Water Wizard

As commissioner of Cleveland Water, Alex Margevicius ’81, MS ’83, runs an engineering marvel — one of the oldest, largest, most innovative water works in North America.

By Zachary Lewis
Photos by Roadell Hickman

If ever a person were tailor-made for a job, it may be Alex Margevicius ’81, MS ’83. Asked whether he enjoys his work, Cleveland’s longtime Commissioner of Water responds with a huge, warm smile, one that suggests the answer is obvious.

As a civil and systems engineer trained at the Case School of Engineering, Margevicius thrills to the post’s many challenges and rewards. For him, though, 39 years of bringing clean, potable water to 1.4 million people daily in his hometown has been more than a living. It’s been, and remains, a calling.

“It’s a noble thing we do,” says Margevicius, embracing his fellow civil engineers in the sentiment. “This career has been so fulfilling. We’ve accomplished a lot of major things. Looking back, I’d be hard pressed to say I’d do anything differently.” Greater Cleveland and its residents probably could not have asked for better.

Customers have their complaints with any utility, and Cleveland Water is no exception. A dozen years ago, the division’s reputation was badly damaged by widespread billing errors and poor customer service. But that was before Margevicius ascended to the commissioner’s office. Much of those earlier problems were erased by automation and professionalism. Margevicius, meanwhile, brought an engineer’s devotion to a vast and essential infrastructure. Knowledgeable observers say his work is national class.

First, about that good Cleveland name. It’s Lithuanian and it’s pronounced like “mar-GAV-i-chus.” His sister, a teacher, tells her students to think of “more cabbages.”

Under Margevicius, the water system serving Northeast Ohio has distinguished itself not only as one of the largest in the nation but also as one of the most reliable and most space- and cost-efficient, boasting purity markers equal to or surpassing those of many larger metro areas

Meet alex Margevicius

Title: Commissioner of Water, City of Cleveland
Tenure: In 39 years with the Cleveland Water Department, he has worked as a civil engineer, chief civil engineer, consulting engineer, assistant commissioner of engineering and, since 2011, Commissioner of Water
Case degrees: bachelor’s of civil engineering, 1981; master’s of systems engineering, 1983
Home: Cleveland’s Old Brooklyn neighborhood
Quote: “It’s a noble thing we do.”

Certain cities in the Midwest – think Flint, Michigan – have struggled to provide residents safe, clean water. Cleveland, meanwhile, thanks to effective filtering and diligent pipe management spearheaded by Margevicius, has seen lead levels drop by a factor of ten — from 23 parts per billion (ppb) in the early 1990s to about 2.3 ppb today. Meanwhile, the system continues to enjoy the absence of dreaded “forever chemicals.”

At the same time, as any tour of its facilities makes clear, Cleveland Water has modernized considerably. Embracing advances in technology, the network under Margevicius has doubled the efficiency of its filtering, without having to build new facilities, and improved its ability to detect and repair leaks, the bane of every water system.

“We are very fortunate as a city and a county,” says Clevelander Dario Gasparini, professor emeritus of civil and environmental engineering at the Case School of Engineering and one of the commissioner’s former teachers.

“[Margevicius] has been a great steward of what earlier engineers before him achieved and remained enthusiastic for his work. That’s very unusual in a public servant.”

What Margevicius has accomplished is no mean feat, especially in light of the scope and age of Cleveland’s water system. What began in the 1850s with the direct distribution of untreated lake water to city residents evolved into a vast network spanning multiple counties and requiring expertise in chemistry and systems engineering and no small degree of political savoir-faire.

Consider the facts: The system Margevicius oversees is more than 150 years old and encompasses roughly 640 square miles of land, 5,300 miles of pipes, 80,000 fire hydrants, and several reservoirs, storage tanks, and towers, including the 135 million gallon Baldwin reservoir, believed to be the second largest covered treated-water reservoir in the world. The department provides some 60 million gallons of potable water a day to customers across Northeast Ohio.

When they were built, and still empty, Cleveland’s underground water reservoirs looked like cathedrals, giant caverns supported by enormous pillars in perfect grids.

It all starts in Lake Erie, five miles offshore and 50 feet underwater, at what is known as the Kirtland Crib….a popular scuba diving destination.

“Water systems can be large-scale and extremely complex and difficult to manage, control, and maintain,” says Ken Loparo, PhD ’77, the recently retired Arthur L. Parker Professor in the Case School of Engineering. “Alex, though, has the unique abilities and characteristics to think through all these levels of complexity and work his way through them. He’s done a masterful job of putting all the pieces together and making it all work.”

The adjective “complex” only begins to describe the system. Even in an age of advanced technology, the way Cleveland draws and cleans water from Lake Erie and then distributes it across a region nearly two-thirds the size of Rhode Island approaches amazing.

CRAFTING DRINKING WATER

It all starts in Lake Erie, five miles offshore and 50 feet underwater, at what is known as the Kirtland Crib. At this uncommonly far, deep point – a popular scuba diving destination – the water entering Cleveland’s system is naturally cleaner than it might be at other points in the lake.

From there, water is pumped uphill to one of four treatment plants: Crown, Nottingham, Baldwin, or Garrett Morgan. The latter, built in 1916 when the city began treating and cleaning water, is the oldest and able to treat up to 150 million gallons per day. Next oldest is Baldwin, an iconic structure on the city’s east side, which is able to treat 165 million gallons per day. It turns 100 in September 2025, when a centennial celebration is planned.

“We take it [Baldwin] for granted, but we shouldn’t,” says Gasparini, who worked with Margevicius to have the facility named a National Civil Engineering Landmark by the American Society of Civil Engineers.

At Baldwin and the other three facilities, the real work of filtering and treating begins. Guiding a tour of the plant’s control center and long rows of treatment tanks, Margevicius delights in detailing the large-scale but highly intricate process through which contaminants are eliminated both physically and chemically.

“Even as an undergrad, I remember he demonstrated real interest in water management, in having and delivering a safe water supply,” Loparo said. “That was unusual in such a young man.”"

At early points in the treatment process, chemicals are added that bond to unwanted finer particles, making them large enough settle out. During a sedimentation phase, water moves extremely slowly through large concrete tanks, where heavier organic matter sinks. Later stages entail passing water through physical membranes of coal and sand, as in an aquarium filter, thereby removing finer particles.

Chlorine is then added and allowed to remain in contact with water in the reservoir six to eight hours, before distribution. Fluoride is put in near the end, at levels dictated by Ohio law. Last in the process, Margevicius says, is orthophosphate, a food-grade additive that creates a protective coating on the inside of pipes. It is this which is largely responsible for Cleveland’s low lead levels.

This clean, treated water then enters the distribution system, which consists of nine districts, each with its own pumps and storage units. Water pressure within a given district decreases with elevation; The closer a location is to a pump, the higher the pressure. However, one can be in a higher-pressure district and yet be at a higher elevation than a neighbor in a lower district and still have higher pressure than the neighbor.

Fundamentally, not counting certain technological upgrades, Cleveland’s method of cleaning, treating, and distributing water hasn’t changed much since the days of Baldwin founder Joseph Elms – mostly because it hasn’t needed to. “It’s tried and true,” Margevicius says proudly.

“It still works extremely well.”

Cleveland water wonders

Cleveland Water is the largest supplier of drinking water in Ohio and the 10th largest municipal water system in America.
Founded in 1856, the system provides drinking water to 1.4 million residential, commercial, and industrial customers in 80 communities across six counties in Northeast Ohio.
The Baldwin Reservoir, at 135 million gallons, is believed to be the second largest covered treated-water reservoir in the world.
Lake Erie assures Cleveland a virtually unlimited supply of fresh water, an estimated 127 trillion gallons.
Drink up. The system pumps an average 60 million gallons of water a day but has the capacity to pump 90 million gallons more.

Chemist Albert Gutierrez tests a water sample for trace metals at the Garrett Morgan Water Treatment Plant, where water quality is tested constantly.

DRAWN TO THE LAKE

The same might be said of Margevicius, whose longstanding passion for water also long predates his career in Cleveland, which began in 1985, as a civil engineer. Practically from day one as a student at Case Institute of Technology, Margevicius was set on working for the public good.

For this, he credits his father. Math and science had always been the young man’s strong suits, but it was his father’s career in construction – adopted upon fleeing Europe during World War II – that sparked his interest in civil engineering.

At Case, where he blazed the way for several of his siblings, Margevicius studied environmental systems. This might have led him in any number of directions, but he already had his sights set on one thing: Lake Erie, just a few miles north of campus.

“Even as an undergrad, I remember he demonstrated real interest in water management, in having and delivering a safe water supply,” Loparo said. “That was unusual in such a young man.”

Graduate studies at Case with civil engineering professor Soroosh Sorooshian soon followed. In that program, water was just one of several fundamental systems Margevicius studied, but it was the one to which he gravitated.

Even then, water was “my dream job,” Margevicius recalled.

Sorooshian, today a professor of civil engineering at the University of California Irvine, had no qualms nurturing his student’s singular interest. What he saw in Margevicius was someone possessed not only of the technical knowhow to lead a major municipal water system but also the necessary drive and interpersonal skills.

“It takes the right person to see [water] as their future,” Sorooshian said, shortly before a reunion with Margevicius in Anaheim, California. “It’s not the easiest thing to do. But he obviously had the strengths, the personality, and the ability to negotiate to do a really good job there.”

Alex Margevicius and Gerald Kinzel, the plant manager, inspect a control panel for a filter in the Garrett Morgan Water Treatment Plant.

Part of the job is community relations. The commissioner welcomed the public and the Sugardale Hot Dog Mascots to its annual Cleveland Water Open House in May.

BIG CHALLENGES LOOM

As a printed list, what Margevicius has accomplished to date spans nine pages. He’s found and repaired hundreds of leaks; secured and prepared the water system for all types of emergencies; expanded the system’s territory dramatically; launched Cleveland’s automatic meter reading program; and done much to educate consumers about lead.

This, though, pales in comparison to what’s yet to be done, and in fact needs to be done, as the department girds for a changing environment.

The quest for a better system of detecting leaks continues, and indeed will never end. In addition to “listening” for breaks acoustically, the traditional method, the department has begun experimenting with satellite imagery and artificial intelligence, in collaboration with Professor Bill Yu and the Department of Civil and Environmental Engineering, in hopes of discovering leaks earlier, before they become breaks.

Also ongoing: the slow process of replacing lead pipes. Currently, 15 miles of pipe are being replaced every year, at a cost of $25 million. Additionally, Cleveland has begun aggressively replacing lead service lines, at a cost of $30 million per year. At that rate, the process will take 30 years and cost perhaps a billion dollars, prompting many across the country to wonder if the pace will be accelerated.

“It’s a huge open question as to how we get it done,” Margevicius said.

More challenging, and potentially more urgent, are the tightening federal regulations around “forever chemicals” and microplastics. The former, widely present elsewhere, could appear in Cleveland’s water system at any time. The latter, meanwhile, are already “across the globe, in every body of water,” Margevicius said.

This has led him to watch with great interest a team of young Case engineers who are developing and testing a microplastics filter for home washing machines. (We last wrote about CLEANR in the winter 2024 edition of Case Alumnus.)

“It’s very much a changing landscape right now, but we think we’re well positioned,” Margevicius said. “We’re learning something new every day. I tell newer workers if they’re bored, it’s their fault.”

Margevicius himself has never been bored. Not for a minute. Nearly 40 years into a demanding, high profile, and time-consuming career, he still regards his position at Cleveland Water as his dream job, one delivering satisfaction far more rewarding than the larger paycheck he might have earned in other lines of engineering.

In truth, said Gasparini, that’s what makes him a model to future generations. Margevicius, he said, “has been a great steward of what earlier engineers before him achieved. He embodies our core value, the civil engineering ideal of public service.”

Zachary Lewis is a former award-wining reporter for The Plain Dealer and the communications manager for the Cleveland Institute of Music. To comment on this story, please email the editor at casealum@casealum.org.