The sky darkened as scalding ash and pumice rained down on the city. In some places, people were trapped in a mixture lacking air and moisture, preserved in time. On the other hand, superheated gases rolled down the mountainside incinerating all organic material in their path. Thousands perished in a matter of a few terrifying hours. Fortunately the scene at the Roman towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum in 79 A.D. does not resemble the situation that residents on the Big Island of Hawaii currently face. Nonetheless, the river of lava emanating from the volcanic Mount Kilauea now threatens nearby homes, particularly in the town of Pahoa.

Kilauea has been erupting nonstop since 1983. While there are a number of active volcanoes across the globe, this is one of the few that is constantly busy. “Active” is a vague term loosely applied to volcanoes that have erupted in the last 10,000 years, or have recently shown signs of life in some form such as seismic activity or emission of gases. A handful of volcanoes have “ongoing” eruptions spanning over a century, being on and off but relatively consistent during that time, but Kilauea is one of only several that falls into the classification of “continuous” eruption.

Residents of the Big Island have lived in the shadow of Kilauea for a long time. In most cases substantial lava flows have meandered south toward the Pacific Ocean and posed no real threat. However over the last two years eruption flows have headed northeast, toward communities. The latest flow, posing problems since June, is moving at 10-15 yards per hour, which is relatively fast. Despite the sense of urgency, there is little panic. Authorities have been making their way through the nearby villages to inform people of the lava’s status. Most residents have places to which they can temporarily relocate, and the need to seek shelter is slim to none. Fortunately, the flow seems to have come to a halt; however residents are still prepared to evacuate because the lava is smoldering and remains dangerous. Furthermore, Kilauea’s active status means that this can resume or occur again at any point in time.

Given the nature of their geography, locals are used to these kinds of situations. The Big Island is not so much an island with a volcano on it, but the whole thing is essentially a series of volcanoes. The Hawaiian Hotspot is a massive breach in the Earth’s crust through which magma has poured for millions of years. The smaller Westernmost islands of Hawaii were once situated directly over this point, forming the islands from cooled lava that eventually sprung vegetation. As the Pacific Plate shifts, they have moved off and slowly eroded while the hotspot composed newer islands such as Molokai, Maui, and the Big Island.

This literally flowing process suggests a smooth gracefulness, prompting much tourism as this calm reaction to the current situation. It is as if to say this is a standard, predictable way of life. However, geologists at the U.S. Geological Survey points out that Kilauea is an explosive volcano. In the past several hundred years it has produced large eruptions including spewing ash columns high into the sky and hurling multi-ton rocks. While there would be tell tale signs that an eruption of this nature is coming, and it seems less and less likely, there is no reason to assume that Kilauea is 100 percent predictable.

Science is not the only factor at play for native Hawaiians when it comes to Kilauea. Many believe that the volcano is the embodiment of Tutu Pele, a Polynesian goddess who is short tempered and possessive of her lands. The ongoing eruptions are her way of trying to reclaim the territory from residents. According to a local, “If she [Pele] feels she needs to clean her house, then let her clean her house.” This statement has been filtered through multiple sources and hence much context has been lost. It is unlikely that the man plans to devoutly stay put and volunteer himself as a sacrifice to the goddess and her wrath of lava, but this sentiment speaks to the interconnectedness of the local culture and the radical environmental situation at play.

Courtesy of Lindley Ashline via Flickr.

The wrath of Pele reminds us that the forces of nature are much more powerful than ourselves; we ought to be careful as to where we build our homes and how we live our lives. Sometimes we must yield as nature runs its own course.

Franklin R. Halprin

Franklin R. Halprin holds an MA in History & Environmental Politics from Rutgers University where he studied human-environmental relationships and settlement patterns in the nineteenth century Southwest. His research focuses on the influences of social and cultural factors on the development of environmental policy. Contact Frank at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

The post As Hawaii’s Kilauea Erupts, Residents Prepare to Flee appeared first on Law Street.

Deep within the heart of the notoriously dangerous and underdeveloped city of Paterson, New Jersey, lies a scenic waterfall of historical and environmental significance.

In 1778, Alexander Hamilton picnicked in the vicinity and was impressed with the power of the Passaic River and its Great Falls. The brilliant and foresighted founding father envisaged water as a source of power for the industries of the new and developing nation. Hamilton’s work, including founding an organization called the Society for Establishing Useful Manufactures, did in fact result in the river and waterfall providing power for the region, including the newly founded city of Paterson, which it continues to do to this day.

Alexander Hamilton: Paterson’s founder and the Great Fall’s promoter. Courtesy of Franklin R. Halprin

The Paterson Great Falls area is supervised by the National Park Service and the US Department of the Interior. Many people have not heard of this all, much less the fact that it is a national park. Granted, one might not visualize this place alongside Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon, or Old Faithful; however, this is not a consequence of its inferiority or failure to provide for its visitors a transcendental experience in nature. Rather, the National Park Service, and We, the People, have forgotten about it and let it languish.

One can be easily misled by the high quality literature received upon arrival. An NPS map delineates the site along with trails and overlooks. Another references an audio guided walking tour around the park and other local points of interest. None of these things is a particularly viable option for the curious tourist or visiting family. The trails have fallen into a state of disrepair, or are completely closed for renovations, the completion dates of which are vague. The limited angles by which one can view the falls do not effectively convey their beauty. Furthermore, in order to get there one must wade through an accumulation of trash on the grassy area. At one point, I picked up and threw out a deflated balloon. This was particularly frustrating because of the dangers these items pose to local animals; a hedgehog scampered by shortly thereafter.

Minimal access in the park. Courtesy of Franklin R. Halprin

On the day I attended, there happened to be a decent number of people present because a small lecture was scheduled. It had recently been the anniversary of the infamous duel between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, and so some people came out to hear the historic tale. Otherwise, I am told by some associates who had explored the park on an average day, the place tends to be relatively vacant. The brochure map indicated a visitor center across the street; I figured it would be productive to look into it and acquire more information. All I found, though, was an empty parking lot and building with no signs or indicators. Was this it? There was no evidence in any of the literature, nor at this building itself, that the center was under renovation or closed. Upon further research at home, I discerned that this empty building was in fact the Great Falls Historic District Cultural Center and its overhaul should be completed later this summer.

The Great Falls Historic District Cultural Center. Courtesy of Franklin R. Halprin

It is a disgrace in its own right that this historically and environmentally significant location has fallen into such a state of disrepair, under-appreciation, and under-attendance, but there are economic and social factors at play here as well. While there are many complex reasons why the city of Paterson is in such poor condition, the Great Falls provide an untapped opportunity to inject some life into the local sector. Fostering tourism via the Falls could provide a source of income to the Paterson economy. While there are many other issues that must be addressed in order to truly lift the city out of its current situation, the Falls are an easy starting point. This would also provide incentive to refurbish the locale and other points of interest, creating a self reinforcing system. As it stands, the streetwise tourist is not likely to wander around the streets of Paterson listening to an audio tour; improving the park experience and improving the local quality of life go hand in hand.

Paterson is a prime example of the social and economic ramifications of deindustrialization. There is a plethora of abandoned buildings and vacant streets, which are breeding grounds for violence, gang activity, and drug use. Aside from the fact that many people do not know of the Falls, finding one’s way there and back is relatively stressful. Once arrived, one is deterred from truly experiencing everything the site could and should offer. Rather, one is distracted by the abysmal infrastructural and human conditions that abound. These are all things that surely reduce the number of annual visitors. If many people wanted to come, the city would find more motivation to improve; if the city found more motivation to improve, many more people might want to come. However, the city of Paterson is not wholly responsible or to blame, as the Falls are a national park and the initial spark must be provided by the federal government.

A typical sight in the Great Falls vicinity. Courtesy of Franklin R. Halprin

We must understand that the quality of our environments and the quality of our lives are intertwined. Nature is not something that only exists “out there,” but is right in our backyards. It is all around around us and is a part of us as much as we are a part of it. This nation has a culturally motivated value system that has to do with preservation of natural spaces. The Paterson Great Falls is a gem that needs polishing. It is a beautiful site that we ought to appreciate and for which we should be grateful. Revamping this gift of nature would not be just for its own aesthetic sake. A quality national park site would have a direct effect on the local conditions and continued potential for growth and improvement in the city and region.

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Franklin R. Halprin (@FHalprin) holds an MA in History & Environmental Politics from Rutgers University where he studied human-environmental relationships and settlement patterns in the nineteenth century Southwest. His research focuses on the influences of social and cultural factors on the development of environmental policy. Contact Franklin at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

Featured image courtesy of [Franklin R. Halprin]

Franklin R. Halprin

Franklin R. Halprin holds an MA in History & Environmental Politics from Rutgers University where he studied human-environmental relationships and settlement patterns in the nineteenth century Southwest. His research focuses on the influences of social and cultural factors on the development of environmental policy. Contact Frank at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

The post A National Park That’s a National Disgrace appeared first on Law Street.

The onset of summer means that wildfires are likely to occur more often. Last month one raged in the Kenai National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska. As crews sought to tame it, questions arose as to its origins, effects, and how to view such forces.

Investigators believe human activity caused the fire. This immediately puts a bad taste in our mouths, as we accuse mankind of selfishness, carelessness, and destruction of our surrounding world. Indeed, the very thought of an unattended campfire or discarded cigarette butt igniting a forest-consuming conflagration is repulsive. “Conservation” and “sustainability” have not always been popular buzzwords.

It was not until the mid 1800s that Westerners began to view the environment as a thing of beauty, and as environmental historian William Cronon put it, “…a landscape where the supernatural lay just beneath the surface…expressed in the doctrine of the sublime…” Cronon has explained that cultural perceptions of human relationships to the wilderness have shifted, and the current discourse that we embrace reflects the romantic writings of towering figures such as Thoreau, Emerson, and Muir. We think of untamed nature as a cathedral to be preserved and only lightly trodden by our feet. This preservationist ethos has its merits, as protecting vast and beautiful spaces from the development, industry, and encroachment of society is vital to preserving nature itself as well as our cultural identity that has spawned from it.

Viewing nature and civilization as separate entities raises problems, Cronon points out. The value of “sustainability” is that it allows for an interaction between the two forces, which ultimately is an unescapable and acceptable dynamic if we are to live maturely on our planet and in our environments. The key is not necessarily to leave all nature alone, but to find a responsible manner in which to interact with it. Naturally, if the Alaska wildfire was caused by human activity, this was not a responsible interaction with nature.

It would seem the logical response to fight the fire and put it out. After all, “…fire officials are worried that recreational cabins and secondary homes…may be at risk.” This raises several points of interest. First of which is the obvious implication that the primary motivation for putting out the fire is the protection of human life, human residences, and economy & tourism; this trumps the genuine concerns for the health of the environment. However, especially considering that the fire was probably caused by human activity, putting it out has been determined the right way to go. California is already experiencing an above average occurrence of fires, and predicts an active season. Consequently, they have retrofitted Black Hawk helicopters to be an extreme response mechanism, unofficially called the Firehawk.This comes partly in response to a series of large fires in the San Diego area last May.

What if the Alaska fire was ignited by natural causes? We tend to view those differently. The mindset of separation between society and nature abounds in this concern. We hesitate to intervene with natural forces, citing that the lack of human involvement denotes a need to let nature run its course. Why, then, do we also instigate controlled burns? Despite continuing struggles to find a responsible way of living in the environment, we take it upon ourselves to be the guardians of nature. When is it acceptable for us to intervene, and when should we leave things alone?

People have a difficult time accepting change. This is problematic, considering nature is constantly in flux; change is vital. The environmental historian Nancy Langston argued that “…we only perceive a crisis when we have first learned to observe, and then to value, a particular set of relationships that are about to be destroyed.” When hailing “conservation” and “preservation,” what are we trying to protect: the environment as we see and value it, or the environment as it functions? California is expecting a particularly active wildfire season, and the coming years are expected to see increased damage from fires. A report by Headwaters Economics suggests that there are climate change-induced factors such as “higher temperatures, widespread drought, earlier snowmelt, spring growth, and expanded insect and disease infestations…” In this sense, the occurrence of wildfires is broadened from a case-by-case basis to the general and wider concerns of human global impact.

When should we start fires, and when should we put them out? How sure can we be that a particular wildfire occurred naturally, by direct human activity, or secondarily by shifting ecological parameters? The Alaska wildfire and California fire season are examples of mankind’s struggle to find appropriate ways of interacting with our fragile world.

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Franklin R. Halprin (@FHalprin) holds an MA in History & Environmental Politics from Rutgers University where he studied human-environmental relationships and settlement patterns in the nineteenth century Southwest. His research focuses on the influences of social and cultural factors on the development of environmental policy. Contact Franklin at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

Featured image courtesy of [Famartin via Wikipedia]

Franklin R. Halprin

Franklin R. Halprin holds an MA in History & Environmental Politics from Rutgers University where he studied human-environmental relationships and settlement patterns in the nineteenth century Southwest. His research focuses on the influences of social and cultural factors on the development of environmental policy. Contact Frank at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

The post Man vs. Nature: When Do We Intervene in Wildfires? appeared first on Law Street.