The Most Misjudged Flood in the City
When a big summer storm fills this region's storm network, the water in it has to go somewhere, and the lowest openings in thousands of Windsor houses — basement floor drains, basement showers, floor-level toilets — are where it arrives. What comes up is not rainwater. It is the content of the municipal system under surge, carrying everything that system collects, and it is classified as category 3 water: grossly unsanitary, with cleanup rules that apply no matter how clear it looks.
The mistake pattern is so consistent it deserves a name: the household treats the backup like dirty mop water, wades in, moves things out, shop-vacs, sets fans. The room dries. The odour hangs around. Then a child with a lingering cough or an odour nobody can chase brings the question indoors months later, and the answer is contamination that was dried into the room rather than removed from it. Porous materials that took sewage water keep it, and keeping them keeps the organisms.
So this page exists to reset instincts: a sewer backup is a decontamination-and-removal job where drying plays third fiddle, and the rules are not negotiable regardless of the flood's size. An inch of surcharged water on a finished basement floor is a containment job; the same inch through a drain in an unfinished basement is less demolition but the same biology. When the damage arrives from a storm rather than a drain, the entry path changes — see basement flood cleanup for that comparison.