The Illegal Curb Cuts That Changed How Tucson Uses Rainwater

Brad Lancaster knew he was breaking the rules when he picked up a handsaw one Sunday morning in 1998. He cut six openings into the concrete curb outside his Tucson home, hoping rainwater would flow into the soil instead of disappearing down a storm drain.

Nobody from the city seemed to notice at first. What began as a quiet experiment would eventually help change Tucson’s approach to rainwater harvesting, turning an unauthorized curb modification into an accepted part of the city’s water strategy.

The Sunday Morning Curb Job That Started It

Lancaster was not trying to damage the street. He wanted runoff traveling along the gutter to spill into the strip of land between the curb and sidewalk, where he and his neighbors had begun planting native trees.

The problem was the way the street had been designed. Rain landed on the pavement, flowed toward the gutter, and was carried away, while Lancaster believed that water could instead be used to support the landscape around it.

He later explained the situation plainly: “When we started this, it was illegal in Tucson to cut the street curbs.” So Lancaster chose a Sunday morning, when he expected nobody from the city to be watching, and made the cuts himself.

The Idea Was Simple

The openings allowed water running down the street to turn sideways and soak into the planted areas. The curb still directed traffic and separated the road from the sidewalk, but it now had another function.

The experiment challenged a basic assumption behind the neighborhood’s drainage system. Instead of treating rainfall as something to remove as quickly as possible, Lancaster wanted to keep it close to where it had fallen.

The Idea Came From Zimbabwe

Lancaster’s approach did not begin in Tucson. Three years before cutting the curb, he had traveled to Zimbabwe, where he learned about water harvesting from farmer Zephaniah Phiri Maseko.

Maseko later became a mentor to Lancaster, who brought those lessons back to Arizona. In 1996, Lancaster helped start a volunteer tree-planting group in Tucson’s Dunbar/Spring neighborhood, and the curb experiment followed two years later.

The goal was to connect rainfall with the landscape instead of letting the water leave the neighborhood. Lancaster’s six openings were a small piece of a much larger idea about capturing water where it could be useful.

Tucson Had Rain, But It Was Losing It

Tucson receives roughly 11 inches of rain each year, which works out to less than an inch per month on average. Lancaster’s concern was that the city’s streets were designed to move much of that water away rather than allow it to soak into the surrounding soil.

He told a reporter that the prevailing approach was to send water into storm drains or allow it to evaporate. The source story also noted that even during droughts, Tucson can receive more rain over a year than its homes and businesses use.

That made the curb experiment more than an unusual gardening trick. Lancaster was testing whether existing urban infrastructure could be adapted to retain some of the water the city was already receiving.

Then Lancaster Told The City What He Had Done

For about three years, the curb openings remained in place without the city apparently intervening. Lancaster eventually decided to disclose the experiment himself rather than keep working around the rules.

He began engaging with city officials and pushing for a legal way to use similar water-harvesting methods. As he later put it, “And then slowly grew it. And then when we had a viable system going, then we approached the city to legalize it.”

By then, the idea had something concrete behind it. The trees were growing, the runoff was being captured, and Lancaster could show officials what happened when the water stayed on the block.

Three Years Of Work Helped Change The Rules

Legalization was not immediate. Lancaster spent roughly three more years working with Tucson’s Transportation Department while continuing to promote the idea in his neighborhood.

He and his neighbors went door to door and attended neighborhood meetings to explain what they were doing. The effort gradually moved the concept beyond one property and toward a system other residents could use.

By the mid-2000s, Tucson had established a permitting path for water-harvesting curb cuts. Something Lancaster had once done with a saw on a Sunday morning could now be carried out through an official process.

The Experiment Became A Demonstration

That transition changed the nature of the idea. Lancaster was no longer simply asking the city to trust an unconventional proposal because he believed it would work.

He had already created a working example. The evidence was sitting beside the street in the form of growing trees and captured runoff, giving officials something tangible to evaluate.

Tucson Took The Idea Much Further

The curb-cut system was only part of the city’s later approach to water harvesting. On October 14, 2008, Tucson’s mayor and council adopted Ordinance 10597, requiring commercial developments to show how half of a site’s annual landscape watering would be supplied by harvested rain.

The University of Arizona’s Water Resources Research Center records the measure as the first ordinance of its kind in the nation. It took effect on June 1, 2010, giving rainwater harvesting a formal place in the city’s development rules.

Years later, Tucson also created Storm to Shade. Approved in 2019 and launched in 2021, the program uses a surcharge on water use to build and maintain stormwater basins on public property, with priority given to hotter areas with less tree cover.

Residents can also access a separate Tucson Water rebate of up to $2,000 for qualifying rainwater-harvesting systems. The rebate has conditions, including a class, an approved plan, and an inspection before payment.

The City Eventually Put The Instructions On Paper

Blue Baldwin, who runs Storm to Shade, described the connection between the program and Lancaster’s earlier work to Upworthy. She said the initiative “truly is the city’s adoption and institutionalization and elevation of all of the pioneering work that Brad did over years and years, below the radar but then bringing it to the city.”

Baldwin also pointed to a detail that captures just how far the idea had traveled. “Brad has been cutting curbs for a very long time. He did it so well with the technology he had available to him. And now we have standard details and construction documents that actually tell construction contractors exactly how to cut a curb,” she said.

The city had moved from an improvised experiment to formal construction standards. The person who once needed a saw and a quiet Sunday morning had helped inspire a system with official plans.

More Than 1,700 Trees Now Stand In The Neighborhood

The results can be seen across Dunbar/Spring. Since 1996, the Dunbar/Spring Neighborhood Foresters have planted more than 1,700 native food- and medicine-bearing trees along public rights-of-way.

According to the source story, earthworks supporting those plantings capture more than a million gallons of street runoff each year. Lancaster’s own small lot and the public ground beside it capture around 100,000 gallons annually.

The trees have also changed the streetscape itself. Lancaster described the result as “the neighborhood rain-irrigated food forest street,” where street runoff helps water trees that provide shade, cooling, and food for people living nearby.

Six Holes Became A Blueprint For A City

Lancaster’s experiment could easily have ended with a warning from city officials and a demand to repair the curb. Instead, the idea survived long enough to become part of Tucson’s approach to managing rainwater.

The progression is unusually clear: one resident tested an idea, demonstrated that it worked, worked with neighbors and officials, and eventually watched the city turn the concept into permits, programs, and construction documents.

The most striking part is how small the original intervention was. Six holes in a curb changed where rainwater went, and the trees that followed made the consequences visible.

What once flowed away from the neighborhood can now help sustain the trees growing along its streets. In Tucson, a curb designed to get rid of water became part of a system designed to keep it.