I must confess that I have never been much of a nature lover.
I am a typical city slicker who grew up on steaming asphalt in a
concrete jungle. Central Park was as rural as I wanted my
environment to be. One of my most unhappy childhood memories was
of being sent upstate to a little farm in Walton, NY. by the
Fresh Air Fund. It should have been a nice respite from the
barrio but I couldn't wait to get home. I was scared of the cows,
the horses, the bulls, the insects, the frogs and the skunks.
Yuck!
My attitude didn't improve as I grew older. In adulthood I had an
airline job that allowed me to travel far and wide and the most
beautiful place I ever visited was the city of Grasse near the
French Riviera. This is the city known for the production of the
world's perfumes and is situated among hills that are covered
with aromatic flowers of incredible beauty.
My fellow tourists had their cameras out clicking away at the
grandeur of this natural Eden but I was young and foolish and
bored stiff. I was equally unimpressed by the breathtaking sunset
over Waikiki Beach in Honolulu so that should give you an idea of
what a lamebrain I was.
Fortunately, as I enter the autumn of my years, I've come to
appreciate what I used to take for granted in my youth. I also
feel this need to acknowledge a debt that we all owe to those
who've devoted their lives to preserving the bountiful natural
resources of this great country of ours.
Some talk- show conservatives are fond of the expression
``environmental wackos'' when referring to extremist
conservationists that wreak havoc on developers. In New York,
they recall the infamous snail darter controversy that halted the
completion of Manhattan's Westway West Side Highway in the
1960's.
The darter was a small fish living in the Hudson river that the
environmentalists claimed would be endangered by the highway
project and they successfully obtained injunctions against the
proposed work which to this day has never been completed.
Unfortunately, this incident stereotyped all environmentalists as
extremists and while in some cases, this accusation might be
valid, it certainly does not apply to dedicated conservationists
who wish to preserve the planet.
In the late sixties and early seventies, pollution was a serious
threat to the health of the planet. The Cuyahoga River in Ohio
was so polluted, it actually caught fire and the fear of the
``greenhouse effect'' on the earth's atmosphere led to a spurt of
theatrical disaster films about the topic.
One of the most interesting of these films was one called,
``Soylent Green.'' It was an apocalyptic story of a futuristic
New York City ravaged by pollution and food shortages. The sky is
perpetually gray and the air is yellow with smog. In one
memorable scene, a character portrayed by Edward G. Robinson opts
to accept government assisted suicide to escape this hellish
existence.
As the drugs ending his life enter his system, he is treated to
wide screen images of beautiful pastoral scenes of an earth that
he had never seen and no longer exists. His eyes mist at the
sheer majesty of the waterfalls, the verdant hills and clear blue
skies.
I remembered this scene from the movie as I was riding back home
from a car trip to Florida. It had been raining heavily and after
it stopped, the clouds cleared, and the sky turned a beautiful
shade of blue streaked with a rainbow. The sides of the road were
lined with huge palms that swayed in the wind and everywhere
there was greenery and healthy plant life.
If there had not been enough activists thirty years ago concerned
about the ecology, perhaps that movie scenario might have become
today's reality. I am grateful that there are people in the world
who are nature lovers and have the energy and drive to press for
environmental prudence from the government, the manufacturing
industries and the real estate developers. It is this activism
that has produced the necessary anti-pollution legislation that
halted much of the damage to our ecosystem.
Here on Staten Island, there is a spot on Mount Moses where you
can stand and pretend you're in the Adirondacks. This magnificent
point of view is possible because the mountain is composed of
landfill left over from a highway project that was scheduled to
cut through the Greenbelt. When I first moved to Staten Island
over 21 years ago, I remember seeing signs that read, ``Save the
Greenbelt.'' I had no idea what this meant but I'm so glad enough
people did.
I'm also glad that there are environmentally friendly developers
like our own Richard Nicotra who works with conservationists on
his real estate developments. His Atrium office complex in
Bloomfield was the only commercial development to win the
``Building with Trees Award of Excellence'' given by the National
Arbor Day Foundation. His concern with protecting rather than
destroying indigenous plant life at work sites is a model
attitude for all developers.
This week's newspapers reported that this year's Christmas tree
at Rockefeller Center is the tallest ever. This majestic 100
foot-tall Norway spruce was cut down in Connecticut and
transported to Manhattan. The owner of the spruce, Cathy Thomson,
was quoted as saying that the tree was at the end of its life and
``it's kind of a nice way for it to go.''
That's one way to look at it, I suppose, but I think it's about
time for the Center to think about getting an artificial tree
like the rest of us ``nature lovers.''