At 70,Goodman does grand-parenting like he does most everything. He is all in on going all out. Which is reason aplenty for Goodman to be among ideal friends of the River Heritage Conservancy.

The Conservancy counts on its finished product - grand, unique, sprawling parklands - to spill from Clark County into Floyd County. The hope, the goal is to include an oasis-like area in New Albany known as Loop Island Wetlands.

Goodman gave that land both its revived name and its worthy-high profile. Goodman offered it for get-away use. He urged we all embrace its natural charm and help him preserve and promote.

"If somebody didn't take this on, it would just sit there," Goodman told me.

After indeed taking it on, providing all the tender loving care he could as long as he could, Goodman sold the Loop Island area five years ago to New Albany. "We closed the deal in about six weeks," Goodman said. "Financially - the only reason was financially."

Trails have been improved but the city has not spelled out the wetlands' long-range vision. Meanwhile, the Conservancy leans eagerly on Goodman, an engineer with specialties galore. Goodman is glad to continue as Loop Island cheerleader, passionate as ever about unfinished business. "I'm proud I helped make this area known," he said.

"I'd like to offer my knowledge, my experiences, really give this the prominence it needs on both sides of the river."

The oldest of seven children, Goodman grew up in Clarksville the son of a plumber who himself learned his way around a wrench. Goodman latched instead onto chemistry, though, inspired by a chemist cousin. Goodman became one of then-Bellarmine College's early chemistry grads and passed on some out-of-town job offers.

He opted to run the lab at Jeffersonville's sewage treatment plant. His first day on the job was, gulp, his first day in any such place.

Nonetheless, as soon as Goodman found the restroom, odd things turned way odder. By first-week's end, the plant manager was canned and Goodman was put in charge. Like that, at all of 21, he was the boss of 23 people and was most responsible for a city's waste.

It did not hurt that Richard Vissing, the mayor of Jeffersonville, was another Goodman relative. Like always, though, Goodman proved up to the task. "I was learning on the job, learning by trial and error," he said. "I was challenged - put it that way. But I had the support of the right people, as well as people at the plant."

Goodman stayed six uneventful years - uneventful is golden in sewage treatment - before joining the private sector. He helped communities open such plants, he trained their employees. He went on to co-own a firm that specialized in the removal of hazardous wastes.

"I had four small kids and I was gone a lot," Goodman said. "We were busy. We were busy and making money."

Goodman started his own firm in 1986. His second client was Moser Leather, near the Ohio River on New Albany's east side. The company relied on a lagoon to deal with its waste. Blood Pond was the body's spooky nickname - red not with blood, Goodman assured, but with red algae. The look was no more appetizing than was the smell. Goodman persevered until he figured solutions. He now chuckles, thinking of that triumph as part of his legacy.

"Blood Pond is no more," Goodman said.

Goodman's vocation bled, if you will, into an avocation. He had hunted and fished in the tannery's shadow. He cherished what it had offered him and could offer to one and all. Goodman discovered and revived the old name of Loop Island, a reference to when Silver Creek looped.

Goodman led the alert of the public to Loop Island Wetlands. He arranged for people to discover such a handy oasis. He welcomed development of the bisecting Ohio River Greenway. "This was unknown to the people right here," Goodman said of Loop Island. "It was an unknown gem, an unknown asset, hidden for 150 years."

Moser went out of business in 2002 and Goodman became Loop Island Wetland's owner as well as its guardian angel. He had big plans and high hopes - such as a tannery museum - that fell short. "I never could quite make it happen," Goodman said. "I invested everything. I couldn't keep doing that."

He sold his company and took a job with CDM Smith in Louisville. Goodman is now mostly retired. "It's been a wonderful career, a very wonderful career," Goodman said. "My environmental work is not work, it's an environmental passion. I like the opportunities, like the challenges of doing good on a long-term basis."

Goodman shares confidence that the River Heritage Conservancy will attract crowds to the riverfront, will cap off already-burgeoning efforts. Like do few others, Goodman relates to the height both of the Conservancy's challenges and its potential rewards. "This is definitely game changing," Goodman said, grandsons awaiting. "They are looking at a much bigger scale, more elaborate features.

"There's a huge interest, I believe, especially with younger folks, to sit in nature, to experience nature. We've got it right here."