Who'll Stop the Drain?
If you notice a foul stench while you’re walking along Rock Creek, you may be part of the problem.
Cover Story
It was raining hard. The inside of our new house sounded like the percussion section of a high-school band. Thunder, lightning: We got the whole show, a classic of late-summer Washington, D.C. The storm ended abruptly, as though it suddenly got bored. Outside, the sidewalks were steaming, and you could smell electricity in the air.
Our recycling bin and Supercan lay on their sides at the bottom of the driveway, where it slopes down into the garage over a grated trench drain, and there was a big horizontal line of wet dirt two feet up on the garage door. Water—a lot of it—had come and gone and left its mark.
Worried now, we ran to the basement, where our worst fears were confirmed. Like the trench drain, the bathroom shower had experienced a Linda Blair moment, vomiting dirty water all over the tile floor and out the door into the carpeted playroom. The wet filth was full of debris, like the stuff that runs in gutters. I felt invaded. There is something wrong with this house; I knew it all along. We never should have bought it.
“Calm down,” said my husband. “It was an unusually heavy rainstorm, and we’ll plug up the shower drain so nothing more can come out.” Right.... Continued
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