Old Town is where Greenwood began, and its drains carry the full weight of that seniority. The homes around Madison Avenue and the old commercial core were plumbed in the clay-tile era, when a sewer lateral was a line of short clay sections jointed by hand, and the street trees planted for shade were silver maples chosen because they grew fast. Both decisions matured together. The clay is now a century old; the maples are enormous; and the relationship between them — roots in every joint — is the defining drain story of the neighbourhood.
It would be wrong to call it a failing system. Clay tile that has survived a hundred winters has a kind of honesty, and most Old Town lines still do their work daily. But they do it at the pleasure of the roots, and their maintenance rhythm is set by the growing season, not by the calendar of the house above them. Old Town ownership, done well, is a partnership: camera surveys on an interval, root work before it becomes flood work, and relining held in reserve for the laterals whose joints have finally given up the argument.
