Articles

By Stephanie Potoka

As early as middle school, I knew that math came easily for me. Around that time, my dad showed me an issue of National Geographic pertaining to a rising environmental issue that a relative was studying. This was also in the days of only three TV channels out in the country (four, if we rotated the antennae). So when I was home sick from school, watching the kid-appropriate daytime channel, I discovered a career plan. The show I found, hosted by Jaime Escalante of calculus teaching fame, was about using math in environmental applications. Given my math abilities and growing environmental knowledge, this added up to a concrete and comfortable plan. Was civil engineering on my radar at this point? Not even close. Numbers were too beautiful with their patterns and connections, as evidenced by another lovely TV show of that era, Square One, making the Fibonacci series, tessellations, and code-making both memorable and comprehendible.

As a result, I decided to pursue an undergrad degree in mathematics at Calvin University where some of my classmates were, of course, engineers. I was, however, not pulled into the field yet. My next life choice was grad school for a master’s in industrial and applied mathematics at the University of Minnesota, an introduction to the field of math modeling. Finding this not to be practical enough, I decided to pursue another master’s, this time in civil engineering. Nine years after undergrad, I was the proud holder of two master’s degrees and mom to three. Given the pressures of life, the added constraint of an autoimmune disease, and addition of two more kids, the solution was to spend the next 12 years at home watching construction work in our Chicago and then Grand Rapids neighborhoods with two machine-loving youngsters, while also making time for classroom involvement relating to environmental issues.

Thanks to a civil engineering friend, I started part time at Prein&Newhof as an engineer on the first day that my youngest started full-time school. At the time, I really had no idea what civil engineers did day-to-day, but I happened to land in what P&N considers a “support service,” specifically that of hydraulics and hydrology. To me this is essentially the civil engineering version of industrial and applied modelling all about water, including both water on the landscape and contained within a system of pipes (think drinking water as well as wastewater). There was still a firehose of information, a steep learning curve, and so many questions which my co-workers graciously answered (and continue to answer).

A useful way for me to dive into work was involvement in Water System Reliability Studies. Unbeknownst to the vast population of Michigan residents, communities do this overview examination of their drinking water system every five years. This data-heavy report includes a map of the entire system of watermain, details of storage tanks, pumps, wells, and treatment plants, as well as water-usage related data like total pumping and billing. The other component of the study is flowing hydrants throughout the system, recording the changing pressures and flows, and then bringing the field data back to the office to calibrate the hydraulic model of the system.

To use any computer model, we must trust the reality of its abstraction: that the model does not 100% predict the system, but it gets close enough to be useful. Initial computer models began as text only, simply a list of pipes and associated connections with the program performing all the equation computations of water flow that, for decades, people had done by hand (or slide rule!). Given its ease of use now, with graphics and all, it’s tempting to use the model as a black box with magical answers. Given the iterations of these models that senior professionals have seen, though, we always ask the question “Do the results make sense?” Because sometimes they don’t, and if not, we must find out why. The purpose of the model is to aid in identifying areas of the water distribution system that could use improvement, often with larger diameter pipe or increased pumping capacity. The whole reliability study involves not just the model, spreadsheets, and numbers, but also the fluidity of patterns and connections.

In addition to enjoying the technical components of my job, coming to the profession so late in life has elevated my appreciation of municipal Department of Public Works employees and managers, as well as surveyors, GIS specialists, construction contractors, and all others involved in the work of infrastructure. I always knew that the fundamental building blocks of our first-world luxuries (clean drinking water, treated sanitary sewer systems, roads, bridges, and rainwater management) were taken for granted but had no idea how extensive the work behind them truly is. These building blocks are not perfect, though, as anyone with knowledge of PASER ratings, groundwater contamination, storm water quality, and aging infrastructure would know. There are still uncountably many environmental issues to approach from different angles, but I derive great satisfaction in being part of the integral behind-the-scenes work to maintain and improve infrastructure for local communities. While I now am fully converted to engineer, I am thankful to still be immersed in the beauty of numbers.

by Claire Vellinga, Construction Observation Intern

There are days where I take a step, and for a moment I simply take in the world around me and the space I fill within it. This is when I realize I am no longer a little girl with hopes and dreams. I am a woman with plans that align with my life goals. To be completely honest, I didn’t grow up wanting to be a civil engineer. I didn’t even know it was a career. But I’ve always had a knack for puzzles, logic, and problem-solving games and activities, so it seemed logical to look into engineering. Sitting in my freshman Introduction to Engineering class at Hope College, civil engineering caught my attention. I liked the fact that it seemed tangible. Things you could actually see and touch. However, even then I didn’t really understand how vast the field of opportunity in civil engineering was. It wasn’t until I started my internship at Prein&Newhof after my sophomore year that my curiosity and fascination within civil engineering really took flight.

One of my favorite parts of being on a job site is watching what I see on paper get excavated and constructed. I see it as a whole world underneath the world we know. The underground infrastructure fascinated me. While inspecting on site, I typically just see one small part at a time. But I’ve found it intriguing to look beyond just what is in the hole below me or on the plan set in front of me. Thinking about how everything is connected and carefully designed, calculated, and constructed to serve the needs of our communities is what I’ve found myself interested in.

This summer, I got to watch a live sewer connection. This was an interesting experience for me as it was the first time I had seen anything like it. Before that day, I don’t think I realized how complex and involved an infrastructure update like that can be. Between coordinating bypass pumping and the actual live connection, there was a lot going on. This experience really helped open my eyes to the bigger picture. While I was just looking at a pipe, a whole team of individuals was working both up and downstream to make sure the connection was smooth. That day, I learned a lot about coordination and constructability from a “hands on” perspective.

The “hands on” experience has been one of my favorite parts of interning at P&N. There’s a lot I can learn in the classroom, and from fellow engineers, but as a college intern, it has been extremely useful to actually see the work out in the field. It’s been fun to see things I read in a book, or got lectured on, show up in my field inspections. I’ve learned so much from observing and from asking questions. From basic terminology to phasing and environmental regulations, there is something new to learn every single day.

I’ve interned with the Holland Office’s engineering team for the past two summers, and Ken Bosma, Jonathan Nelson, Lucas Timmer, and Jesse Boogaard have been the best mentors. They answer my daily questions and elaborate further than what I even knew to ask about. From the beginning, they made it clear that no question was a stupid question. There is so much I have yet to learn, and they are more than patient in their explanation and reasoning. This environment made me feel safe to learn, grow, and make mistakes.

At its core, this is why I chose to join Prein&Newhof post-graduation. The work environment the team has created gives me the confidence and support I desire as a new engineer, and I know that I will take this experience and continue to keep learning as I grow in my engineering career here. I’m excited to know that this is a culture and community that I will continue to get to work in every day.

by Paul Reinhold, PLA, LEED AP, NGICP

As a landscape architect, my job is often seen as primarily visual—choosing plants, shaping outdoor spaces, coordinating materials. And while aesthetics do matter, what’s always been more important to me is how people experience a community gathering place. Who feels welcome there? Who can move through it with ease? How does the space represent the community who uses it? These questions have guided my work for decades and are at the heart of something I care about: universal design.

Universal design isn’t just about meeting accessibility requirements or adding a ramp to the corner of a park. It’s a design philosophy that seeks to create spaces that work for everyone. When we apply these principles to public spaces, especially in smaller communities, we open doors (sometimes quite literally) to a better quality of life for more people. When I was invited to work on the design of the Village of Muir’s Sensory Park, it was clear this project would be a meaningful example of universal design in action.

Why Universal Design Matters

Universal design is guided by seven core principles. These help us think beyond minimum requirements and imagine environments that support independence and inclusion for people of all ages and abilities:

• Equitable Use: The design is useful and appealing to people with a range of abilities.
• Flexibility in Use: It accommodates a variety of preferences and needs.
• Simple and Intuitive Use: It’s easy to understand, regardless of a person’s experience or background.
• Perceptible Information: Information is communicated effectively, even if someone’s vision, hearing, or cognition is limited.
• Tolerance for Error: The design reduces risks and minimizes consequences of mistakes.
• Low Physical Effort: It can be used comfortably, with minimal fatigue.
• Size and Space for Approach and Use: It provides appropriate room for access, regardless of body size or mobility device.

I keep these principles in mind on every project, but they took on particular importance in the design of Muir’s new park.

Meeting a Community Where It’s At

The Village of Muir sits just under a square mile in Ionia County and has less than 600 residents. It’s the kind of place where people wave from their porches, where community parks serve as front yards and backyards all in one. Over the years, Prein&Newhof has worked closely with the Village, including helping to acquire funding and to design a new bridge over the Maple River in 2014. That experience laid a foundation of trust, and when the Village set its sights on creating an inclusive park alongside the Fred Meijer Clinton-Ionia-Shiawassee (CIS) Trail, they came back to our team.

The idea for the sensory park had been in the works since the Village’s 2017 Recreation Plan. Through public input and demographic data, it became clear that the community needed a space where everyone, especially those with disabilities, could feel at home. This wasn’t about adding a few inclusive pieces of equipment to an existing park. It was about creating a whole new environment grounded in accessibility, interaction, and sensory experience.

Designing with Intention

The site, directly next to Railroad Street Park and the CIS Trail, gave us a good starting point. But the original plan relied on land not owned by the Village. When the hoped-for easement didn’t come through, we had to adapt by reworking the design to fit within Village property while still holding true to the project’s goals.

It helped that this wasn’t just a park with a single purpose. We included a variety of play types and sensory features: a hillside slide, zipline, multiple textured play areas, a fireplace for gathering, a performance space with grass seating, and even a bike repair station. All of these were designed with accessibility in mind, from the surface materials to the layout of paths and seating. We also ensured that ramps, parking, and resting areas supported a wide range of users—not just children, but parents, grandparents, and anyone else passing through or spending time there.

As we moved forward, we helped the Village apply for the Michigan CDBG Public Gathering Spaces Initiative. This is a highly competitive grant program focused on improving usability, accessibility, and seasonality in spaces that serve low to moderate income populations. In 2024, the Village was awarded $1.2 million to bring the park to life. The funding was a major win, but the budget still required careful coordination. We worked with the low bidder and MEDC to value engineer where needed, always making sure the core vision of accessibility and universal design remained intact.

A Space That Belongs to Everyone

There’s something powerful about watching a design become a real place. In a community like Muir, where resources are limited but people show up for each other, it means even more. This park isn’t just for kids. It’s for the parent with limited mobility who wants to watch their child play up close. It’s for the grandparent who needs a smooth path and a place to rest in the shade. It’s for the child on the autism spectrum who feels more comfortable exploring quiet sensory areas. It’s for visitors on the CIS Trail who stop in to stretch their legs or fix a flat bike tire. It’s for everyone.

That’s what universal design looks like when it’s done well. It doesn’t feel like a set of accommodations tacked on—it feels like a space that simply works for whoever shows up. And in the end, that’s what landscape architecture is really about for me. Designing places that welcome people in, however they move, however they perceive the world, however they connect. I’m proud to have been part of making that vision real for Muir’s community.

by Will Thies, PE

It was the summer of 2016, and I was fresh out of college. Various learning opportunities inside the classroom and in developing countries had strengthened my interest in tackling water-related challenges, particularly water resources, distribution, and management. I had just been hired by Prein&Newhof to work as a General Municipal Engineer, and I was looking forward to applying some of what I had learned.

Shortly before beginning my work, I took a tour of the North Kent Sewer Authority’s PARCC Side Clean Water Plant with some other young engineers from Prein&Newhof. I had toured a couple of water and wastewater treatment plants before, but this was different. I was put face to face with tanks full of hundreds of thousands of membrane filters, pipes labeled “permeate” (something I had never heard of), buildings designed to look like big red barns, a room filled with nothing but large blowers, and much more. I was fascinated, and my eyes were opened to the world of process engineering. A few phone calls later, my plans at Prein&Newhof had changed. Instead of general municipal work, I became the newest member of the process engineering team and began learning about things like flanges, impellers, and plug valves.

What is process engineering?

Even after graduating with a general civil engineering degree, I hadn’t heard the term before. Process engineering is involved with the design of equipment and systems that apply energy to (and sometimes extract energy from) water or wastewater to transport or treat it. After all, water doesn’t flow uphill, and the waste we send down our drains has a habit of remaining waste unless we apply some energy to it.

Process equipment includes pumps, blowers, mechanically cleaned screens, grit removal systems, clarifiers, bioreactors, mixers, aerators, thickeners, digesters, and much more. This equipment is packaged together at facilities such as pump stations and treatment plants. These facilities are all around us, often tucked away by rivers and creeks—out of sight, out of mind. But this typically unseen infrastructure is critical to our communities.

Take pump stations, for example. The purpose of a pump station is to lift wastewater and push it through a force main to a high point where it can return to flowing by gravity. Without them, it would be nearly impossible to convey wastewater over large distances or from low areas to a wastewater treatment plant.

There are all sorts of pump stations in our communities. Some use pumps that you could lift by hand. Others use pumps that are as tall as a giraffe and weigh a few tons. Some pump from one corner of an intersection to another. Others pump up to 20 miles away. Some pump as much water as a garden hose. Others pump enough wastewater to fill an Olympic swimming pool in less than 20 minutes—that’s about 50 million gallons each day.

What does it mean to be a process engineer?

As process engineers, we get to be on the cutting edge of some remarkable advancements in water and wastewater technology. We live in a world where equipment can automatically start, stop, adjust, optimize, ramp up and down, open, close, throttle, reverse, and much more based on signals like flow rate, oxygen concentration, water level, and electrical resistance. Entire water and wastewater treatment processes can run themselves with very little operator input.

These advancements are important because of our growing awareness of how much we depend on clean water both before and after we use it. Because of this awareness, increasingly strict limits are placed on how “clean” our treated water must be before it is returned to a river or creek. It’s our responsibility as process engineers to help communities steward our environment in a way that doesn’t financially burden the owners of that system—us.

At Prein&Newhof, we realize that providing clean water is not just about helping communities get the latest and greatest technology. While technology has its place, we strive to think like operators as we design systems that are simple, maintainable, and replaceable. It’s operators who are the true experts in our field. They are the ones monitoring water and wastewater treatment plants 24/7 to prevent any dangerous upsets in the treatment process. They are the ones running out to a pump station that lost power during heavy rain to make sure wastewater doesn’t back up in our basements. The easier we can make their jobs, the better.

In addition to thinking like operators, process engineers at Prein&Newhof get to wear many other hats. Some days we are selecting materials and colors for a new building to house process equipment. Other days we are checking on steel reinforcement before a concrete pour. We get to design underground pipelines, coordinate with mechanical and electrical engineers, and provide complex sequences of operation for equipment programmers. And the best part of our job? We get to watch as the systems we have designed are constructed and put into operation. There is always a special sense of satisfaction when we can see and admire the results of our work.

While I wouldn’t have predicted it ten years ago, I’m thankful I ended up in a position where I can serve our community as a process engineer. It has provided a way to steward this beautiful creation while tapping into my nerdy side every now and then. Of course, it has one downside: it’s hard to drive by a pump station without pointing it out to my family! But I point it out because I’m proud of the work I do. It’s easy to forget about the infrastructure we don’t see, but for me, pump stations and treatment plants are powerful symbols of service to others and a reminder of the daily blessings we often take for granted. We are providing a service that previous generations have given to us, and it is a privilege to pass it on to the next generation.

by Amanda Bricker, Lab Technician

Over twenty years ago, I had just completed an internship with Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore where I helped examine the chemistry of the water and conduct a fish survey of the park’s inland lakes. I tested the E. coli levels at the park’s beaches weekly, monitoring for any potential beach closures. That summer experience gave me my first real glimpse of environmental work in action.

It influenced me to shift my final year at Alma College to focus more heavily on environmental classes, but when I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, I wasn’t entirely sure where it would lead. I did not have a clear plan, just a growing interest in the kind of work that helped protect people and the natural world. It only took a few months after graduation, and I joined the lab team at Prein&Newhof. The reason I have stayed for over two decades is simple: I believe in what we do.

At Prein&Newhof’s Laboratory, we test drinking water, wastewater, stormwater, groundwater, surface water, soils, sludges—you name it. We look at everything from bacteria like coliform and E. coli to chemical contaminants like per- and polyfluoroalkyl (PFAS) substances, lead, nitrates, and volatile organic compounds (VOCs). We work with municipalities, private well owners, local businesses, and environmental consultants on a daily basis. No matter who we are serving, I always feel like I’m contributing to something that matters.

There’s a real sense of purpose in knowing that the work we do helps people make informed decisions about their water. Whether a family is testing their well for peace of mind, or a city is monitoring its water system to better understand trends over time, the data we provide plays an important role. We’re here to provide reliable testing that helps guide the next steps and inform big decisions.

My son once said to me, “Your job is only fun when people have bad water.” It made me laugh because, in a way, he’s right—there is something rewarding about being part of the response when someone has a concern or a problem with their water. When people are worried about what’s coming out of their tap, they’re often scared or overwhelmed. Being able to offer clarity through testing, and to help them know what they’re dealing with, feels like a quiet but meaningful kind of service.

I also love the variety in the work. No two days are ever exactly the same, and there’s always something new to learn. Our team genuinely enjoys the problem-solving aspect of the job and the steady rhythm of lab work. We’re a group of people who care deeply about clean water and about doing things the right way.

What’s kept me here, more than anything, are the passionate coworkers and community members I get to work with on a daily basis. I’ve lived in Michigan my whole life, and I know how much people care about their lakes, rivers, and clean drinking water. I know how personal it is when someone calls about a concern with their home’s water. Being part of the team that helps answer those questions feels like contributing to the health and well-being of our community.

If you’ve ever wondered about what’s in your water or just want to better understand the quality of the water you use every day, Prein&Newhof’s Laboratory is here to help. Whether you’re testing a private well, checking your home for lead or PFAS, or managing compliance for a larger system, we’re here to walk alongside you with science, transparency, and care.

You can learn more about our lab and the services we offer at https://www.preinnewhof.com/laboratory/.

by Matt Levandoski, PLA

Was it divine, born out of need, or pre-meditated? I don’t recall, but in April of 2020, I found myself lacing up my running shoes more than ever before. Not to race or train, but to breathe. I ran every single mile of trail in the Ottawa County Parks System. What started as a fun way to stay in shape became my therapy, my escape, my lifeline.

When I began, I didn’t know that I could enjoy running. After all, I wasn’t a “runner.” That was something crazy disciplined people did because… I guessed they must love pain? But as I plodded along, there was something grounding about the rhythm of my feet on the dirt, the hush of trees in the wind, the occasional deer bounding away into the brush. For many of us in the global pandemic of 2020, the world felt upside-down. Being in nature and on a trail reminded me which way was up, so, as Forrest Gump would say, “I just kept on running.”

What I found on those trails wasn’t just way to burn off the Sluggo’s I had at lunch; I found a sense of personal peace—I found hope. I passed families walking together for the first time in what felt like ages, neighbors smiling and waving at each other from a safe distance, kids laughing as they explored creeks, woods, and playgrounds. In the middle of the world’s chaos, parks became sanctuaries. Not just for me, but for all of us.

And yet, in many communities, parks and open spaces are still treated like optional extras—amenities we get to enjoy when everything else is taken care of in life. We can’t play until our homework is done and our laundry is folded; only then can the guilty pleasure of recreation be considered. Trees, rain gardens, plantings, and benches are often the last things considered in development proposals but are often the first line items cut from budgets. It’s a narrative that needs to change, and I believe it starts with each of us. We need to slow down, to take time to think, to question our own priorities, and to give ourselves permission to listen to what we already know we need: time in nature with our creator, ourselves, and the people and pets we love.

For over 20 years, I’ve seen this mindset firsthand in my work as a Landscape Architect. The time we spend in parks and open spaces is frequently seen as the icing on top, the dessert we earn after we’ve eaten the main course. The miles I logged, the blisters I earned, the smiles I shared, and the way I felt taught me one truth: that parks are essential human infrastructure. Not just because recreation is fun, or a trendy way to get “followers” on social media, but because we need it.

Think about it—from a public health standpoint, parks are preventative medicine. Studies have shown that time in nature reduces stress, lowers blood pressure, improves mood, and boosts immune response. For kids, recess is more than a chance to get the wiggles out, but a way to learn social skills, problem solving, and to improve focus when they go back to the classroom. But it’s not just about mental health. Parks provide places to move our bodies, breathe cleaner air, and reconnect with the rhythms of the natural world—all of which have real, measurable impact on our overall well-being. Parks, open spaces, and time outdoors can help us thrive in our daily lives.

From an environmental perspective, parks and open spaces are working landscapes. They absorb stormwater, provide critical habitats, reduce the heat island effect in urban areas, and improve air and water quality. The founder of Landscape Architecture, Frederick Law Olmstead, understood the value of nature and worked to plan and design a space where people living in highly urbanized New York City could get away from the grind of pavement and buildings: the famous Central Park. Parks are among the most democratic spaces we have. There is no entrance fee. You don’t need a membership. They belong to everyone. A well-designed park serves toddlers and teenagers, elders and athletes, birdwatchers, and bikers alike. That is not an accident—that’s intentional, inclusive design. That is good planning.

One often overlooked, but important, thing that being in nature reminds me is that I am not the center of the world and it’s actually not that scary out here. Visiting a park and sharing a smile with a stranger as we pass on the trail reminds me that people are mostly good, despite what we may be led to believe. When I step outside of my house, office, or car, my perspective changes. It grows, it expands, and it helps me to “see farther,” a core value we share here at Prein&Newhof. When I get out on the trail in the middle of a forest with majestic trees towering over me, I feel small, but I feel safe.

When we save open spaces and create parks, we teach each other how to care for creation, how to care for ourselves, and how to care for each other. That’s the kind of mindset we need more of these days. When the world gets overwhelming, we don’t need more screens, more traffic, or more noise. We need trees. We need space. We need each other.

Over the last 5 years since I ran all the trails in the Ottawa County Parks system, I’ve put the weight back on, gathered a few more grey hairs, and watched my kids grow from middle schoolers to high schoolers. My oldest will even be going off to college at GVSU next fall. Time waits for no one and soon our nest will be empty. Knowing that I can return to a nature to re-connect, re-fuel, and remember, gives me the peace to carry on down the trail of life.  See you out there!

by Fiona Miller, EIT

The Great Lakes contain 20% of the world’s surface freshwater and serve as a critical resource for Michigan’s communities. While the state enjoys close proximity to abundant water sources, having access to freshwater is not always the same as having reliable, clean water available for everyday use. Despite the vast rainfall in places like the Ecuadorian Amazon, where annual rainfall is measured in feet rather than inches, the challenges in accessing clean, drinkable water remain. This disparity between water availability and access became clear to me during a college project in Ecuador, which shaped my perspective on the true value of engineering.

During my time at Calvin University, my senior design project consisted of designing a rainwater catchment and treatment system at a community property on the western edge of the Amazon Rainforest in Shell, Ecuador. The city has a municipal water system, but due to long residence times in pipes and tanks, the water quality on the property was poor.

Before we began working on the project, I was excited about beginning my career as an engineer. I had long loved math, science, and understanding how things work. My senior design project, by emphasizing that our design was serving others, revealed an aspect of engineering I hadn’t previously recognized. While the work itself is stimulating and is an outlet for the knowledge I’ve learned throughout my education and work experiences, I realized that designing a project is not just problem-solving, it is vital for supporting our communities.

This point was driven home for me when my senior design team visited Ecuador in 2022 with a group of other engineering students. While in Ecuador, we worked alongside members of the community of San Isidro de Chipo to backfill water distribution pipes they had recently installed.

Seeing community members work on the project with their own hands emphasized that water projects have individual effects. In the case of this community in Ecuador, the impact of the project was huge – marking the first time community members had experienced clean water on demand at their own homes. The perspective of engineering I gained through this project has translated to my career, demonstrating the value fresh water holds for each individual.

I had another opportunity to go to Ecuador in 2024 through Safe Water in Ecuador (SWIE), a committee of the Michigan Section of the American Water Works Association (AWWA). SWIE partners with organizations in Ecuador: Life Giving Water International, an American organization, as well as CODEINSE, an Ecuadorian organization local to Riobamba, Ecuador.

On this trip, we visited several communities in different stages of water system development. In San Martin Bajo, we attended their water system inauguration – held in a large tent on the hillside with several hours of celebration including speeches, singing, and dancing. In Guayllabamba, we gathered water samples to test the effectiveness of their newly installed chlorination system, saying hello to many community dogs on the way. In Llinllin Centro Civico, we participated in evaluating a potential water source with an 8.5-mile hike/horseback ride up 3,000 feet of elevation gain.

My daily work doesn’t involve providing ready access to clean water to those who’ve never had it. It also doesn’t include community dances, free-range dogs, or horseback rides. But it does contribute to the maintenance of the systems that our clients already have in place to provide and protect clean water for their communities. The same design steps taken on projects in Ecuador are followed on Prein&Newhof’s projects in Michigan. My team’s day-to-day work includes adapting to changing demands, new technologies, and emerging contaminants.

The effort taken to maintain and replace existing infrastructure is critical in safeguarding our freshwater. My recent trip to Ecuador, as well as opportunities closer to home, continually provide fresh reminders of that perspective.

To maintain this perspective, I participate in regular volunteering events with my colleagues to assemble small-scale water filters at Village Water Filters in Grand Rapids. This helps us connect to our company value of “Support Community.” Village Water Filters distributes their filters to those in need around the world, and some of the filters assembled by Prein&Newhof volunteers have gone to Kenya and areas in North Carolina affected by last year’s hurricanes.

The work I’ve done in both Michigan and Ecuador has deepened my understanding of the important role engineers play in safeguarding water access for communities, both near and far. While challenges and contexts may differ, the core principles of engineering design and maintenance remain the same, as does the powerful impact clean water has on individuals and communities. As I continue at Prein&Newhof, I’m committed to applying this perspective, knowing that the work my team does today will preserve freshwater resources for future generations. Whether through local volunteer efforts or large-scale engineering solutions, I’m driven by the knowledge that ensuring access to clean water is one of the most meaningful ways we can serve others.