Jack & Susan Groh: A Watershed Moment on the Fox River
On a cloudy April morning, the Fox River moved slow and quiet. Along its banks, patches of snow lingered from a long Wisconsin winter.
It was Earth Day in Green Bay. Volunteers in yellow shirts spread out along the Fox River Trail, pulling plastic from brush and wrappers from tree roots. A boy held up a crushed bottle like he’d reeled in a trophy. His dad laughed and kept filling the bag.
Jack and Susan Groh, longtime leaders of the NFL’s environmental work, stood nearby, listening as speakers kicked off the event. When it was time to get to work, they stepped in like everyone else.
They’ve done this kind of thing in city after city. But this was their first time here.
The 2025 NFL Draft was coming to town, and the league wanted the event to leave something meaningful behind. As part of that effort, NFL Green reached out to the Fox-Wolf Watershed Alliance.
“We were looking for real, on-the-ground partners,” Susan said. “People who were already doing the work.”
Fox-Wolf had been coordinating cleanup events and watershed restoration for years. When NFL Green saw what the group was doing, the connection made sense.
“We just wanted to support what was already working,” Susan said.
Together, they organized a cleanup event along the trail. Local volunteers showed up. NFL visibility helped shine a light on the effort. Everyone brought something different to the table, but the goal was the same: care for the water that runs through this place.
Their Watershed Moment
Years earlier, before NFL Green had a name, Jack sat down for a lunch meeting with a senior NFL executive during Super Bowl week. He asked a simple question.
“What are we doing about the environmental footprint of the Super Bowl?”
The executive paused, then said, “Well… what do you think I should do?”
That conversation, one over lunch, became the starting point for what would grow into the league’s long-term commitment to environmental conservation.
“We knew we could go further,” Susan said. “We wanted to leave something behind that would grow.”
Back Where It Started
Before tree plantings in draft cities and habitat restoration projects in Super Bowl cities, there was a small brook in their neighborhood. It barely moved, choked with trash.
So they rallied a group of local kids, grabbed some pizzas, and got to work.
“We’d go out and have fun and pick up trash,” Jack said. “It was simple.”
Then came the school garden—one plant per student. Three hundred plants. Three hundred kids. “Every kid owned a plant,” Jack said. “And vandalism just dropped to zero.”
The lesson stuck. When people are invited to care, they usually do. Especially when they’re given a role or a reason.
“It’s not about us swooping in to fix something,” Susan said. “It’s about helping people see what’s already theirs to protect.”
From that first brook to the Fox River, their approach hasn’t changed much.
To the Banks of the Fox
The cleanup in Green Bay may have been their first here, but the scene felt familiar. Gloves on. Tools in hand. Conversations forming as volunteers picked their way along the shoreline.
Fox-Wolf brought the local leadership and long-standing community ties. NFL Green helped amplify the effort. Together, they made the morning matter.
“We always hope people stay involved after the cameras leave,” Susan said. “Because it’s never really about the event. It’s about the place.”
“If we can be the excuse they need to show up, that’s enough,” she added. “They’ll stay for the water.”
Jack nodded. He’s seen it before. Something shifts when people dig, carry, or plant. It’s not symbolic. It’s practical. And it sticks.
“You come back a year later,” he said, “and that tree’s still there. That wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t been out here.”
The Fox River moved past them—steady and slow—carrying every small act downstream.
“They’ll stay for the water.” – Susan Groh
What We Leave Behind
Jack still shares the same message with students, volunteers, and anyone who asks what they can do.
“Why are you here?” he says. “Why were you put in front of this broken thing, with the tools to fix it?”
He doesn’t claim to have the answer. But for him, it comes back to a simple idea: Tikkun Olam—a phrase that means “repair the world.”
“You don’t need a title, you don’t need permission. If something’s broken, and you can fix it, then fix the doggone thing.”
Then keep going. Because there’s always more to do.
Watershed Moments is a quarterly publication from the Fox-Wolf Watershed Alliance, sharing true stories of people whose lives have been shaped by water—and the moments that sparked their care for it.
Read more Watershed Moments, or support this work with a donation.