In recent years, Western North Carolina -- and in particular areas
in and around the Great Smoky Mountains National Park -- have become
an environmental battleground. When I returned to the mountains in 1980,
I expected to find the kind of relatively clean air, clean water and
undeveloped landscape of my youth. Instead, I found myself in the midst
of the beginnings of an all-out war on the ecology of the region, which,
today, has escalated and manifested itself in a number of issues. This
battleground does serve, however, as an instructive microcosmic model
for the rest of the country. The issues range from an EPA Superfund
site in Haywood County to the Road to Nowhere controversy
in Graham and Swain counties.
Like modern-day Paul Reveres, a growing number of watchdog environmental
organizations in the region have seen ecologically-based issues arrive
-- by land, sea, and air -- like invading armies, and have hung out
their warning lanterns in the belfries of public concern.
By land
The 1980s and 1990s saw battle lines drawn between environmentalists,
the USDA Forest Service and the logging and timber companies in the
region. The differences have concerned clear-cut logging (especially
on Forest Service land), chip mills and the permanent preservation of
wilderness (best evidenced in the Blue Wall Duke Power sale).
More recently, the DOT, boards of county commissioners and businesses
have drawn their respective lines in the dirt with environmental groups
and the Eastern Band of the Cherokee over the issues of a major land
swap between the Eastern Band and the National Park Service, as well
as the controversial Road to Nowhere -- a paved road that
is cutting a giant swath through the Smokies as well as threatening
a portion of the Fontana watershed in Swain County.
By air
The air quality issue has raised its ugly head here in the mountains
in recent years, with the nitrogen oxide readings threatening to reach
levels as high as any in the entire country, including such record-setting
metropolitan areas as Los Angeles. This is necessitating the creation
of a variety of quality control organizations as well as such grassroots
activist environmental organizations as the newly-formed Canary Coalition,
which is working to coordinate existing environmental groups and to
organize media events such as a concert featuring high-profile stars
from the worlds of music, entertainment, business and politics.
By sea
There is the lingering Pigeon River controversy, a hard-fought battle
between what was Champion International (now Blue Ridge Paper) and a
coalition of river awareness and preservation groups in the western
part of the state as well as eastern Tennessee. In addition, there are
several community and county-based quality control groups monitoring
rivers and streams, development impact, and town water systems.
While land, culture, history and community have always been important
cornerstones of life here in the Smoky Mountains, never has the debate
been hotter or the threat greater to the very existence of these natural
themes of rural mountain life. While there has always been a certain
amount of conflict involved in the history of the mountain South, never
before has the landscape been so littered with controversy of an environmental
nature. At every turn we see communities at odds with one another over
the question of the bottom line versus preservation of the environment.
In this respect, the Great Smokies can be seen as something of a microcosm
for the rest of the country with regard to not only the escalation of
existing environmental issues, but the multiplicity of issues now, collectively,
coming to a head in the region.
While the residents of Big Cove over on the Qualla Reser-vation are
feuding with the Swain Coun-ty Board of Commis-sioners (reminiscent
of the Indian/Euro-pean conflicts from the 19th century, and before)
over the land-swap deal with the National Park Ser-vice, and while the
Road to Nowhere fast becomes a paradoxical metaphor for
local comic relief, everyone is breathing some of the foulest air in
the nation -- a phenomenon already having documented health-related
repercussions on all ages of the population.
Were like the canary birds in the coal mines, says
Canary Coalition Director Avram Freidman of Sylva. Without being
asked, were all being used as canaries while our air is being
eroded by the power and coal companies and the auto industry.
While the various battle lines are being drawn and sides taken, the
landscape, culture, history and sense of community here in the Western
North Carolina mountains is changing -- rapidly and forever. One can
only hope that these kinds of changes are not fatal to the unique and
long-standing cultures, along with plant and animal populations indigenous
to the Smokies, and that such recent action as the All-Taxa Biological
Survey being carried out in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park
will provide the necessary information, leading to a baseline model
and antidotes for the waning ecosystem health of what is a true treasure-trove
of biodiversity. Let us hope that this widening road of conflict will
not, in the end, be known only as a road that led nowhere, but will
become, instead, a road that will be perceived to have led to somewhere.
Somewhere beautiful. Again.
(Crowe lives in Jackson County.)