If you want to understand the origins of Whitman’s municipal sewer system, you don’t start by looking at engineering schematics or legislative decrees. You start in the muddy backyard of a home on Alden Street in the mid-20th century.
Robert Emmet Hayes, a fourth-generation Whitman resident who would go on to become a Selectman and State Representative, grew up in that house with ten other family members sharing a single bathroom. Like many properties in Whitman, the Hayes family’s backyard was a perpetual sinkhole. Whitman was cursed with a naturally high groundwater table and poor soils, making traditional on-site septic systems highly prone to failure.
For nearly two centuries, the town relied on these localized disposal systems, a model that became increasingly unsustainable as Whitman evolved into a dense manufacturing center, particularly for the shoe industry. Raw sewage and industrial waste inevitably leached into the aquifers and the Shumatuscacant River, creating a severe environmental and public health hazard.
This is the story of how a small Massachusetts town tackled an impossible geographic hurdle, fought off the federal government, made a massive infrastructure gamble in the 1980s, and recently confronted the catastrophic consequences of that system’s aging backbone.
Editors note: South Shore News is going paid in April, subscribe now to make sure you don’t miss a story. Reach out for group or organizational pricing.
The Federal Catalyst and the Brockton Connection
The political momentum for a town-wide sewer system didn’t happen in a vacuum. It was forced by the passage of the federal Clean Water Act of 1972, which stripped municipalities of their discretion regarding wastewater treatment and mandated stringent new standards. For a small town like Whitman, building a standalone treatment plant was completely beyond its borrowing capacity.
The town was desperate. Early attempts to build a system stalled when Whitman couldn’t secure federal approval for regional partnerships with neighboring towns like East Bridgewater and Abington. The delays became so severe that the federal government actually sued Whitman for failing to follow through on its septic plans.
Hayes, then a young Selectman, traveled to federal court to testify on the town’s behalf. “Look, we’re happy to do it if you would allow us to do it, but we can’t do it unless you approve it,” he argued, successfully getting the case dismissed.
Salvation came from next door. The neighboring City of Brockton had just received a massive $55 million grant to construct an advanced tertiary treatment plant. Leveraging his political influence, Hayes helped negotiate a landmark 1983 Inter-Municipal Agreement (IMA) with Brockton, securing 1 million gallons of daily capacity for Whitman. Whitman would essentially become a “wholesale” customer of Brockton’s treatment services, bypassing the need to ever build or permit its own plant.
The 1984 Mega-Project
What makes Whitman’s sewer story unique is the sheer audacity of its construction phase. Unlike most Massachusetts towns that suffered through decades of politically fraught, neighborhood-by-neighborhood sewer expansion battles, Whitman built its system as a single, large-scale project.
Designed by Camp Dresser & McKee Inc., the massive undertaking was executed under three simultaneous contracts in 1984. Contract No. 1 established the system’s heartbeat: the Auburn Street Pump Station and the South Avenue Pump Station. Contracts No. 2 and No. 3 tackled the most difficult engineering feat: laying three miles (approximately 16,000 linear feet) of 20-inch, cement-lined ductile iron force main to connect Whitman to Brockton.
The route was treacherous. The pipe traversed Auburn Street, plunged into cross-country easements, crossed streams and wetlands, and pushed through both a junkyard and a capped landfill before terminating at Southfield Drive in Brockton.
Financially, the timing was perfect. The EPA’s Construction Grants Program was at the height of its generosity. Between federal and state matching funds, Whitman secured up to 90 percent coverage for the main parts of the project, saving the town an enormous amount of money. The remaining local share was funded by an enterprise fund and betterments assessed to the properties benefiting from the new lines. Local leaders strategically engineered the plans to ensure the entire town would eventually be promised sewer access to secure voter approval.
The Ticking Time Bomb in the Soil
For three decades, the system hummed along, efficiently transporting an average of 800,000 gallons of wastewater a day. But buried deep beneath the earth, a silent threat was eating away at Whitman’s lifeline.
On September 13, 2016, the town faced its worst infrastructure nightmare: the 20-inch force main suffered a catastrophic blowout near Alger Street in Brockton. Because there was no backup pipe, the town had to scramble. Emergency crews set up temporary pumps at the Auburn Street station, filling 9,000-gallon tanker trucks and driving them continuously to the Brockton plant just to keep toilets flushing across town.
A year later, on October 4, 2017, it happened again in the exact same vicinity.
Whitman hired Environmental Partners Group to find out why the pipe was failing. Engineers dispatched a drilling rig to take 80 soil samples along the three-mile route. The results were shocking. While they initially suspected internal rot from hydrogen sulfide sewer gas, ultrasonic testing proved the inside of the pipe was fine. The real culprit was external. The ductile iron pipe had been laid in highly acidic soils and was being actively destroyed by escaping landfill leachate and aggressive moisture from the outside in.
The $10 Million Fix
In 2019, Environmental Partners delivered a sobering verdict: the entire 16,000-foot pipeline needed to be replaced.
Replacing three miles of large-diameter pipe is a monumental financial burden for a town of 15,000 residents. The project became the single largest item in the town’s Capital Improvement Plan, with costs ballooning from an initial $6 million estimate to a $12 million borrowing authorization.
To pay for it without crushing taxpayers, town officials utilized a layered funding strategy. They secured a loan from the Clean Water State Revolving Fund (CWSRF). In a twist of historical poetry, the CWSRF program—which provides low-interest infrastructure loans—was actually created in 1989 by the “Hayes Bill,” authored by none other than Whitman’s Robert Emmet Hayes after his election to the State House.
They also deployed $2.2 million in federal pandemic recovery (ARPA) funds earmarked by Plymouth County, an additional $1.8 million in CWSRF loan forgiveness also funded by ARPA, and implemented a $1.50 rate increase per billing period for sewer users.
In March 2022, contractor C. Naughton Corp. mobilized to replace the vulnerable ductile iron with modern, corrosion-resistant High-Density Polyethylene (HDPE) and PVC pipe. The project plan required extensive logistical maneuvering, including a highly complex directional drill beneath Beaver Brook. The town also employed an “open once” philosophy, efficiently replacing aging water mains along Auburn Street while the road was already torn up for the sewer work.
Thanks to a paving grant and careful management, the massive force main replacement came in under budget at approximately $10.7 million, freeing up leftover funds to support a new DPW building.
Between the CWSRF loan around 2%, some lucky breaks in construction bidding and costs, and over $4 million in loan forgiveness and ARPA project this critical infrastructure replacement was completed at minimal cost to ratepayers. By the summer of 2024, the town was wrapping up compliance for the completed project.
A Legacy Underground
Today, Whitman’s wastewater flows uninterrupted once again. The town continues to modernize, upgrading pump stations with variable-frequency drives, installing hydrogen sulfide control systems, and digitizing its archaic index-card tracking system.
Infrastructure is easy to ignore until it breaks. But the story of how Whitman got its sewer—and how it mobilized to save it forty years later—is a testament to civic foresight. From a young selectman testifying in federal court to cure the town’s sinkhole backyards, to modern administrators patching together multi-million dollar grants to replace a decaying pipeline, Whitman’s history proves that the most important investments a community makes are often the ones you can’t see.
Sources include: WHCA interviews, UMass Boston, the Whitman-Hanson Express, the Town of Whitman, some actual human reporting, and AI Deep research tools.



