Free Niagra
I love travelling with my daughter. Generally speaking, when you think of spending over 40 hours in a car with someone, you think some duct tape and a billy club are going to come into play before the car ride is over. But she and I just have a thing together. We just got back from a cross-country trek that took us through 16 states and the District of Columbia, and as we drifted in on fumes through the dusty, sunbaked plains of Eastern Colorado, I actually rued that it was coming to an end. Along the way, we had the opportunity to make a pit stop at Niagara Falls. I highly recommend it if you ever have the chance to go. The majesty of the thundering, cascading waterfalls remind us of the raw force of nature and the sublime methods through which it often takes shape. But this is a story about how it got there.
Well, not the Falls themselves primarily. They, of course, have always been there, or at least as far back as we may know of it. It is Niagara Falls as it stands today to which I refer. That is the basis of this piece, for it was not always as it is now, and the path of how it got here can be a formidable lesson for us of where we go from here.
As my daughter and I prepared to descend the long, dank elevator ride to the Cave of the Winds walk along the banks of Bridal Veil Falls, they had us watch an 8-minute documentary on the history of Niagara Falls. The first known European in the area was Father Louis Hennepin, a French priest who was so awestruck by the sight of the Falls during his 1678 expedition that he wrote about it in his later account, thus bringing the Falls to the attention of the western world. The opening of the Erie Canal in the 1820s triggered a massive influx of tourists, and in 1846, The Maid of the Mist made its maiden voyage, taking visitors mere feet from the bottom of the falls.
But by the 1870’s, the land surrounding Niagara Falls had been carved up by private ownership, leaving sightseers with limited access to the Falls, often having to pay a fee just to get a restricted glimpse through a peephole. Industrialization, meanwhile, threatened to carve up Goat Island to further expand commercial development, and the flow of water to the Falls was greatly restricted, leaving the falls a ghost of their true self.
That’s when something truly amazing happened. Led by such notable figures as landscape designer Frederick Law Olmstead and architect Henry Hobson Richardson, a group formed to try to recover the falls. Bolstered by Frederick Church’s paintings that defined the Hudson River School style and rallied public support around the conservation of the falls, “Free Niagara”, as the group came to be known, sought to raise funds to buy back the property surrounding the falls and recommit the land to the public trust.
In 1879, the New York state legislature commissioned Olmsted and James T. Gardner to survey the falls and create “A Special Report on the Preservation of Niagara Falls”, a document that pushed forward the agenda of the preservation movement, advocating for state purchase, restoration and preservation through public ownership of the scenic lands surrounding Niagara Falls. Their efforts were rewarded on April 30, 1885, when Governor David B. Hill signed legislation creating the Niagara Reservation, New York’s first state park. In other words, it worked. And thus was born the very first state or national park in the United States, Niagara Reservation, a model that would become the harbinger of the entire national park system.
The lesson here is that there is a path back from the scourge of private ownership. While we often find ourselves decrying the impacts of industrialization and commercialization of the places we love most and lamenting the feeling of hopeless that pervades us in doing anything about it, we can recover these special places that inspire our wonder and define our sense of purpose, not by undoing or abolishing the capitalistic principles of private ownership, but by using them to our advantage.
When James Cook landed in the Hawaiian Islands, he was struck by the natural beauty that surrounded him, and he inquired as to who owned them. When the natives responded that they did not practice private ownership, Cook basically told them, “Well, you did now, bitches. And I hereby own all of that beachfront property which will be a Marriott and Four Seasons someday.” No wonder they killed his ass when he came back a second time.
But that didn’t stop other white assholes from coming and staking their claims, lands that once belonged to the entire indigenous community.
I’m not opposed to private ownership. I’m just opposed to private ownership of the special places that should belong to all of us. That’s where the Free Niagara movement comes in. It provides us a blueprint for reclaiming lands that should be open for the use and enjoyment of everyone.
And, even more, it provides us with the inspiration to believe that if there’s enough will and determination in a group of committed preservations, they can get the job done.
Steven Craig is the author of the best-selling novel WAITING FOR TODAY, as well as numerous published poems, short stories, and dramatic works. Read his blog TRUTH: in 1000 Words or Less every THURSDAY at www.waitingfortoday.com
