Back in the 1940s, we never thought much about whether our rivers were polluted.

Yes, the Savannah River was dirty. Right down the street from City Hall, raw sewage oozed out and joined whatever the merchant ships coming into our harbor might have brought in and dumped out. Those were not Baby Ruth bars floating along with the tide.

But those were anxious times and there were more important things to think about, memories of the 1929 Wall Street crash still in place replaced by adjustments to the surreal boomtown economic atmosphere of World War II.

And we retreated to Bluffton for a taste of serenity, just as earlier Savannahians had done more than a hundred years before, when in 1825 there was a particularly virulent yellow fever epidemic and heads of households sought a healthy place for their families to summer.

Healthy was the key word. True to its name, Bluffton sat high on the river, only a few small islands away from the Atlantic Ocean. Afternoon breezes came in with the tide on hot summer afternoons, and there was the river, the tranquil River Maye, spelled with an “e” in those days.

Not really a river in the purest sense of the word, but an estuary with clear salty water coming in from the sea going a few miles or so inland and traveling back out to Calibogue Sound.

To those who came to spend time on her banks, the May was a friendly river, no strong currents.

Not to say that on days when the northeast wind blew hard against the tide, there weren’t white caps topping decent-sized waves and there wasn’t a period of about an hour or two when the outgoing tide was swift and children were warned to be careful, but mostly there has always been a gentleness about the May.

The only really big fish are the dolphins and they have never been known to be mean or aggressive. There are sharks, yes, but small ones not interested in swimmers.

Crab and shrimp are plentiful. There are sandbars and small beaches and mysterious sloughs and magical miniature islands to explore.

And in those early days, no one worried about trashing the river.

Simply because we didn't, and yet in a rather innocent way, we did.

You have to understand that in those days Bluffton was a summer place. There were few permanent residents. Like others who came from Garnett, Estill, Port Wentworth, Barnwell, Hampton, Charleston, Allendale, we came when school let out for vacation the end of May and closed down the cottages the first Sunday after LaborDay.

Bill Corbin, self-appointed waste management person, came by when he felt like it and picked up the garbage in our kitchen, loaded it onto his boat, the Stumpchopper, along with stuff from the other families he took care of.

Standing tall, he sculled his way across the river into the sunset where he threw it all into the marsh at the edge of Palmetto Bluff. And we burned trash, either in a 50-gallon barrel out in the yard or in a pot belly stove that doubled as a hot water heater.

Somewhere over there deep in the pluff mud is my collection of antique bottles I got tired of dusting and sent on its way with Bill.

And bottles, whisky, soft drink, the lovely blue Milk of Magnesia, Hadacol, glass of any sort was the only thing that stayed in the river and didn't disintegrate. There were no plastics, Styrofoam, no synthetics. Even cigarettes had no filters to litter the ground.

Our canned food came in tins that rusted away. Paper dissolved.

So what happened? Why is the river such a mess today? How did we get to the point that we have to police the May?

Silly question. People are careless. They simply don't think throwing this or that into the river, as large as it is, will make a difference. Or maybe they simply don't think at all.

To those of us who cherish this piece of the Lowcountry, we make sure nothing insoluble goes into the river. Simple.

Wish it were so.

Debbie Szpanka, public information officer for the town of Bluffton, was kind enough to forward information from Beth Lewis, a stormwater technician who coordinates the biannual May River Cleanups that with a slew of volunteers have been so successful.

This Saturday, citizens who care are invited to gather at the Oyster Factory at the end of Wharf Street to participate in the spring cleanup event.

Come early; 9 a.m. is good. Plenty of parking places. Bring your kayak or boat. Call Marshgrass Adventures at 843-684-3296 to reserve a kayak if you don't have one.

All supplies, including gloves, bags, vests and water, will be provided as well as sunscreen and bug spray. For those who don't want to go out on the river, there is a way for you to help. Starbucks will be on site with coffee.

It is comforting to see how many people are contributing to this endeavor: the town of Bluffton, American Rivers, Palmetto Pride, Keep Beaufort County Beautiful, Beaufort County Solid Waste and Recycling, Hardeeville Walmart, Experience Green, Green Packaging, Lowcountry Stormwater Partners, the Rotary Club of Bluffton, i2 Recycle, Coastal Kingdom, Levi's Outlet and Port Royal Sound Foundation.

This is the 18th year that volunteers have met to remove litter, debris, discarded appliances and abandoned boats from the May River and Bluffton historic district.

This is our river. You are needed.

