The following is an extended version of the article that appears in our September 2026 issue.
The James River Association’s James A. Buzzard River Education Center, near Dock Street Park in Richmond (Photo by Jay Paul)
In the mid-1970s, the James River’s health reached an all-time low. Following decades of industrial activities, the Kepone chemical dump of 1975 seemed like a headstone. Workers at the Hopewell manufacturing plant fell ill and pollutants pervaded every ecological crevice, prompting a 13-year state ban on fishing. The river that for centuries served as a central means of food, travel, defense and culture seemed hopelessly desecrated. Despite this, local citizens banded together to give it a voice and advocate for solutions.
Enter the James River Association.
What officially began as the Lower James River Association in 1976 grew into a coalition spanning from the headwaters to the tidal areas. Through buffer restoration, organized cleanups, community education, lobbying and collaborating with other environmental groups, the JRA has for 50 years played a pivotal role in restoring the river to a hub of life and recreation.
Bill Street, president of JRA since 2005 (Photo courtesy James River Association)
Bill Street, president of the JRA, took on his role in 2005 with a team of five; today, the organization has more than 50 employees. Early in Street’s tenure, the JRA launched its first State of the James report, a biennial grading of the river’s overall health. The James earned its first grade above a C in in 2015, a massive improvement after being considered one of the country’s most polluted rivers decades earlier.
According to Street, the organization’s most impactful battle has been in controlling stormwater and wastewater runoff. About 70% of Virginia’s runoff makes its way into the James River and is expected to increase as more land is developed in the surrounding region, but treatment upgrades in recent years have significantly reduced pollution and kept the river’s annual grade high.
Addressing agricultural runoff is another top priority for improving the river’s health. Thanks in part to the association’s pressure on legislature and state agencies, new cost-share programs have helped farmers adopt sustainable practices and restore buffers that filter runoff before it reaches the water, reducing agricultural pollutants in the river. “If we don't figure out how we can live and grow on the landscape without killing our streams and the river, we'll lose all the progress we've made,” Street says.
Despite wins in water quality and the resurgence of Atlantic sturgeon — once thought to be permanently gone — more is needed to ensure the river’s survival, Street says. Inevitable byproducts of population growth such as increased stormwater runoff and energy usage, along with the overarching threat of climate change, have stalled the river’s upward ecological trajectory and have the nonprofit paddling against the current into the future.
“The problems that we're facing now are just going to be magnified and amplified,” says Shawn Ralston, the JRA’s vice president of programs. “Populations are growing. We have land that is converting away from undeveloped to developed. We have rainier weather events. We have more flooding… it is going to continue to get more difficult.”
Street says the largest risk transcends science. “The No. 1 threat to the James River is apathy and people feeling like they can’t make a difference,” he says.
Education is still among the JRA’s most powerful tools to engage citizens. Ralston says the group’s educational programs include field trips, volunteer days and youth engagement that prioritizes Title I schools, which often lack the capacity for extensive hands-on learning.
“Education is the future of what happens in our river,” Ralston says. “What we’re teaching our children today leads to change 10, 20 years from now. … There’s a ripple effect there.”
On Sept. 12, the JRA hosted its third annual Ecofest at the James A. Buzzard River Education Center in Richmond. The free gathering lets the community interact with the river and its protectors. Attendees tried paddling, shopped for eco-friendly products and even ate fish tacos made from invasive species.
“It’s a way for us to connect our neighbors and community members to the river, to educate about the river and water conservation, and also get people out on the James,” says Britt Kenrick, JRA donor engagement manager.
Street and Ralston look at the next half-century of river advocacy with cautious optimism, but note that community involvement — whether through planting native species, volunteering, contacting elected representatives or simply educating themselves on the river’s importance — is key to further advances.
“We just have to have the will and the commitment to do it,” Street says. “And if we do that, then my hope would be that the change in 50 years still has sturgeon breaching and bald eagles soaring and people really [being] able to enjoy the river.”
