Recent comments

The concern with transplanting elk is that the animals might be carriers of chronic wasting disease and so it's unfeasible at this point in time.

Excellent post, Jeremy. I'm glad the NPS is taking conscious efforts to protect the night sky. I love the idea of motion detection and shielded lights.

What is not disputed is that GCNP has been polluted by Catholic hate messages in the form of bronze plaques at various points along the south rim. I've seen them myself, and they still make me want to vomit. The obsessed nuns involved chose particulary disgusting phrases from their mythology, demanding that park attendees worship their god OR ELSE. If only I'd had a vial of etching acid with me...

Couldn't it be argued that the Presidio has already been sold off to the nearest bidder? Certainly it now resembles less a national park than it does a business park. Having the Presidio managed as a for-profit unit of the NPS severely weakens the notion that parks are managed first for conservation, then for recreation. The self-sufficient management objective of the Presidio is a direct threat to the 389 other park units around the country. Instead of describing this as glass half-full, I'd describe this as glass shattered on the ground broken beyond repair.

Ranger X, Doesn't those precious and poetic letters written of the Civil War part of the "big picture"?...the devastation and emotional pain of losing family members...the human carnage and choas of this war is deeply engrained in those scarlet sacred letters. I'm not a historian but I believe Walt Whitman expresses this in his writings. Read his poem on "Drum Taps"!

I'm entering the fray late, but would like to make a some points. I, like Jim, have a history degree. Historians generally shun antiquarianism, which is the study of the past just for the sake of the past with little emphasis on context or the greater significance of items or events. History focuses more on the big picture, the forest instead of the trees. Preserving each little battle field just for the sake of preserving the battlefield often seems antiquarian to me. Civil War buffs are often antiquarian, focusing on re-enactments and the trivia of battles rather than on the big picture of the Civil War. Also to address Jim's comment about the Oregon lighthouse: I learned in public history class that just because something is old, that does not necessarily mean it's historical. I learned how to research and nominate buildings and places for the National Register of Historic Places. There are very stringent guidelines for what makes something historical. A 150-year-old buidling isn't necessarily historical; it must have significance to be considered historical. I think the same can be true for battlefields. I think preserving these places as open space is sometimes more important than preserving them because a battle was fought there. On the other hand, some battlefields can yield valuable scientific data as forensic science improves. A recent study on the distribution of shell casings at the Battle of Little Bighorn comes to mind.

Your point, Jim, finally comes down to activism. If we wish to preserve these places because they have a value to the collective culture (which seems in part a good summary of the NPS mission statement), the only way to do that is for individuals to gather and fight for it. In a way, the parks gather value through the same sort of representative democracy through which our laws "gather value". It's true, historically, that many of these places were set aside outside a purely democratic process (railroad interests, tourism industry, and other lobbies were more involved at times). But to point to that as an absence of the collective value of these places is to criticize our representative democracy and its ability to be bought and sold - it is not a criticism of these places' intrinsic collective value. The only way for Americans to place value culturally on these places is to actively take a part in their preservation. This way, the voice of the majority determines what places maintain value to us historically and for future generations.

I once had the distinct experience reading George Santayana one night, reading "Scepticism and Animal Faith" of finding myself for a moment feeling as though I was stripped of all my beliefs. Then, I woke up the next day and thought the better of it. I'm not sure that those who remember the past aren't also doomed to repeat it or to pretend that someone else's past is not applicable to our own present. But, that aside, I have not argued against the value of remembering; I have not argued against preserving harsh memories; what I asked for first is why we hold one use of land as more valuable than another use? What makes some things historical and not other things? What makes something more valuable? If it's not that we are honoring great warriors, ok (I don't buy it - one doesn't need a battlefield to look at the history of all the other things, but that's really beside the point), but what makes the memory worth preserving on a scale of values? I'm thankful for Glenn's input because he's suggested something novel, not that one value is necessarily greater than another, but that there is some collective benefit or collective desire that makes something better. We could fight development because who are they to destroy what's there for everyone? We could say the same of snowmobiles in Yellowstone and Grand Teton; we could talk about mountain bikes in some parts of the national parks and oppose them on the same grounds. Just because someone values something doesn't make it better; I'm not sure a "collective" value always does, either, but at least a collective value already acknowledges a community of responsibility. The problem is that I really doubt that we have anything like collective values in our society, and the process of preservation has only been elite, rather than collective. What are our collective values? And, who is and has been our collective? Who and what has been left out? And, perhaps, that's why I'm nonchalant about battlefields; they seem to derive their existence from our assumed and arbitrary values and seem to imply an ownership over the purpose of a land (a land that actually involves a lot more than just what people did or didn't do there.) Of course, that's not to say that memories aren't valuable, or remembering battles and horrors aren't worthwhile. It is to say that I for one cannot see why anyone gets that excited about it for those reasons. But, in the fight against those who would take all our participation in the process away, privatization, development, big capital, then I can easily get excited because not only are our memories at risk, but also the entire community's stake (however broadly community is defined) in experiencing the land in its many forms (including our memories) is at risk. That's why I think we should be worried about our parks, even those parks branded "historical" parks, not because they simply meet any one of our arbitrary distinctions about what is important but because we won't even be able to participate with our numerous value judgments if these people get their way. I, for one, won't miss one of a zillion battlefield sites biting the dust for that sake, but I will miss the sense experience I have had. Others of you will feel differently and even more moved by other values (and many like Glenn for both reasons at the same time), but none of it will matter if others will arbitrate those values for us. And, that's why I'd also urge we be careful about falling into the same trap. There is a critical value at stake here; I hope we don't lose sight of it as we necessarily push other values close to our hearts. Jim

The eloquent George Santayana said it best: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." With that in mind, I would submit that preserving tangible remains of historic events is crucial to preserving their memory; there are things that cannot be taught in books or on a monitor screen. I have never had a better appreciation of the ultimate futility of war than when I visited the scene of the Battle of Verdun, one of the ghastliest episodes of World War I. I wrote about the visit on my own blog (link below) but even if I had the descriptive powers of a Hemingway, words would only provide the merest glimpse of the emotion the site evoked. As far as "valuing one set of lives over another," I don't buy that premise for a minute. The strongest thrust in the historical profession these days is seeking out the stories of those whose voices were ignored in the past: common soldiers instead of generals, factory workers instead of financiers, women, slaves, the poor and dispossessed, and so on. I'm glad that my colleagues in the battlefield parks are making sure those stories are never forgotten, just like I am now deeply involved in preserving the heritage of some small communities of pioneer farmers and fishers who struggled to make lives for themselves and their families on remote islands in the world's largest and most fearsome lake. These are all stories that should never be forgotten.

What makes one thing worth preserving over another is our collective value of it. To those people on the Oregon coast, that lighthouse held a significance culturally to the group. To them, it is worth preserving. I believe that Americans hold these places to be culturally valuable as places of remembrance and reflection. If others find it more valuable as real estate, that's up to them (it's unfortunate, but I think the majority of Americans value these lands as sacred rather than as commercially valuable). I think your implication that preservationists value one set of lives (those lost in war) over others is simply untrue. There are historic sites of all kinds, not just battlefields, which we preserve to remember our American past (triumphs and mistakes, alike). You seem to be saying that battlefield preservationists value these places because they are sites of violence. This is also not true. Some of the most peace-loving people I know are those who value these lands and fight for their preservation. I am myself a peace activist and it is this reason that I value the battlefields of the Civil War, Indian Wars and other places we've preserved across the country... to remind us of where we've been. We who love the parks love these places (whether it's Yosemite or Gettysburg) because they are valuable to our collective culture. Everyone must find for themselves the reason they value them.

Owen, thanks much for the detailed comments. I hope they allow more 2 minute statements at the remaining listening sessions. I can understand the need to prevent grandstanding on pet issues, but getting the chance to hear how others envision the Centennial Initiative is important. I am glad to read that both Bomar and Kempthorne were actively listening to their constituency.