Nancy Kaffer

Detroit Free Press Columnist

Without the Karegnondi Water Authority, there would be no Flint water crisis.

After Flint joined the new regional water system, it began to pull its drinking water from the Flint River while Karegnondi was under construction. Because that water wasn't treated properly, Flint residents were exposed to water contaminated by lead.

That doesn't mean Karegnondi, a new regional water system that will serve Genesee, Sanilac and Lapeer counties, is inherently bad, or that the folks who conceived of the system are to blame for the crisis.

But it does mean that Flint residents harmed by drinking that water, and the Michigan taxpayers who'll pick up the tab for state government's failure to ensure Flint's water was safe to drink, deserve to understand Karegnondi's genesis -- and more important, why state officials took, at times, measures that seemed extraordinary to ensure that the project moved forward.

Consider: The state OK'd Flint's move to join Karegnondi as a cost-saving measure, despite a report that said otherwise. Permits required to use and treat local water were OK'd hastily. Internal emails reflect pressure from elected officials to complete portions of the work. And a state administrative order allowed Flint to skirt its credit limitations to borrow the funds it needed for the project.

The state's role, largely, is meant to be supervisory, ensuring that water systems are in compliance with state and federal law, pumping clean, drinkable water. But in Karegnondi, the State of Michigan seems to have had a lot of skin in the game.

'Sweetheart' bond deal aided Flint water split from Detroit

How Flint's water crisis unfolded

The Karegnondi authority is brainchild of Genesee County Drain Commissioner Jeff Wright, who envisioned a system that would allow those farflung counties to control their own water supply, free of Detroit. Flint joined Karegnondi in 2013, a decision approved by an emergency manager, appointed by Gov. Rick Snyder and then-state Treasurer Andy Dillon to balance the cash-strapped city's budget. Even though an EM made the call, many locals were tempted by Karegnondi's promise: Cheaper water, freedom from what many viewed as the widespread corruption (and subsequent high prices) associated with the Detroit system. Karegnondi plans to pump Lake Huron water to its member communities, the same water Detroit uses, but at a lower cost. The system should be complete in June of this year; in Flint, lake water will flow through the same pipes, be treated in the same plant.

Both the decision to join Karegnondi, and to pump water from the Flint River while the new system was under construction, would save Flint money, residents were promised -- the costs of continuing to purchase finished water from the Detroit system were just too high, particularly after Flint announced its intention to leave Detroit, triggering the end of its long-term contract. Flint's cost to purchase water from Detroit while the new system was under construction -- as Genesee County has done -- would have been at a higher rate.

But the local plant -- with the Michigan Department of Environmental Quality's approval -- didn't properly treat the water it drew from the river. First, the water was contaminated by coliform bacteria. When local operators added too much disinfectant, a chemical byproduct created by the overdose made the water discolored, bad-tasting and smelling. And because the plant didn't add chemicals used for corrosion control, the harsh river water leached lead from aging service lines and pipes. Lead is a neurotoxin that can cause behavioral and developmental delays. Eighteen months after the switch -- and in the face of mounting evidence that Flint had a serious problem -- Snyder finally acknowledged that Flint's water had problems, and OK'd Flint's return to Detroit water. That was in October. It's still not safe to drink.

When Tucker, Young, Jackson, Tull, a Detroit-based engineering firm, handed its final report to Dillon, its authors didn't equivocate: "Based on the financial analysis performed of the various options ... TYJT believes that several of the options presented by DWSD are lower in cost currently and over the long run than the one offered by KWA ... there is an additional risk that the cost of the KWA system may actually be higher than estimated due to construction delays and unforeseen conditions." Dillon emailed Snyder and the governor's former chief of staff, Dennis Muchmore, on March 17, 2013: "This has ramifications that merit further discussion ... can you schedule a mtg for follow up?"

A Treasury spokesman told me last year that Dillon met with folks from Flint, Genesee and Karegnondi, and learned that the report he'd commissioned was based on inaccurate information. Dillon signed off on the switch, calling it a cost-saving measure in a letter to then-Flint EM Ed Kurtz.

The following year, an easement proposal in Lapeer County was "top priority" for the Department of Natural Resources. That's what one staffer wrote to a DNR biologist stationed in Lapeer, charged with accepting public comment for the Karegnondi's proposed easements, in an email included in a release last month by Snyder's office.

In Feburary 2014, the staffer wrote, DNR Wildlife Division chief Russ Mason had "made it clear" that completing the easement proposal "was our ... number one priority and that we were to drop everything until it was submitted. There is a commissioner and several state legislators who are very concerned" about how long the process was taking.

As the project ramped up, Flint ran into a problem: A city's ability to borrow is set by law, typically as a percentage of the taxable value of property in the city. Flint was responsible for 35% of the $285-million Karegnondi project, and thanks to a Michigan Department of Environmental Quality Administrative Consent Order linking the bonds for the Karegnondi project to significantly less costly work required on the local plant's lagoon, Flint could borrow its share of the Karegnondi costs without adding to its debt tally.

It's a loophole to allow communities with environmental problems to bring systems into compliance, without dinging the community's credit, and in this case, it allowed Flint to neatly sidestep its credit complications.

Less than a month before the switch, city officials hadn't submitted a permit to use Flint River water and treat it at a local plant, the Flint Journal reported on March 28, 2014. State officials told the Journal that review of the permit would take 30 to 45 days. Flint laboratory and water quality supervisor Mike Glasgow wrote in an April 17, 2014 email that the plant wasn't ready to go. "If water is distributed from this plant in the next couple of weeks, it will be against my direction." But the switch proceeded as planned -- Flint officially began to pump its water from the river on April 25. Glasgow earlier this month pleaded no contest to a misdemeanor charge of willful neglect. A felony charge of tampering with evidence -- he was accused of manipulating testing data after the switch -- was dropped.

Taken in isolation, none of these events send up alarms. But in aggregate, it's hard not to get the impression that some state officials wanted to see Karegnondi move forward.

Why? It's a question Michiganders still need answered.