Think globally, act locally.
I graduated from high school in 1973 and it was during my time at Hickman High that a new club was formed called the Biology Club1. It was a fun program where we acquainted ourselves with the environmental challenges in our small city, chief of which was transforming Flat Branch Creek. I will never forget that walk we took along the creek, often wading into the shallow pools. It started at the spring, which I never knew existed until that day, pouring forth from beneath Broadway near the intersection of Providence Road. It passed the ice house (which was still in operation, believe it or not), behind a gas station, then the remnant of the MKT rail yard. Not sure, but it may have still been in operation, feeding lumber supplies to LaCrosse Lumber. Then came what may have been a concrete plant (can’t remember the details, but it was a colossal mess). A quarter mile later we crossed under Providence Road in front of the University of Missouri power plant.
Up until that point, the most distinct thing I remember was the lifelessness of the stream. I literally did not see a living creature in the water. Researchers had noted this previously and were using our little expedition to gather data. And what little life emerged remained scarce throughout most of our journey down the stream until it wound itself by the old rock quarry and down to Stadium Boulevard. We crossed under the highway and observed the sewage treatment facility spewing out “treated” water that still had this peculiar odor to it.
It was during that time that I was exposed to the mantra “think globally, act locally.” I liked the concept. Even as a teenager, it was apparent that some problems are so big that the only way you can make sense of it is to apply it to your own community; or better yet, your own back yard. It fit nicely with another program I participated in: 4-H. Over the years the theme that affected me was “self-responsibility.” It’s activities were project-driven. I did not do something to earn a merit badge, although some activities had ribbons. I cured blue ribbon hams and in the process learned a lot about how meat is processed. Something you take for granted at the grocery store like ham or bacon, I learned involved many things including how to judge the quality of cut, the affect of various cure mixes and the added charm of smoking meat.
But the biggest activity I had in 4-H was the outdoors program. It was here that I combined some skills I picked up in Boy Scouts with life experiences from our annual fishing trips to Canada. And as kids like me experienced monthly campouts, field trips and workshops, we learned about our community. It was here that our parents helped form the Pinnacles Youth Park in north Boone County, a living laboratory where all the things you learn in 4-H outdoors and in school are put to use in this amazing place. And aside from all that, it was the first place where “think globally, act locally” began to make sense. It was here that what limited resources we possessed we can at least apply and make a difference.
And, over the years, it was in Columbia that the community could take one project and make a difference. Flat Branch creek was the world pollution problem in miniature. It was the real “Silent Spring.” What has evolved over the decades is nothing short of remarkable. It would be a model by which other communities could follow, the process of stopping or reducing the sources of pollution, bringing life into the stream, and it would be that life that would transform it into a richer biodiversity. Today Flat Branch is a pleasant stream with both natural and urban landscapes. Where heavy and light industry once prevailed is now a mixture of parks, restaurants and offices. The sewage plant was closed down with treatment facilities moved further downstream along Hinkson Creek. Like most vibrant streams, the stream valley was subjected to regular flooding. This was steered towards another advantage, providing the foundation for wetlands, ponds and walking trails. The old railroad was transformed into the KATY Trail, which would eventually evolve into a 200-mile long state park.
All this made sense because the people literally bought into the idea. The people approved the special taxes and the people use it. It was not imposed by some state or federal regulatory agency. It addresses something we see and feel every day. It isn’t some theoretical concept way out there like “climate change.” It is quality of life – in every sense of the word.
Twenty years ago I moved up to Alaska and for a few years I had the amazing opportunity to be a trail guide. Tourists from around the world would follow me up mountain trails to experience, if only for a few hours, the amazing wonder of life in the wilderness. And yet, when it came to the diminishing glacier, someone would ask how, or whether, it was caused by man-enduced global warming. My reply was that the glaciers have been melting for the past 15,000 years in this part of the world, dropping nearly 4,000 feet over that period of time. Man wasn’t affecting much then, and it is speculative on how much our activities have affected the melting rates today.
But then it would pop into my head, “Think globally, act locally.” Our concerns begin at home. You could see in the reactions of some of the tourists that this was a tough challenge. Reducing carbon emissions is not somebody else’s problem. If it is a problem, it is your problem. Take ownership of it. I have three children who live in cities – and two of them do not own a car! Problem solved. It has affected where they live and how they live. They routinely walk, not for recreation and exercise, but to pick up the groceries. I rode the bus a lot, and so do they.
And so it is I am now the owner of “Rachel’s Prairie,” part of this once-massive five acre yard that my dad had developed. And the first question I asked was “Why?” Some of the worst pollution we generate is from lawn mowers. The highest concentration of herbicides is not on our commercial farms, but on our lawns. Just to kill dandelions? So it begins here, in my back yard. We started Rachel’s Prairie a few years back, transforming one acre of grass into a living laboratory of prairie recovery. Last year, I took another half-acre and set it aside for a prairie project. The nearby garden that is slowly evolving over the past few years is basically self-sustaining, where perennial plants and vines are augmented by hardy, low-labor plants, using no-till techniques. Fruit trees are being researched that are resistant to fungi and pests (could use your advice). And borrowing from permaculture techniques, a deceptively randomized and somewhat disorderly landscape will be budding with life.
The results are still rolling in and nothing will be conclusive for many years. But Rachel’s Prairie holds substantially more moisture. I am seeing wasps, bees, moths and butterflies everywhere. Insect-eating bird species are re-appearing such as flycatchers, warblers and vireos. Resident raptors have kept the squirrel population down. I typically identify sixteen bird species each evening I sit outside. Gosh, I love this place!
But here is an important point. I would like everyone to do this, but I will never require it of anyone.
© Copyright 2024 to Eric Niewoehner
- Believe it or not, the Biology Club is still a thing at Hickman High School. Check out a recent posting of their activities. ↩︎