The corridor town with three kinds of water problem.
Greer’s growth has stacked three housing eras on top of each other. Downtown holds the older stock — crawl spaces, mature trees, original laterals. The ring around it is ranch country, 1970s and 80s brick on slabs and crawls, where the plumbing has hit the age when supply lines and water heaters start failing in clusters. And the new subdivisions climbing toward the state line bring the new-build profile: settling grading, irrigation freezes, builder-grade equipment reaching its window.
The weather doesn’t sort by era. The storm line that crosses the county crosses Greer — often hard — and wind-driven rain plus clay soil that won’t absorb it means every low spot and every tired roof answers the same night. Around Lake Cunningham and the creek draws, tropical remnants push water into garages and walk-outs that had stayed dry for years. Wherever in Greer the water is, the job is the same discipline: extract, map, dry to a number.