FOX 35 Orlando reporter Marie Edinger didn’t ease into the story. She called it what people living nearby say it feels like: “The smell of death is in the air in Sanford.”
Edinger reported that hundreds of fish and several turtles were found dead in a pond near a construction site, and the scene was so grim it drew vultures in large numbers. When that many scavenger birds start circling in the middle of a city, it stops being a minor nuisance and starts looking like a warning sign.
Over on WKMG News 6, community correspondent Troy Campbell stood near the same drained pond and pointed out the obvious: the water is gone, but the mess is still there. Campbell said you can even see the pump behind him, and he reported residents were told the drained water is going into the stormwater system and ultimately to the St. Johns River.
That detail is exactly why people got nervous. A dead pond is one thing, but a system that moves water offsite raises bigger questions, especially when the shoreline is littered with bodies.
The Resident Who Spoke Up First
Edinger said FOX 35 first heard about the die-off when Julia Mikulina, a real estate broker, reached out with concerns about whether the pond was being drained properly. Edinger described Mikulina as someone who drives by the area and noticed something wasn’t right.
Mikulina told Edinger, “It was just very sad to see that.” And then she got blunt about what hit her next: “It smells like death.”
Campbell’s report matched that same first impression from Mikulina, only with even more detail. Campbell said Mikulina drove past the pond near the corner of State Road 46 and Harvest Time Drive and noticed vultures surrounding the area, which made her pull over.
Mikulina told Campbell, “The smell was overwhelming. It was horrible.” She also said she was shocked this could happen “right in the middle of everything,” adding, “Nobody tried to stop it or do something about it.”
That’s the kind of quote you hear when a person feels powerless. Not just grossed out – ignored.
And honestly, it’s hard not to sympathize with that reaction. If a public-looking pond is being drained and wildlife is dying by the hundreds, the average resident isn’t thinking about permit language. They’re thinking, “Who is watching this?”
A Habitat Turns Into A Dead Zone
Edinger spoke with Jan Forman, who said he bought one of the nearby townhouses partly because of the wildlife the pond used to attract. He described the usual scene – birds and movement and life.

Forman told Edinger he’s used to seeing migratory birds, including black-bellied whistling ducks, coming through and populating the area. Edinger also noted that while the drained pond was drawing hordes of vultures, nearby ponds still had the kinds of birds Forman expects, like ducks, egrets, and storks.
That contrast is what makes residents suspicious. If the explanation is simply “weather,” people naturally ask why one pond becomes a mass grave while ponds just feet away keep functioning like normal.
Forman’s next observation was even stranger. He told Edinger that he’d seen turtles somehow making their way under a fence line and across the street, seemingly trying to reach water.
Forman told Edinger, “I don’t know why they’re draining this, and it makes no sense, but it was a habitat for a lot of wildlife.” That’s not a scientific statement, but it’s an emotional one—and it matters, because regular people can see when a place that used to be alive suddenly isn’t.
Campbell’s report backed up that same sense of loss. He quoted Mikulina saying the pond used to have vegetation, and she remembered ducks and different birds coming and going. In her words, “one day the vegetation was gone.”
Even if you accept the permit’s claim that the wetland had “low ecological quality,” the lived experience of neighbors is different. They saw animals using it. They experienced it as a living space, not an empty puddle.
What Officials Say Killed The Fish
In Edinger’s reporting, Seminole County told her the fish likely died because of a cold snap along with low water levels. That explanation, at least on its face, sounds plausible for fish in shallow water.

But Edinger pointed out the hole in that explanation right away: it doesn’t explain the dead turtles. She also emphasized something residents will fixate on – other ponds nearby didn’t have piles of dead fish.
Campbell reported a similar official explanation. He said Seminole County told News 6 the fish likely died from a combination of low water level and cold weather.
Here’s the issue: when officials say “likely,” residents hear “we’re not sure,” and the smell outside makes it hard for anyone to relax. When a pond is actively being drained near construction, people are going to connect those dots whether government agencies like it or not.
And if you’re a resident living nearby, it probably feels like the simplest question is still unanswered: why did this happen here, in this pond, right now?
The Drainage Permit And The Confusing Chain Of Responsibility
Both Edinger and Campbell traced the draining back to a permitted construction project.
Edinger reported that property records show Sanford Auto Ventures bought the parcel to build a collision facility for Tesla, Inc. She said she reached out to Sanford Auto Ventures and the construction crew but didn’t get a response.
Campbell similarly said he called the applicant and left a voicemail, and he also reported no response. That silence tends to pour gasoline on suspicion, even if there’s a benign explanation.
Edinger reported that the St. Johns River Water Management District and Seminole County permitted the drainage of the pond. She said the permit argument included claims that the ecological value of the impacted wetland was low and that the plant community was predominantly invasive.
Campbell said Seminole County provided News 6 with an approved permit and that a study referenced in it described the pond as having “low ecological quality.” He also reported that the county said developers had approval from the St. Johns River Water Management District.
This is where the story starts to feel like a bureaucratic maze. Multiple agencies can approve a process, but when something goes wrong – or even looks wrong – people want to know who is accountable.
And in this case, Edinger reported the City of Sanford says it wasn’t kept in the loop.
City Officials Say They Weren’t In The Loop
One of Edinger’s biggest revelations was that the City of Sanford claims it had no coordination or correspondence about the pond being drained.

Edinger reported the city said in a statement that neither public works nor planning staff received coordination or correspondence from the applicant or the county about the draining. The city also suggested it may violate an annexation agreement tied to the development of the property.
That’s the kind of detail that makes residents feel like their instincts were right. Even if the county and water management district signed off, the city basically saying “we weren’t informed” sounds like a governance problem all by itself.
Edinger also reported Sanford’s planning manager told her that if the developer is found to be in violation of the annexation agreement, then the city commission and city attorney will consider consequences.
That’s a careful way of saying: “This might get legal.”
And it should. Not because the public is out for revenge, but because projects like this shouldn’t be allowed to drift into gray areas where everyone points at someone else.
Where Did The Water Go And Why That Matters
Edinger reported Seminole County said the water is being drained through its stormwater system and then to the St. Johns River. She also reported the county said the water meets the quality standards required to discharge into the river.
Campbell said the same thing on camera: he reported the water is going into the stormwater system and then to the St. Johns River, while the pond itself is left behind with dead fish and turtles.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: telling people “the water meets standards” doesn’t calm them when they’re staring at hundreds of dead animals. It may be technically true, but it doesn’t feel true.
It also raises a common-sense concern. If the water was fine, then what killed everything? And if the fish died because of cold and low water, why did turtles die too, and why do nearby ponds look normal?
Edinger didn’t claim to have proof of contamination. She reported what agencies told her. But she also made it clear that residents are asking questions that deserve direct answers, not vague statements.
Campbell showed that same frustration through the residents he interviewed. Sergio Wilcox, who lives nearby, told Campbell he was worried about the smell and basically said they’ll have to endure it, hoping it doesn’t keep people up at night.
Wilcox’s reaction is so human it hurts. People can put up with a lot, but nobody wants to “bear through” something that feels avoidable.
Residents Want Answers, And Silence Makes It Worse
Edinger spoke directly to Mikulina about what she wants now. Edinger asked if she’s hoping it comes to a stop, and Mikulina said yes, or at least to figure out what’s going on.
Campbell captured the same energy. Mikulina wasn’t just upset about dead fish. She was upset that it looked like the process kept going even as the die-off became obvious.
That’s the part that makes this story linger. If this was truly an unavoidable side effect of weather and low water, residents still want to know why the pond was being drained in that moment and what safeguards existed to prevent a mass kill.
Also, if permits claim the ecological value is low, it’s still fair for citizens to ask: low value to whom? To a study, or to the people who bought homes there because they liked watching birds and turtles?
This is one of those stories where “environmental” isn’t just about science. It’s about trust. It’s about whether residents believe local systems protect public spaces and wildlife, or whether development just steamrolls forward because paperwork says it can.
And it’s hard not to feel like the public is always asked to accept the downsides as “the cost of progress,” even when progress looks like a drained pond and a pile of dead animals.
The Big Question Hanging Over The Pond
Edinger connected several dots: a pond was permitted to be drained, a project is moving forward, the city says it wasn’t coordinated with, residents say the smell is unbearable, and wildlife is dead in large numbers.

Campbell added more ground-level detail: the pump is running, the stormwater system is involved, and neighbors are left dealing with the odor and the sight of a habitat collapsing.
If you live near this pond, the fear isn’t just “what happened.” It’s “could it happen again,” and “what else is connected to that stormwater system,” and “does anyone have to answer to the people who live here.”
The most reasonable thing residents can ask for isn’t a dramatic courtroom showdown. It’s a clear timeline, clear responsibility, and clear explanations – especially about the turtles, which even officials’ basic weather explanation doesn’t neatly cover.
Until that happens, this will keep feeling less like an accident and more like a system failure that got brushed aside.
And when a story smells this bad – literally – people don’t forget it quickly.

Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.


































