a dwindling population and paltry tax base. There, residents are charged a flat fee of $85 a month — the second-highest amount per 5,000 gallons in the region. Only Indian Head Park, which recently raised its rates to pay for an ambitious infrastructure upgrade, is higher, at $87.50.
Overall, towns with median household incomes in the bottom 10 percent of the region pay 31 percent more a month for water than towns with a median household income in the top 10 percent.
To continue, full article here: http://graphics.chicagotribune.com/news/lake-michigan-drinking-water-rates/index.html