For most of history, water has been connected to power.

In the earliest days of our area, water carried logs down the Lehigh River. It was a source of sustenance for the earliest of settlers.

When mining came along, entrepreneurs with names like White and Hazard used the river to float coal that fueled industry and warmed homes to our south.

Trains took over the task, but the need for water remained, especially in the steel producing cities like Bethlehem.

The Lehigh Valley was growing fast, but the river near it couldn’t guarantee a clean, drinkable supply.

In the late 1930s, Bethlehem became the state’s first city with a municipal entity charged with filling the need for clean water.

They looked to the north, and for nearly a century, water has been flowing from Carbon County into the ledgers of governments downriver while residents here are left with an empty bucket.

Essentially, there’s a one-way pipeline through Blue Mountain over county land, carrying water the county might use and filling the needs of Bethlehem Water Authority.

There’s another one-way pipe that carries water from the Lehigh near Rockport into the Hazleton City Authority system.

Together, the two entities control thousands of acres of terrain, funnel away water and return almost nothing to the local communities that guard the watershed they profit from.

So when the county’s commissioners met recently, some people wondered if the long-standing complaints were just politics as usual.

Instead, history shows the commissioners are right and ripe for some type of reckoning that boxed the county into a deal without any benefits.

Bethlehem’s land empire, thousands of acres that feed the Wild Creek and Penn Forest reservoirs, are tax-exempt because they’re owned by another government entity.

They send the county a check for around $22,000 that it splits with local townships and school districts. County coffers get a whopping $6,118.

That money hasn’t increased since the mid-1980s. It’s not enough for a month’s worth of fuel for emergency vehicles or enough to fund a classroom aide.

But legally, it’s all the county is permitted to receive.

Thanks to the efforts of two Lehigh Valley lawmakers, Act 194 of 1967 kept the water flowing to Bethlehem but shut off the valve when it comes to property taxes.

The law, tailored to protect Bethlehem’s land holdings, didn’t mandate any payments in lieu of taxes to Carbon County.

Simply, it said that Bethlehem may offer money instead of saying it shall make payments.

Carbon County wasn’t at the table when the deal was cut in Harrisburg and in effect, its residents were sold down the river.

Carbon can’t reassess the land, demand a better valuation, can’t threaten taxation or can’t impose fees.

Meanwhile, Bethlehem has a chunk of tax-immune watershed and a state law that guarantees the bill never goes up.

It’s possible the commissioners could try to negotiate a better price. Bethlehem could — as an act of goodwill — increase its payment.

Bethlehem has all the leverage, and goodwill usually isn’t part of major financial decisions.

The only chance the commissioners have by asking is to increase awareness and public pressure to force the folks in Harrisburg to see how outdated Act 149 is.

A newer insult for Carbon County comes from its neighbor to the west, Hazleton City Authority.

The HCA pumps Lehigh River water to a treatment plant in Hazleton that supplies 15 municipalities as far away as Trenton and Park Place in Schuylkill County.

The water comes from the Delaware basin and exits into the Susquehanna.

And for that opportunity, HCA pays Carbon County absolutely nothing. Carbon County doesn’t get as much as a toothpick as it absorbs the costs of providing emergency services. More recently, some of its residents are forced to swallow a 65% rate increase that helps pave streets and fund a homestead exemption for taxpayers in Hazleton.

Imagine that.

Carbon County folks’ water bills reduce the tax burden for property owners in Hazleton.

Over the years, there have been some challenges to both Bethlehem and Hazleton, but their outcomes haven’t favored the county.

People say that trying to recoup at least some compensation is water over the dam.

But the conditions haven’t changed.

Emergency services, schools and infrastructure suffer from the tax revenue these acres should generate.

The way it is now is an insult and exploits the county’s resources dressed up as managing a public utility.

And the state law that allows it to happen needs to be changed.

Our lawmakers need to fix things.

Carbon County has carried the burden of providing water for its neighbors for almost 100 years. It guards the well and protects the land.

And payment for doing that is long overdue.

ED SOCHA | tneditor@tnonline.com

Ed Socha is a retired newspaper editor with more than 45 years’ experience in community journalism.