Most encouraging, there was no significant opposition. True enough, Muir and Colby had urged Sierra Club members in August 1907 to protest San Francisco's plans. However, the members had not responded as the directors might have wished. It was soon evident that the club was hopelessly divided, floundering in dissension and disarray. The Hetch Hetchy issue revealed a deep schism, somewhat along geographical lines. Many of the San Francisco members favored municipal use of the valley, while those at greater distance shared Muir's view The club would not speak with one voice on this issue. Hermann Schussler, the skilled SpringValleyWater Company engineer, and Marsden Manson, both members, fell on the side of the dam, and they influenced others toward rebellion.
For many, it was a painful decision. The case of Warren Olney bordered on a Greek tragedy. He was one of the original organizers of the club in 1892, and it was in his San Francisco law office that the founders gathered to draw up the articles of incorporation. He was an avid mountaineer and a great admirer and friend of Muir. However, Olney had moved to the East Bay and served as mayor of Oakland. From that perspective the line between public good and national park protection became blurred. He struggled with his advocacy of a regional water supply and his love for the Hetch Hetchy Valley, which he had visited and enjoyed. Reluctantly he stepped across the line to the San Francisco side. In the years to follow, Olney and Manson would argue furiously on behalf of the city. For Olney, in particular, the fight was not without personal anguish. Later his daughter revealed that "after twenty years of pioneering service and close friendships" in the club, his resignation was a bitter pill. So bitter, his daughter recalled, that "the Hetch Hetchy project was never afterward a permissible topic of conversation in our household."1
On the national level, Gifford Pinchot's position was crucial. As earlier mentioned, the influential forester argued in favor of San Francisco's case, but he professed to still have an open mind. He promised John Muir in September 1907 that the two would meet, since Pinchot seemed unaware that Hetch Hetchy comprised a significant part of Yosemite National Park.2 The meeting did not take place, and Pinchot avoided visiting the valley or directly engaging with any of Hetch Hetchy's defenders.
However, Muir and Pinchot were not so alienated as the standard narration would suggest.3 The friendship between the two men worked well in the late nineteenth century, but deteriorated in the twentieth. According to Pinchot's biographer, Char Miller, the two first met in the Adirondacks in 1882. They spent a few very enjoyable days hiking together, Pinchot assuming the role of student to his well-known mentor. Muir found Pinchot an intelligent, adventurous young man, at home in the woods, unfazed by inconvenience, and like Muir, oddly eager to "relish, not run, from a rainstorm." Pinchot was Muir's kind of person, and the two hiked often and conversed even more.4
Their friendship became strained in 1897, when the two men served on the National Forest Commission, charged with evaluating President Cleveland's controversial forest reserve proclamations. Muir sided with the commission chair, Charles Sprague Sargent, who believed the reserves ought to be inviolate. Pinchot was not so sure. Undisturbed by their lack of harmony, Muir and Pinchot still often walked together, arguing, agreeing, and ultimately confiding in each other.Yet they did not share a common view regarding the intrinsic value of living species. Their differences were apparent in a trifling incident when the two men camped together in the Grand Canyon. On that escapade Pinchot recalled that when they "came across a tarantula he wouldn't let me kill it. He said it had as much right there as we did.."s Muir defended the life of one of the most feared, least loved noxious spiders known to man. Pinchot could see no reason why the tarantula should live, and was quite prepared to crush its life away. It had no real benefit to man that Pinchot could identify. Muir intervened because of his respect for all life, sentient or not. Every living being had its place in the broad scheme of things, and "lord man" should not needlessly intervene or attempt to divine what that purpose might be. Pinchot was inclined to exert his power through a well-placed boot stomp. Muir urged, indeed demanded, human restrain. If we substitute a valley for the tarantula, we can understand what was at the heart of their disagreement over Hetch Hetchy.
Supposedly, the final break occurred in September 1897 in a Seattle hotel lobby, when Muir marched up to the forester with a newspaper in hand which quoted Pinchot as saying that sheep grazing in forest reserves did little harm. When Pinchot admitted to the quote, Muir, according to biographer Linnie Marsh Wolfe, gave his ultimatum: "Then if that is the case, I don't want anything more to do with you.."6 However,Wolfe may have taken some journalistic liberties. Three months after the Seattle encounter, a letter from Muir expressed his delight in hearing from Pinchot, writing that he would "be glad to hear how you succeed in your forest plans."7
Sheep may not have spoiled the relationship, but Hetch Hetchy did. Their differences had much to do with politics. Pinchot believed in the art of the possible, always weighing the needs of human beings in his equations. The forester understood that in the world ofWashington he would do his best to respect the natural world but if human needs intervened, there was no question where he stood. Muir had the luxury of being both critic and advocate. Since he had no political ambitions and was beholden to no person or group, he could speak, write, and defend the natural world with an eloquence and purity seldom heard. He surely understood politics, and he was not indifferent to human needs. He always maintained that San Francisco deserved, indeed must have, an adequate water system. But whether it was water or sheep, he believed in what we might call "zoning for nature."There were places where cities might find water and herders could fatten their sheep, but in that determination the natural world must have a voice.
Muir provided that voice in no uncertain terms. When it came to Hetch Hetchy, Muir had a difficult time maintaining civility with those who disagreed with him. He felt too deeply and too passionately to be a detached diplomat for the Hetch Hetchy Valley. This inflexibility sometimes worked against him. In retrospect, Muir may have lost an opportunity to save his valley when he failed to explore fully Pinchot's, Roosevelt's, and even Manson's view that San Francisco would be willing to develop first the Lake Eleanor site, leaving the Hetch HetchyValley for a later date, perhaps So years hence. Muir might have vigorously probed this option, seeking compromise and gaining a lengthy time extension for the valley, and perhaps preserving it for all tune. H
Much of Pinchot's position flowed from his belief that the use of Hetch Hetchy for a water supply represented the greatest good for the greatest number of people. Beyond that dictum, so firmly embraced by many of the California Progressives, he was convinced that a very innocent Muir and his friends were blind to the public power issue. It was Warren Olney, the most influential club rebel, who portrayed the Sierra Club board and his former friends, as well meaning but naive dupes. In defending the valley, they had allied the club with the Spring Valley Water Company, which, of course, opposed the development of the Hetch Hetchy for very different reasons. Even more serious, the club had unwittingly become the mouthpiece for the Pacific Gas and Electric Company, incorporated in 1905. Although Muir would often rant about the "capitalists" ransacking the national park, there was much irony in the charge. Many observers, and certainly the San Francisco press, believed the Sierra Club was not defending the valley but rather private monopoly. In opposing public power, the club seemed not only to protect exploitive capitalist enterprise but to care little for human life. Writing to President Roosevelt, Robert Underwood Johnson felt it necessary to clarify his position. "Human life is more sacred than scenery," he assured the president, "and if it were the only alternative, sooner than see the city or California go without an abundant supply of good water I would cheerfully dam up theYosemite itselfl"9
With discord as its password and its supposed disdain for human life part of its image, the small coterie of nature lovers were in trouble. The condition of the Sierra Club paralleled the physical health of its leader, whi
ch was not good. Caught up in three bouts of the "grippe," similar to influenza, in early March 19o8, Muir wrote Johnson that the disease "came near making an end of me." To his friend Theodore Lukens he confessed the illness had caused "anxiety & sorrow & sickness" making him "barren and useless.."11' In early 19o8 the survival of the Hetch HetchyValley was in serious doubt.
As the year wore on, both sides continued their lobbying efforts in Washington. Muir urged Roosevelt to give the city only Lake Eleanor. He asked that "the special pleaders," the "graft lawyers," and those involved with the "miserable dollarisk squabbles" be turned aside. He also had harsh words for Phelan and Benjamin Ide Wheeler, Roosevelt's friend and the head of the University of California. Roosevelt responded, suggesting a softer tone. Muir ought "not run down those men too much. Benjamin Ide Wheeler and other good fellows are among them." In the meantime Roosevelt assured Muir that he was trying to follow a path that would spare the valley for at least a generation. But then he added, "I must see that San Francisco has an adequate water supply.""
Roosevelt's concluding sentence suggested an ominous note. Shortly after the letter exchange, Secretary Garfield received an eight-page petition, dated May 7, 19o8, from City Engineer Manson. He formally asked that the secretary reopen San Francisco's application for water rights. He apologized for sending copies of maps of location, for the original maps had been destroyed in the fire following the earthquake. The most significant section of the application contained Manson's duplicitous treatment of the Hetch Hetchy Valley and Lake Eleanor. Convinced that the city could not afford to develop Lake Eleanor without the Hetch Hetchy site, Manson urged that the government grant the use of both sites. The city engineer promised to develop Lake Eleanor first, but San Francisco would determine the time frame. In further clarification, stipulation 3 read: "The City and County of San Francisco will develop the Lake Eleanor site to its full capacity before beginning the development of the Hetch Hetchy site, and the development of the latter will be begun only when the needs of the City and County of San Francisco and adjacent cities, which may join with it in obtaining a common water supply, may require such further development."12 The two statements in concert clearly declared that San Francisco would not invade the Hetch Hetchy Valley until such time as the city had a demonstrated need for more water. As Pinchot suggested, that time would probably not come for at least fifty years.Yet if approved, the petition would put the power of decision in the hands of San Francisco. The city would decide when it was time to submerge the Hetch Hetchy Valley, and neither the public nor the government need be consulted. Approval of the petition required great faith that the city would spare the Hetch HetchyValley until need required otherwise.
Secretary Garfield approved the San Francisco petition only four days after receiving it, suggesting that he had previously consulted with Roosevelt, and perhaps Pinchot, and had fully intended to grant San Francisco its wish ever since the evening meeting in June 1907. Armed with an opinion from the attorney general, the secretary believed that he had the full authority to grant water development in a national park. The grant would provide the greatest benefit to the greatest number-a catchall axiom of the Progressive reformers. Furthermore, it authorized development of a hydropower system to be constructed and owned by the city. For transportation San Francisco would build and maintain a highway from the Big Oak Flat Road. Picking up on Manson's postponed use of the valley, Garfield declared his appreciation that the city would not invade Hetch Hetchy until its needs exceeded the water supplied by Lake Eleanor. He was encouraged that the city "has expressed a willingness to regard the public interest in the Hetch Hetchy Valley and defer its use as long as possible." To his critics he described how the lush meadow will become "a lake bordered by vertical granite walls." The meadow, somewhat unusable and mosquito infested, will become "a lake of rare beauty"13
The Garfield grant represented chapter two of the controversy, a clear victory for San Francisco. It contained the arguments put forth by the city, and in a sense it was merely the fruition of the ideas of Phelan and Manson, harmonized with the social philosophy of Pinchot and Roosevelt. There was, unfortunately, a misplaced faith in the metropolis. In signing the grant, Garfield relinquished the federal government's power to determine the construction schedule of the proposed Hetch Hetchy dam based on a water needs assessment. The Garfield grant was so "loose" that, in classic political style, the secretary gave the city what it wanted but then assured himself and his critics that San Francisco would hold to the letter and spirit of the agreement. Muir, of course, was disappointed in the decision, but he expected it and could take some comfort in the fact that Hetch Hetchy was not immediately on the chopping block. He wrote Johnson that "theValley will escape damming most likely in our day at least," and he bolstered Colby's sagging spirit with the thought that the valley was safe for many years to come.14
No sooner had the San Francisco position been firmly established than it began to unravel. Almost immediately Congress got involved. On May 16, a scant five days after the Garfield grant announcement, Representative Julius Kahn of California introduced House Joint Resolution 184 "for the purpose of exchanging lands between the city and the federal government"15 The resolution would require congressional hearings. For the first time, the Hetch Hetchy issue would enter the halls of Congress, with a hearing scheduled for December T9o8. With their executive branch options nearly exhausted, the valley's defenders viewed hundreds of senators and congressmen as a new opportunity to promote their view toward national parks in general and the Hetch HetchyValley in particular.
The importance of a congressional opportunity became doubly apparent when the nature lovers were cut out of participation in the 19o8 Conference of Governors regarding conservation. Pinchot controlled the invitations, and with the feeble excuse that the White House room lacked space, he declined to invite Muir, Robert Underwood Johnson, and others who happened to differ with his opinions. Only J. Horace McFarland, representing the American Civic Association, received an invitation. Nevertheless, swallowing its pride, the Sierra Club board sent a greeting to the governors and President Roosevelt, reminding the assembled group that "our country has a wealth of natural beauty which is far beyond the power of human hands to create or restore, but not beyond their power to destroy." Mindful that the governors might be swayed by economic considerations, the board noted that Europe's "beauty is worth $SSo,ooo,ooo annually." America affords the world's newest "pleasure-grounds," and "tourists of wealth and fashion . . . are flocking in constantly increasing numbers to the Cordilleran system of mountains on our Western coast." The governors should make every effort to tap into this tourist bonanza, while securing for "coming generations the benefit of our scenic resources.."16 Although the Sierra Club board did not specifically mention Hetch Hetchy, the message was clear: The valley should be spared for its tourist value.
Although Pinchot denied Muir's participation, the famed naturalist made his views known from afar. When J. Horace McFarland invited his friend to make a statement on the national parks and Hetch Hetchy, Muir used the opportunity to make a passionate, although not necessarily reasoned, pronouncement:
But however abundantly supplied from legitimate sources, every national park is besieged by thieves and robbers and beggars with all sorts of plans and pleas for possession of some coveted treasure of water, timber, pasture, rights of way, etc. Nothing dollarable is safe, however guarded. Thus theYosemite Park, the beauty glory of California and the Nation, Nature's own mountain wonderland, has been attacked by spoilers ever since it was established, and this strife I suppose, must go on as part of the eternal battle between right and wrong. At present the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and certain monopolizing capitalists are trying to get the Government's permission to dam and destroy Hetch Hetchy, the Tuolumne Yosemite Valley, for a reservoir, simply that comparatively private gain may be made out of universal public loss.17
To those who argued for the replacement beauty of a reservoir, Mu
ir responded: "As well may damming NewYork's Central Park would enhance its beauty!"
McFarland made use of Muir's emotional language in his address to the assembled governors, noting that the "Retch HetchyValley of the Yosemite region belongs to all America and not to San Francisco alone.."18 McFarland's brief but dynamic talk could not turn the tide. Robert Underwood Johnson, who made an unofficial appearance at the conference, wrote Muir that he did his best but that any opponents of San Francisco were "all considered sentimentalists." In truth, Muir's inability to see the issue in nuanced terms diminished his arguments with such a politically sophisticated gathering.
In the meantime, Sierra Club executive secretary William Colby dedicated his efforts to a strategy for the December congressional hearings. The Kahn bill must be vigorously opposed, he argued, for if passed the act would "have a strong tendency to perfect the [Garfield] grant." Looking to the future, the savvy Colby believed that if Congress passed the act supporting San Francisco's intent, it would be difficult for a succeeding interior secretary to go against Congress by revoking the Garfield grant. Already Colby was looking to a time when James Garfield and his friend Pinchot would be relieved of power. In the meantime, however, the Sierra Club director was committed to presenting their case to Congress, primarily through "a little pamphlet in an attractive a form as possible." It would contain some of Muir's writing on the valley, as well as the best photographs available. The idea would be to present with words and photographs just what the nation would lose should Congress side with the city.19
The Battle over Hetch Hetchy: America's Most Controversial Dam and the Birth of Modern Environmentalism Page 10