Starting as an operator trainee in 1994, she cleaned pumps covered with raw sewage and shoveled the grit from tanks. But she became fascinated with the science of waste-water treatment and since then has not wanted to do anything else.
Through study and passing the state exams, she gradually advanced from a Grade I operator to Grade IV, and became an operations and maintenance supervisor over 20 employees.
Three years ago, the former day-care provider was hired as facility manager of Modesto's two treatment plants, which process up to 25 million gallons of waste water a day.
Officials say Anhalt's career path from a trainee to a management job, paying $80,000 to $101,000 a year, is an example of the opportunities in public works employment.
"I love what I do," Anhalt said. "It's all about helping the environment. It's about keeping cities running properly. Cities can't do without waste-water treatment facilities."
Anhalt is one of the few women who work in waste-water treatment. She knows about a half-dozen other women in the field, including the facility manager for the city of Napa.
She is quick to acknowledge the career isn't for everyone, however.
In a previous job, one of her duties was to open pumps to clean out rubber bands, hair and other stuff that people had flushed down their toilets. She cleaned the rotating arms of filter reactors, stirring clouds of flies that got into her ears, nose and eyes.
At one time, working in sewage treatment plants was among the most dangerous occupations. Beside the strong chemicals and contaminated water, employees have to work in the rain around equipment with high voltage electrical circuits.
In addition to dealing with the occupational dangers, Anhalt once was bitten by a feral cat, requiring her to undergo rabies shots.
The physical nature of the job posed a few challenges for the mother of two. She needed to use longer bars or cheater bars for leverage to open certain valves. Occasionally, someone had to open one for her, she said.
When she went home to her family, her dirty boots and uniforms stayed in the locker room at work. In time, she stopped noticing the odors at the plant.
"I likened it to changing the diapers of someone else's 2-year-old," Anhalt said. "After awhile you just get used to it."
As the facility manager for Modesto, she oversees the primary treatment plant on Sutter Avenue in southwest Modesto and the more advanced facilities on Jennings Road, eight miles west of the city. She's in charge of operations and maintenance, manages schedules for 45 employes, deals with licensing and permit issues, and coordinates with other staff on capital improvements.
It's important that the water's treatment meets the standards for discharges to the San Joaquin River, or state regulators could slap Modesto with a cease and desist order, with daily fines of $3,000 per violation.
Anhalt also attends staff meetings on a $125 million project to expand the tertiary treatment facilities at the Jennings plant, which is supposed to comply with more stringent discharge requirements by 2016.
Once treated, the recycled water is almost clean enough to drink, and the city is working with other agencies on a plan to sell it to farms in western Stanislaus County.
"One of the nice things about working with a person of Laura's caliber is she's a team player," said Public Works Director Dennis Turner. "She has many years of experience, and that's important when you are operating a facility the size of Modesto's."
Anhalt doesn't know that she's brought a woman's touch to the job. Some of the large pipes at the Jennings plant are painted an attractive purple, green and blue, but it's more in keeping with industry standards. The color coding tells workers what is in the pipes.
Sometimes, it takes an extra effort to convince men of her knowledge of treatment technology, she said. "I find I have to prove that I know what I'm talking about. I have to back it up with extra information."
The Fresno native got some of her know-how from her father, who worked as a master carpenter to support his wife and three daughters. Anhalt said she became the son her father never had.
Although her childhood dream was to become a doctor, Anhalt likes to work with technology that's improving rivers in California and providing a sanitary life for more than 200,000 Modesto residents.
"I don't recommend this work for everybody," she said. "You have to be somewhat mechanically inclined. You can't be afraid to get dirty. And you have to want to work for the environment."
Bee staff writer Ken Carlson can be reached at kcarlson@modbee.com or (209) 578-2321.