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“I keep going over a sentence. I nag it, gnaw it, pat and flatter it.”
- Janet Flanner |
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A Bucket, A Washpan, A Night Without Indoor Plumbing |
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| August 27, 1986 |
Overnight guests in Mary Lancaster's home just outside La Plata town limits are treated to the best she has to offer. When they ask to bathe, they are handed a clean washcloth and a plastic washpan. When they ask to brush their teeth, they are shown to a yellow plastic bucket that doubles as her toilet.
The only running water in Lancaster's home trickles from the kitchen spigot, courtesy of a hose connected to a neighbor's well. Lancaster's way of living is not unique in Charles County. It is shared by an estimated 1,368 county residents whose homes have either inadequate indoor plumbing or no plumbing at all.
In order to find out what life is like in these homes, reporter Debra Murphey spent 17 hours with Lancaster and her family.
Mary Lancaster begins the day, as she does every day, by toting a yellow plastic bucket to her outhouse.
Although repeatedly doused with disinfectant, the bucket emits a powerful stench. It contains the accumulated feces and urine from her family of five.
For Lancaster, who has lived all of her 52 years without indoor plumbing, the bucket is a convenience. She came up with the idea years ago to eliminate constant trips to the outhouse.
A makeshift bathroom set up in a back room of the house is used by family members throughout the day. In the summer the stench worsens and she frequently has to pour household disinfectant into the bucket. Lancaster says "the number of bowel movements" dictate how often the bucket must be emptied.
"We want you to spend the night with someone who doesn't have indoor plumbing," my editor said. The words run through my head as I anticipate- dread is a better word - using a bucket as a toilet.
How would it feel to use a bucket collecting waste throughout the day? No way to flush away the contents; no way to rid the room of the stench. It is nearly 100 degrees outside, and the hot summer sun beating through the window seems to intensify the smell.
A toilet is not the only convenience lacking in the home Lancaster shares with her two grown children and two grandchildren. There is no bathroom, no shower, no bathroom sink.
Lancaster says she probably spends an hour or two a day emptying buckets, disinfecting waste and boiling water. Her daily bath consists of heating water on the gas stove and sponging her skin with a washcloth.
After dumping the bucket, Lancaster warms water for me on the stove and then grabs a clean washcloth and a towel out of a drawer. "You can go into the bedroom and wash yourself," she says.
I had rushed home from work the evening before to take one last shower. During the night in Lancaster's home, I kept thinking I would have loved a shower. And then I thought about all the times people use a shower. To wash, relax, cool down.
After washing, I find my toothbrush and toothpaste and inquired about brushing my teeth. "You can go brush over the bucket - I've emptied it," she says.
So l do. And that - as she has done for 52 years - is my morning routine.
Lancaster moved into her house in the late 1950s. A life-long county resident, she lived in the predominantly black neighborhood with her aunt and uncle. Following her aunt's death and her uncle's bout with a severe illness in 1968, the deed for the house and the land was turned over to her for $1.
The years of not having plumbing have not been easy. But, she says, she has gotten used to it.
About a year ago her neighbors granted Lancaster permission to use their well water and a hose was installed underground her home so the family could have cold running water in the kitchen. Before that, they had to pump the water. Lancaster recalls times in the winter when the pump froze and water had to be toted from neighbors' homes.
Lancaster's daughter Michelle, one of two who live with her, says she was embarrassed when she was young because they did not have indoor plumbing. The La Plata High School graduate says it was difficult to ask girlfriends over to spend the night, and she was hesitant when boyfriends came over.
Michelle, or "Shelly," is 21 years old and works for the Government Services Administration. She says she is not very happy about having an article in the newspaper informing people that they do not have indoor plumbing, but if it helps her mother, she can accept it.
Lancaster says she has always had two wishes: to live long enough that she would witness all her children graduate from high school and to acquire indoor plumbing. All the children - Debbie, 27; Lisa, 26; Roxanne, 24; and Michelle - have graduated and are working.
But Lancaster jests that if she got indoor plumbing she "couldn't take it. I'd die of shock."
Despite the lack of plumbing, she says life has been "good." Pictures of her children and six grandchildren stand atop a large color television in her living room.
Although Lancaster's manner is quiet and gentle, her conviction to one day have indoor plumbing is overwhelming.
"I joined SMASH (Southern Maryland Area Self Help) a year ago and try to make every meeting," Lancaster says. She says she joined the civic organization because it has helped so many other people, and most of the members have goals like her own.
Ironically, the home where Lancaster lives on Oak Avenue in La Plata is within yards of town property, but she and her neighbors are not eligible for town water.
Lancaster is quick to point out that all but one of the houses surrounding hers have their own wells. "Most everyone on the street has private wells," she says. "I have been trying and trying so hard - nearly for 16 years - to get indoor plumbing."
Lancaster says the neighbors were once interested in joining the town. But, one-by-one the residents' land passed perculation tests that enabled them to install septic systems and drill their own wells.
Lancaster's land has not passed a perc test, and she is one of the few still pursuing annexation. Because Milton Sommers Middle School is within earshot of her home, Lancaster does not understand why the town can't assist her in gaining indoor plumbing.
According to town manager Zak Kreback, Sommers taps into the town system on an individual line, and the school's proximity to Lancaster's house is irrelevant. Because she lives outside the town, he says, there is nothing La Plata can do for her.
Under the guidance of SMASH, members without indoor plumbing were asked to write Gov. Harry Hughes a letter requesting that he include additional funding in the Supplemental Budget for the Indoor Plumbing Program.
"I was supposed to tell him how I feel without running water," she said.
"That's easy, it's been 52 years," she reminds.
I try to multiply my visit by seven. One day multiplied by seven equals one week without indoor plumbing. Could I stand it? Before my stay I had worried that I wouldn't be able to live through even those 17 hours.
But what I imagined before I reached my assignment and how I feel as I leave are two different things. I was with this family for only a night and part of a day. It is impossible to imagine what 52 years without indoor plumbing would be like.
Lancaster remembers when the grandchildren who live with her saw a toilet for the first time. "They'd go next door, and they think it's (the toilet) something to play with. It was something they hadn't had. They kept on saying "I've got to go to the bathroom. I've got to go to the bathroom.'"
Lancaster babysits Shelly and Roxanne's children during the day as well as Debbie and Lisa's children - who live in a house with indoor plumbing. Lancaster says, "They say 'Grandma, why don't you have this, why don't you have that?'"
"When they say that, I tell them, 'Grandma hasn't been able to get those things, but I'm trying.'"
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