The Potential Environmental Benefit of the Plant

Miriam Silverman’s book Stopping the Plant explains the controversy that embroiled Columbia County from 1999 to 2005, concerning St. Lawrence Cement Company’s (SLC) plans to build a new cement plant along the banks of the Hudson river. The book is successful in that it objectively states the arguments of each group. In fact, as I read the book I found myself identifying with the arguments put forth by SLC. It seems that modern environmentalism is overly sentimental, placing too much focus on aesthetics and not actual environmental health. In many ways, this was true of the SLC debate.

Silverman outlines the debate by citing three main arguments against the plant. First and foremost, opponents of the plant were concerned with, "the potential visual impact on the beauty of the Hudson" (7). The second point of opposition included the potential adverse effects on tourism and real estate and the third dealt with the actual environmental health of the region. In my opinion, the environmental health of the Hudson River was not the central issue in this debate. Silverman devotes an entire chapter to discussing "aesthetic" and it seems that the opposition’s main concern was that the plant would look bad. The plant may not have been beneficial to the environmental health of Columbia County in particular, but the Hudson river, and the world in general, would have benefitted from the construction of this plant. Silverman points out that SLC was not ignoring environmental concerns (chapter 3). On the contrary, SLC was very concerned with environmental regulations and while the plant may have introduced new pollutants to Columbia County, the discontinuation of production at the older Catskill plant would have decreased overall emissions in the Hudson River. Silverman is very clear in illustrating that this is not a classic example of environmental activism, where the corporation stresses economic gain at the expense of the environment. Both sides argued for the environmental benefit of their particular point of view, and while the opposition did raise very real environmental concerns about potential plant emissions they failed to see the national implications their actions.

The national implications of this debate are illustrated in the first few pages of the book. Silverman explains SLC’s argument that a new plant would decrease America’s dependence on imported cement by 7% (6). Many foreign companies that produce our cement are not held to the same stringent regulations as American companies and as such, increased domestic production of cement helps to cut down on pollution in general. Furthermore, with the modern concerns of greenhouse gasses a decrease in the need to transport goods across large distances can be seen as environmental friendly. What frustrates me about this debate is that environmentalist rhetoric was used by the opposition when in fact both sides had legitimate claim to environmentalism. There is a particular example in the text that illustrates my point. Many residents of Columbia County expressed concern about the visual effects of SLC’s proposed 406 ft smokestack and the image of this smokestack was important to gathering support for the opposition. The roll of a smokestack is to help decrease emission of harmful pollutants that cause acid rain and to elevate any escaping pollutants away from humans. Silverman alludes to this in discussing the debate over its length (16). The opposition used the stack as a point of concern and a powerful image in their environmental activism. This is ironic because in many ways, the smokestack is illustrative of successes in American environmentalism. Smokestacks are only needed because of the strict emission controls placed on American companies. This particular example is indicative of a much larger point; the opposition to SLC’s proposed plant called themselves environmentalists, but their activism may not have benefitted the greater environmental good.

The Subjectivity of "Beauty"

After seeing the diagram on page 81 and the statistic that a 1999 explosion from a Holcim Plant Site damaged Ada, Oklahoma, I tried to dig up some more information to see whether Ada's story matched the Hudson's. I found this quotation from notoxicburning.com, complaining about Holcim Cement's lax environmental policies from a November 2006 update:
"Three of those are classified as "high-priority violators" by EPA, including a Holcim cement plant in Ada, Oklahoma, which was fined $321,000 in 2005 for violating its pollution limits more than 1,000 times in a single year. Despite repeated requests, Holcim has declined to share emissions data from its Oklahoma cement plant, leading one to believe that this information would be detrimental to Holcim’s Trident proposal."
Suspiciously, I could find no mention of the Ada plant on the official Holcim website, though Holcim was once an Associate Member of the Environmental Federation of Oklahoma, according to 2005 records.
I also found this, though I can't locate the date on it, which also references the Ada incident: http://www.friendsofhudson.com/research/overview.pdf

I wanted to reiterate what I said last week in class, and which Silverman speaks of in Stopping the Plant. I argued that aesthetics was a major factor in environmental planning (building a cement plant on the Hudson, playground for weekending Manhattanites, versus building one on the Arkansas river, which is dry 90% of the time anyway). Silverman illustrated that the division is much starker and deeper than pretty vs. ugly; rich vs. poor plays a large part in development as well. The Hudson Valley and Tulsa are somewhat similar in their seemingly stark economic divisions - the Vanderbilt Mansion, equivalent to the midtown mansions built by 1900s oil barons in Tulsa, next to honest, lower-class towns like Garrisson, equivalent to the West side of Tulsa, across the river and surrounded by refineries. Ada is not a tourist attraction, by far, but, as Silverman repeats, working-class individuals don't care about the view, not through ignorance, but because they can't afford to care. Environmentalism certainly is a luxury of money and time; hybrid cars are expensive and sorting through the recycling bin is not a quick process. I don't think it's coincidence that any information about the Ada incident is buried somewhere on the internet while stopping the St. Lawrence plant merits an entire book. Ironically, I did find a message board post of a woman asking if anyone knew of cement companies in Ada, as she and her husband were moving there. Someone responded with the Holcim phone number. The post dates to this past August.

Not to play my own devil's advocate, but I also wondered whether cement plants and other industrial structures could ever be considered an improvement to the landscape. There's probably no way to prove this idea, although I was reminded of the book Professor Eismeier showed us earlier in the semester defending the "Hudson Valley Ruins." I agree that the Hudson Valley, though not officially recognized by the National Parks Service as a National Park (which is absurd), has too much aesthetic and historical value to lose to a cement plant, but there are probably areas where industrialization can be considered beautiful. I personally find some kind of beauty in images like these: http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y55/silverbeam/CSM%20Blog/powerlines.jpg
http://www.europavalve.com/images/oil-refinery-crop2.jpg

Overall - and I think this is what Silverman struggled with - the end result was neither good nor bad, right nor wrong, and this moral ambiguity may have its core at the subjectivity of aesthetics.

Personal Interests in the Environmental Movements

While reading Miriam Silverman's Stopping the Plant, I noticed a striking similarity between the reasons behind the first conservationist movement and the debate (on both sides) regarding the SLC plant.
The preservation of the Palisades succeeded due to the vested interest of the wealthy in maintaining their gorgeous landscape purely for its aesthetic values. Dr. Edward Patridge, a resident of Cornwall, said “the Hudson river presents, throughout the fifteen or twenty miles of its course in the Highlands, its most picturesque and boldly beautiful section. Every American, from near or remote parts of these United States, is influenced to visit the great Hudson, and here his eye is pleased.” Patridge knew that the destruction of the Palisades would ruin the view from his private estate on Storm King Mountain. Others in the area, such as those who comprised the Hudson-Fulton Commision argued for legislation like the “Wainwright-Merritt bill” to protect wild forest growth entirely for its aesthetic beauty. The voices for the preservation of the Hudson showed little empathy for others in the community. Even if jobs created by logging companies and limestone excavators would clearly benefit the economy, the beauty of the scenery was all that mattered to those with the means to advocate for it.
In the more recent St. Lawrence Cement controversy, the two sides of the debate are also completely vested in their own personal interests. The inability to compromise showed that the groups sunk into dogmatism. As the SLC attempted to divide the community, a general class distinction still existed between those trying to make ends meet and those who viewed the Hudson as their “weekend getaway.” Even though most vacationers voiced their opinion to preserve the natural beauty of the river, they were adamant in their decision and entirely set on satisfying themselves rather than the community. Many probably justified their decision as the one best for the Valley, but could they really know about the poor looking for hope in a new job? Or could the poor and uneducated really understand the historical significance or uniqueness of beauty that was so necessary to protect?
Through it all, the similarity still exists. People care about themselves, their money, their home, and their family. The ideologies of the early conservationist movement and the SLC debate purely reflect these personal interests.

The Cultural Value of Land

Miriam Silverman provides readers with a thorough history of the six-year debate that occurred over the St. Lawrence Cement Company’s (SLC) application to build a plant on the banks of the Hudson River in Greenport, New York. Silverman’s scholarship is impressive because she does not express bias towards the arguments made by SLC supporters or the company’s opponents in her book, Stopping the Plant. By not siding with SLC or the opposition, Silverman reveals how subjective environmentalism and capitalism were during the SLC controversy, as well as the degree to which modern society’s “sense of place” has changed in the face of technological growth, capitalism, and globalization. Silverman dispels the common misconception that SLC supporters were nothing more than cutthroat capitalists during the controversy that unfolded between 1999 and 2005. By the same token, Silverman shows that SLC opponents fought the construction plan for reasons beyond its environmental risks. The controversy in Greenport, according to Silverman, did not pit environmentalism versus capitalism. Rather, this controversy was unique, and its legacy explains so much about the human race’s sense of place because SLC proponents and opponents alike were both environmentalists and capitalists.
Although SLC wished to increase production and profit by opening a new plant in Greenport, SLC was green-minded because their new, “state of the art” plant would have been more environmentally friendly than their existing plant in Catskill, New York, which SLC promised to close if the Greenport plans were approved. Therefore, SLC supporters should have been considered environmentalists in their own right because they attempted to improve the air quality of the Hudson Valley by lobbying for the construction of a “greener” plant. Similarly, SLC opposition was motivated by both economic and environmental concerns. Plant opponents were obviously environmentally conscious; they rallied against the plant’s potential pollution levels, and they believed the plant’s proposed size, design, and location would detract too much from the area’s notable natural beauty. However, plant opponents also disliked the idea of a multinational corporation reaffirming its presence within their local economy. The opposition saw the SLC as an outside giant and a remnant of industrialism that was unwelcome in Greenport’s contemporary, rural community. Thus, Silverman’s most important observation is that supporters and opponents were actually concerned with the same communal values (environment, economy, etc.), but “merely articulated these values in different ways” (114). That supporters and opponents read the same evidence but then interpreted and defended it in such different ways illustrates how humans define themselves through the areas that they inhabit. Therefore, Silverman shows readers just how far people will go to defend their own cultural values by articulating how and why the face of their land changes.

Where are the Limits?

I would like to comment more on the issues that are raised in the previous post. I think that we can apply some of the ideas that we discussed in class last week to the controversy surrounding the building of this cement plant. The most obvious connection I made was when we were discussing the difficulty that has become contemporary environmental politics. It is impossible to do or build anything today. Personally, I am not sure whether I believe that we as a nation are a bit overprotective or not, but the critics of this plant sound very familiar to the critics of that nuclear power plant that we were discussing last week. I understand that there is a difference between coal and nuclear power, but when do we as a nation draw the line in what can and cannot be build, and on what grounds we can deem something environmental hazardous. I mean I could argue with my local community that I think that the trash should not be collected every week because garbage trucks only contribute to the emissions that cars let into the atmosphere, or someone could also argue that all houses should be run with solar energy, because all other energy sources are harmful and unnecessary. In both of these cases, I would probably be laughed at or lose, but the point is that we need to draw a line between what is environmentally harmful to a certain area, community, and region, and what is not harmful. I am not sure what should be considered environmentally harmful or not, it just seems as though anyone can make any claim to a potential threat on the environment, and either delay the process of building something or stop the process all together. I think in this specific circumstance, you would have to look to the advantages of constructing a new plant and compare them to the disadvantages, and if the plant is truly an environmentally friendly plant, than it should be build based on those grounds. Another area of concern is the ability to maintain the aesthetic beauty of New York, and the potential harm a cement factor would have on this goal. This seems to mirror the Storm King Mountain argument in the sense that people will see the construction of this plant as intrusive to the mystery and beauty that is New York. This argument also follows the same thought process as the previously mentioned argument, as their needs to be a line drawn between what is and what is not acceptable. I think that the controversy over the construction of the cement plant could be lessened if each side could come to some sort of agreement about what is necessary and the limits to the environmental and aesthetic issues that surround the building of this plant.

The Plant and the Environment

When reading Silverman's book Stopping the Plant I found it very interesting how each side addressed the problem and I could not help but think how I would react if a cement plant wanted to be constructed in my community. One of the first parts of the argument that I found interesting was the debate between against SLC from the aesthetic conservation approach and the ethical conservationist approach. The passage on page 42 addresses the question of a beautiful sunset, but it is beautiful because of the sulphur dioxide in the air and this brings about the question of how our ethical inclinations should affect our aesthetic perceptions and vice versa. It brings about an issue that I had not really thought about before because see this sunset should bring about a bad taste to ones mouth if one is trying to protect the beauty of the natural environment. Also, I found it amusing how both sides were able to use primarily one document, the 1,600 page DEIS, and be able to derive completely different conclusions on the affects that the SLC would have on the economy and environment in the city of Hudson. Looking at table 4.1 it would appear that the new plant would be beneficial because old technology would be removed from old plants and the new plant would produce far more cement and have fewer environmental affects and then you read the oppositions side that got information from the same table and it seems that the plant would have a devastating affect on the environment. The oppositions argument is that cleaner is not as good as clean and that there is still an enormous amount of pollution that will be released into the atmosphere and the city of Hudson as a result of the plant. After reading the book and looking at both sides I side with the opposition because I think of how I would feel if a large, pollution creating plant wanted to be built in my town. I would be opposed because of the aesthetic reasons of not wanting to see a large, unsightly plant in the spot where acres of forest use to be. Also, the pollution it creates would bug me, but I feel the part that would bother me the most would not be knowing the amount of toxins in the air, but the aesthetic disruption that the plant would create.

Social Class in Environmental Politics

After reading Ms. Silverman's book "Stopping the Plant," it became clear to me that there was in fact a general separation in social class between those who supported the plant and those who opposed it- and this divide still exists today. Silverman includes a quote from Phillip Shabecoff, in which he describes the average members of a national environmental organization as ""mostly white, well-educated, relatively affluent middle-class professionals."" (Silverman, 70) This is certainly not the description of someone who would be lobbying for the construction of a plant on the premise it would bring them a job.

Alternatively, the main supporters of the St. Lawrence Cement Plant project seemed to fit a different description. Silverman reports thats the average household income in the City of Hudson was $24,000 as of 2000, whereas the state average at the time was nearly twice that at $43,000. (Silverman, 51) In a region with it's share of lower-class workers, the advertised concept of a well-paying job at the plant was attractive. Silverman relates the words of a plant worker in a 2002 SLC film, in which they claim ""Everyone that worked in a cement plant could buy a home. Everyone."" (Silverman, 49) Another worker goes on to state "one year's wage at the plant could buy three brand-new Chryslers." (Silverman, 49) To someone making only $24,000 a year, this would appear to be a huge quality of life increase. Yet despite all this, supporters of the plant were still seen as "less intelligent, less educated, or having a "bizarre nostalgia" for the days of industry." (Silverman, 21).

I do find this polarization worrisome, as it persists today in new environmental disputes. One of the more interesting of these modern debates focuses on the proposed wind power project off Cape Cod. While this issue is does not involve a dispute between the lower-working class and the upper-middle class, an economic polarization still exists. This time it is between the stereotypical environmentalist (see description in first paragraph) who believes that a switch to clean power is necessary and the rich elite with previously undisturbed views of the water and concerns that- besides ruining their view of the horizon- the blades of the windmills could harm migratory birds and other such ecosystems. As with SLC, both sides offer biased 'scientific reasoning' and to why their opinions are more viable, however in the end it still boils down to the conflicting beliefs and emotions of two different socio-economic groups of people. It almost seems that money, advertising, and political lobbying power matter more than the true science behind the issues...

Film about Pete Seeger

Morality in the Face of Commerce Between Albany and New York City

THIS IS SAM DUDLEY'S POST

In chapter eight, “River of Fortunes,” Tom Lewis writes about the men who commercialized Albany and New York City, as well as numerous Hudson Valley towns and cities between these two booming metropolises. Although the shipping industry had declined by 1861 in Hudson Valley cities, such as Hudson, the rise of the manufacturing industry preserved the commercial value Hudson Valley real estate. Iron manufacturing in Troy, Hudson, and Poughkeepsie made these cities important centers of commerce, and their inhabitants became increasingly wealthy. However, Lewis’ eighth chapter is interesting because he explains how a rift formed in 1861 between New York City and the cities located on the Hudson River North of Manhattan. Economic growth in New York City had not shown signs of decline for centuries until the prospect of disunion became reality. New York City’s barons and merchants had profited so much from their investments in the cotton trade, which was of course driven by slavery, that they forgot the principles of liberty and diversity that Manhattan was originally founded upon. New York City’s most powerful men, such as Mayor Fernando Wood, could not see the liberal motivation for fighting the South because they refused to look past their southern investments, and they thus rallied against president-elect Abraham Lincoln. On the contrary, Hudson Valley citizens living North of New York City supported Lincoln. The support of Lincoln in places like Hudson and Poughkeepsie demonstrates how vastly different the ideals of people living North of Manhattan were during this time period, which explains the moral divide between New York City and the northern Hudson Valley. While Mayor Wood spoke out against Lincoln and disregarded the moral worth of enslaved blacks, Matthew Vassar used his amassed wealth to build a college for women, who were then considered intellectually inferior to men. By chronicling the Albany-New York City leg of Lincoln’s 1861 journey to Washington, Lewis reveals a great deal about the accomplishments and well-founded priorities of those who lived on the Hudson River between New York’s two most economically prominent cities. In 1861, economics did not beget benevolence in Manhattan.

NYC's Insatiable Demand for Water

$500,000,000 Preservation Initiative

Women and the Hudson

Aside: I've linked the Constitution Island's store website for purchasing bracelets and cufflinks from the "Great Chain Jewelry Collection," namely because I think it's a hilarious idea and because it's a little ironic, given the subject of this post.

While Dunwell's emphasis on the role of women in the development of 19th and 20th century Hudson may be due to her graduation from Kirkland College, New York has always been a thriving area for women's rights (the first women's right convention was held in Seneca Falls in 1848 - quite a long time ago considering women didn't receive the right to vote until the ratification of the Nineteenth Amendment in 1920; likewise, Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton both had personal ties to New York state). In Dunwell's Hudson River Highlands, Dunwell states that women were not afraid to use their wealthy husbands' influence to create change, especially in environmental matters. Specifically, the New Jersey Federation of Women's Clubs had direct impact on the formation of the Palisades Interstate Park Commission. Likewise, Mary Harriman, wife to railroad entrepenuer Edward Hanley Harriman, fulfilled her late husband's ambition by creating Bear Mountain State park and the subsequent Bear Mountain suspension bridge.

I found the story in Hudson River Highlands about the preservation of Constitution Island especially moving. Home to the Warner sisters, Susan, a bestselling novelist at the time, and Anna, who wrote the lyrics to "Jesus Loves Me," the sisters struggled to make ends meet. Both women were childless, and the Island was slated to house an amusement park or summer resort if purchased by the government, adequately destroying its historical value. Anna was determined to see the Island given to West Point following her death - only with the assistance of another women, Olivia Slocum Sage, a philanthropist also responsible for expanding several campus universities, was President Roosevelt convinced to use the island for military purposes. The situation ironically resembled Jim Guinan's agreement with the General. Also, Elihu Root, of Root Hall fame, was directly involved in putting the island to good use. Copies of Sage's correspondence with President Roosevelt can be found here: http://www.constitutionisland.org/ci-giftNation.asp

Overall, I found the historical importance of women very refreshing in both readings for this week; while these women may have not been the very first to reform the Hudson (Fanny Kemble helped in her own poetic and inadvertent way), they were some of the first to do so publicly and proudly.

Hudson River Pollution and the Global Climate Crisis

The age of commerce and economic growth that swept American throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries dealt the Hudson Valley a tough card. Its rich resources became vulnerable to the bridges, roads, factories, automobiles, and people that had enhanced transportation and opportunities along the river. Factories like General Electric and Anaconda Wire and Cable dumped dangerous contaminants in the water, the Hudson River Stone Corporation blasted stone from the gorgeous mountains, and the Storm King Highway and Bear Mountain Bridge arguably imposed upon picturesque views of the valley. Seeing distinct evidence of unnatural and unsafe pollutants in and around the river, the people “bumped up against the reality that there were limits on the earth’s capacity for renewal and those limits were being reached” (Dunwell 138).
Air pollutants have pressed up against these limits as well. The introduction of greenhouse gases such as carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere has raised the average temperature of the earth and reportedly caused an increase in tropical storms, more difficulty in producing crops due to agricultural changes, and rising sea-levels due to thermal expansion and the melting of polar ice caps. The detrimental effects of this environmental problem have not been dealt with however.
The important distinctions between the Hudson River and global climate change rest on proximity and clarity. The Hudson River Valley overcame its misfortunes because of a mass mobilization of its constituents. People cared about their surroundings since the mountains and river characterized their unique community. Influential men and women in the Hudson River Conservation Society brought their concerns to Congress and indicated that they were willing to contribute for the preservation of their environment. The Hudson River Valley was “theirs,” after all.
Global climate change fails to interest as many because the problem may not have an evident effect on one’s own small constituency. To solve the problem, people must reach out to billions to increase awareness and catalyze behavioral changes. In the Amazon Rainforest, for example, impoverished people rely on burning the vegetation to produce soil rich in nutrients in order to plant foods to eat and sell. Without deforestation, these people would starve.
Another important distinction between the two environmental problems is the evidence of damaging effects. “At Tarrytown, residents knew each day what color General Motors was painting its production of trucks by the color of the Hudson, and people avoided fish from Manhattan’s waters; many even avoided walking beside it, as the stench on a summer’s day made a bankside stroll in Riverside Park almost unbearable.” (Lewis 262). The clear effect of pollution on the senses affected each person individually. Anyone who respected the natural beauty of the river or its surroundings would witness firsthand the detrimental effects of pollution.
On the global scale, those with the power to bring about change in the fight against climate change rarely experience any direct result of its damage and therefore have little personal interest in utilizing their own funds to remedy the problem. The temperature change is so gradual that it cannot be sensed. For this reason, carbon emissions keep increasing and humans won’t modify their behavior. Once effects are apparent, hopefully the tide will turn before it is too late.

Cotton, Slavery, and Steam

I think that the most interesting aspects of chapters 8 and 9 in the book The Hudson by Tom Lewis are his discussions about the importance that cotton played in the development of the Hudson River Valley, as well as the population explosions due to advancements in travel. Lewis starts his discussion about the role that cotton played in the development of the Hudson River Valley saying, "New Yorkers cared less about the question of the morality of slavery than they did about slavery's chief product, cotton...New Yorkers busied themselves with commerce without much concern for conscience." (235) I thought that this was interesting, especially the last section of the quote, because Lewis sees New Yorkers as wanting the benefits of slavery without dealing with the human rights and moral issues that surround slavery. This makes sense, though, because cotton was the chief export of the era, and the North depended on cotton as much as the rest of the globe. In fact, Lewis goes on to say that, "Every forty cents of every dollar paid for Southern cotton went to the merchants of New York City. New York merchants owned the ships that carried the cotton from the South to New York and Europe." (236) It is hard to imagine New York City as the 'cotton capital' that Lewis makes it out to be, but cotton was indeed a major part in the development and population shifts of early New York City.

As we have talked about numerous times this semester, steam was a crucial aspect of the development of the Hudson River Valley and New York City. Lewis comments on the importance of the key families in the development of the Hudson River Valley (Livingstons and Van Rensselaers), and the role that the concentration of wealth in New York City and the Hudson Valley had on the development of New York, the Northeast, and the country as a whole. The emergence of engineers in the latter half of the 19th century led to the construction of new steam power machines and boats, and the economy on the Hudson flourished. The rise in the number of immigrants is also an interesting point that Lewis talked about in his book, and I thought it was especially interesting to see the actual number of immigrants from each foreign country in New York. The development of the brick industry was also vital to the economic success of the Hudson Valley, and this dynamic river valley became the center of a developing nation.

The Civil War and the Hudson

In discussing the Civil War, most American’s think about the great battles of Gettysburg or Bull Run. Areas north of Pennsylvania are often overlooked because no battles were fought in New England and New York. The war is generally thought of as involving large numbers of troops from all across the country, but the important events seemed to take place between central Pennsylvania and Atlanta. Tom Lewis’ book reminded me of the importance of industrialized cities to the northern victory. Lewis refers to the many industrialized towns along the Hudson river that played vital roles in maintaining the North’s war machine. In many ways, the Civil War represents the worlds’ first industrial war and modern technologies like railroads and steamships were as important in their ability to transport goods and men as modern firearms were on the battlefield. For these reasons, the towns and cities along the Hudson river were central in the Union’s victory.

Lewis echoes other author’s in his discussion of industrial towns along the Hudson, which flourished as a result of the Erie Canal and New York Cities fantastic deep water ports. Lewis discusses the iron foundries in Troy (228), which were vital in the making of railroad spikes and horseshoes. Both of these goods were important to the Union army in their ability to transport troops, which is very important in an industrial war where the amount of men an army can mobilize quickly can often determine the winner of a battle. Lewis also talks about West Point Foundry (234), where an engineer named Robert Parrott developed the first modern cannons that served the Union during the civil war. The West Point Foundry also produced steam engines and locomotives, which were important for all the aforementioned reasons.

In spite of New York City’s neutral attitude towards abolitionism and succession (235) the city’s industrial prowess must have been influential in the Northern victory. Lewis states that "The 1870 census found that one of every thirty-three factories in the United States was located on Manhattan Island" (241). These numbers are indicative of Manhattan’s importance as an industrial center during the Civil War, even though the date of the census comes after the wars’ end.

Beyond the industrial towns along the Hudson River, Lewis stresses the importance of the region in training many of the officers on both sides of the war (232). Robert E. Lee and Ulysses S. Grant, two of the officers that Lewis mentions, were perhaps the two most influential people in the war’s outcome. The training they received at West Point undoubtably informed their decision making during the war. The towns and cities along the Hudson River may often be overlooked in discussions of the American Civil War. However, for the above reasons, the region was central to the North’s eventual victory.

Great Outdoors

While reading our assigned reading this week, the section that interested me the most was Dunwell's chapter on the Great Outdoors. This chapter intrigued me because I was amazed by the many examples of philanthropy and environmental preservation that were taking place along the Hudson River Valley. One of the people that I thought was very influential in preserving the land was Edward H. Harriman who took it upon himself, with the help of others including his wife when he passed, to preserve a large section of the Hudson Highlands. The preservation would cease the building of the Sing Sing prison and would provide a park of 10,000 acres to be run by the Park Commission. What is also interesting about this preservation effort was that a lot of prominent people were donating money to make sure that the beauty of the Hudson River Valley was preserved. The work of Edward Harriman and his wife Mary provided the state with a great park that to this day is still very popular and "receives more visitors annually than Yellowstone National Park" (Dunwell 159). This was pretty shocking to me because when I think of National Parks, Yellowstone and Yosemite are the ones I think of right away it it would never have occurred to me that a park along the Hudson River would receive more annual visitors. Another section of the chapter that interested me was the work by conservationists to preserve the scenic Palisades. They were being diminished at a staggering rate for construction purposes in New York City and in 1897 the public began to take action to try to preserve The Palisades. The Palisades were eventually purchased and protected thanks to the generous donations of many prominent people, including J.P. Morgan, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton Twombly as well as others and the states of both New York and New Jersey. This chapter was interesting because it illustrated the beginning of a philanthropic and conservationist movement on the Hudson River and because of the work of these people and states, part of the Hudson's natural beauty was preserved for future generations to see and enjoy.

Little Known Facts about the Hudson Valley

While our reading to this date has established that the Hudson River valley played a crucial role in many aspects of our modern life (i.e. the steamboat/ferries, industrialization, commerce), our reading this week highlighted some little known facts about the area that I found quite intruiging. For example, did you know that the manufacturer for the U.S. Treasury's secret-formula ink that made our currency "nearly impossible to counterfeit" called Troy, NY home? (Lewis, 228) The city of Troy was home to many such inventors and manufacturers, including the inventor of the detachable collar, the manufacturer of the steel plates used to armor the Northern ship Monitor, and the inventor of a machine that produced 36,000 horseshoes an hour to supply the Union Army. (Lewis, 228)

While Storm King Mountain later became the subject of a major environmental debate, it made its debut in the mid 1800's as the testing grounds for artillery designed by West Point graduate Robert Parker Parrott. Parrott is credited with bringing "the first modern cannons to American battlefields." (Lewis, 234).

The most interesting lesser-known fact about the area, however, is its rich history in the ice market, which was fueled by the popularity and usefulness of ice for preserving foods. What the industry became sounded surprisingly like what the oil business has become today. Small time ice harvesting with horses gave way to massive operations that utilized steam-powered conveyor belts to move more than 3 millions tons of ice per year. What reminded me of the modern oil industry was a move the ice companies pulled in 1895, when they joined together to form an 'ice trust.' The goal of this trust was to ""regulate prices and the amount [of ice] harvested, and hold down competition."" (Lewis, 245). Sound familiar?

Worlds Colide

Several weeks ago we read a book by Shorto that outlined the history of New York city and Manhattan’s place at the financial center of the world. This fast paced, urban world represents a stark contrast to the picturesque, seemingly timeless, world of Garrison. Little Chapel on the River beautifully illustrates the intersection between these two very different worlds that exist along the Hudson River. Jim Guinan compares the area around Garrison to his homeland of Ireland. In chapter 8, Jim discusses the mountains and river in describing Garrison’s natural beauty. Jim is not alone in these kind of descriptions. In fact, it is impossible to read this book and not get a sense for the profound effect that Garrison’s natural landscape has on its inhabitants. The author makes a point of providing a contrasting description in the first few chapters when she describes New York City; her "anonymous apartment building", the glass towers of the world trade center. What I found to be most fascinating about Guinan’s pub is that it provides an intersection of these two worlds.
Bounds spends many chapters discussing the lives of Guinan’s "regulars". She tells us about Fitz, the ex-federal marshal who won a silver star for his time in Vietnam. She introduces us to Dan, the liberal attorney who overcame a broken home to become a successful aviation lawyer. There are others too, Old Mike, the Preusser brothers, Margaret Guinan, John Guinan, Mary Ellen and Jane. These individuals make up the fabric of Guinan’s close knit community. In this world there are no bar tabs, no calculators and the bartender knows each costumers preferred beer. In the mornings, there is a large group of regular commuters, who come in to pick up their reserved newspapers and a cup of coffee. It is here that two very different worlds collide. These commuters come to Guinan’s to start their days before boarding the train into the anonymous world of Manhattan. Because of Guinan’s location next to the train station, these commuters provide valuable cash flow for the general store. Guinan’s also provides an invaluable service to these commuters.
In chapter 10, Bounds makes it clear that it is not really in the best interest of the store to open at 5 AM for the few commuters on the 5:09 train. When she asks John about the practicality of opening so early he responds with, "I guess I don’t want to be the one to those guys on the 5:09 train that they’re gonna be standing out in the dark without a cup of coffee or a newspaper"(130). This example illustrates the collision that I have been talking about. John is applying the personal ideology of Garrison. For him, running a store is more about the customers needs then economic efficiency. However, these customer’s needs only exist because they have to commute into a bustling work place that is centered on economic efficiency. In this way the hour long commute from Garrison to Manhattan covers more then just distance. This commute transports people from one completely different world into another and Guinan’s is right on the way.

Link to Article Below

Sorry the link doesn't work here is the website

http://www.nysun.com/article/61116

Article About Hudson River Paintings at Vassar

"State of Mind"

"Someone once described Garrison as a 'state of mind.' I think this quote is very fitting when describing Garrison, NY, and the security it provides Wendy in a post-9/11 world. She was living in the fast pace, information driven world that is New York City, and that world suddely changes for her on September 11, 2001. The interesting aspect of he story, however, are her actions after the attacks. She leaves New York City and moves to Garrison, NY to find refuge and to ultimately get back in touch with herself and her roots. She comment that, "In late 2001, Garrison still has no mayor, no town water and actually isn't big enough to qualify for official town status." I think that it is very interesting that in the face of the worst attack in U.S. history, Wendy decides to move away from the bllod and carnage in NYC and out to Garrison which is located on the Hudson. The mystery and beauty of this river town provide her with a sense of security, and it seems as though time has stopped in its tracks in Garrison. She feels as though she can integrate herself into the community, and she even says that, "I had never really belonged to anything, except maybe my job." Although it is hard to imagine this for anyone, itt seems as though 9/11 may have been a blessing in disguise for Wendy because she is able to reinvent herself and get into touch with who she really is. There is a passage that talks about her ability to waste time while sitting alone and waiting for a dinner companion, and I think that her move to Garrison has taught her to value certain things and experiences in her life that she had fallen out of touch with. I find the writing style of this book to be better than the last, mostly because there are not as many characters. I think it is fitting that we read this book for this class, because it gives us a real example of someone who had a life changing experience moving away from the modern world and back to the rustic world along the Hudson River.

Lake Wah Wash Kesh

While reading Gwendolyn Bounds' book Little Chapel on the River, i found myself thinking about my version of Guinan's in Canada. Every summer since my great, great uncle Herman in 1906 bought a small hunting lodge on Lake Wah Wash Kesh my family has spent every summer on the lake and although we have a great time water skiing and relaxing its the people that we see for a short while every year that make the place special. One of the greatest memories that I have on the lake is of a place called Hayward's, which is a small bakery slash grocery store. When you dock your boat and walk up to the store, which is in a small, rundown trailer, you half wonder how it could be a bakery, but then the smells of fresh baked bread and sticky buns begin guide you to the door. When you walk Gene would behind the counter with a big smile to ask how you were doing and to no fail she would always respond, "just fine, thanks." Then normally sitting in the stores "lobby" her brother Kenny, would normally be sitting there enjoying some type of ice cream bar after a hard days work. Then in the back is their sister, Ruth, who would be bringing packing up the sticky buns and bread. The Haywards are some of the nicest and genuine people I have ever met and have been a huge service on the lake. Not only have they acted as a grocery store on a lake that is an hour from any town, and provided propane for families like mine that have no electricity, they have also been a signature part of the lake, but things have recently changed. In June of 2005, Gene passed away after her struggle with lung cancer, even though she did not smoke, and Ruth has recently been struggling with her fight against cancer. The bakery no longer operates to the full capacity that it used to, but we still frequently visit just to sit and talk for a few minutes and share stories and here the "just fine thanks" that always awaits as you walk through the door. One of the reasons that makes Haywards special is not because of the sticky buns or bread, which were delicious, but because of the people that run the store and the camaraderie and lightheartedness that filled the room as you entered. The second place on the lake that reminds me of Guinan's on the lake is Bennett's Landing. The lodge, as it is mostly referred to is in its third generation of being run by the Bennetts and is in as good of shape now as it was a hundred years ago. The lodge as doubled as a hunting lodge for hunters in the winter, which the Bennetts would host the hunters and serve great meals for the wary hunters after a long day and as a lodging for the employees of the store during the summer months. The lodge has always been a very welcoming place and there have been countless times that members of my family as well as others on the lake, have slept on the couches downstairs when weather or other situations have made the trip back across the lake not possible. The Bennetts, like the Haywards, provide a great service with the store, but it is the selflessness, and friendship of the family throughout the years that make it a special place in my eyes.

Guinan's and Wee Works

Just as Wendy found an unexpected love in Guinan’s, I too discovered a place that grew on me and grounded itself into my character.
Following my 16th birthday, my parents demanded that I find myself a job. I scoured websites and newspapers, trekked around the neighborhood, and filled out dozens of applications, hoping to secure a high-paying yet laid-back form of employment that would amuse me for a few afternoons during the week.
I eventually found myself at Wee Works preschool, a relatively cute establishment where I had spent two years of my awkward childhood. Unlike Wendy, I did not feel an undeniable desire to become a member of the place from the beginning. As cute as three and four-year-olds may be, the screaming, spitting, hitting, and constant chaos that truly describe their stage of adolescence were apparent to me. I had little desire to scrub tables, clean toilets, wash dishes, and sanitize everything imaginable. However, this was the only place looking to hire an inexperienced junior in high school, and months of searching had forced me into desperation.
What occurred to me over the next two years distinctly resembles the transformation that Wendy experienced as she became integrated into the Garrison community. The character analyses she presented in her story capture the admiration she had for Guinan’s as a whole. Fitz and Jim, John and Jane, they all contributed to her understanding of sacrifice and friendship. Their deep concern for the store and pub led them to back-breaking measures to maintain its traditions and legacy.
Granted, Wee Works wasn’t in a substantial economic crunch, nor was its property sought after by condominium-building millionaires, yet the individuals comprising the school as a whole made it one of the most enriching and inspiring places to work. The children displayed their “true” nature, less influenced by media and peer pressure than those closer to my age. Small moments make up my memory, just as Fitz called Wendy a “pip,” I recall one boy telling me that my dress made me “look like a princess.” Instead of Irish Night, we would have dance parties and costume days, painting stripes on our faces and playing jungle games to the Lion King soundtrack or making eye patches and swords for Pirate Day. Beyond the hour or so I spent performing grunge work, the benefits of relaxing and playing with the kids, listening to their insights and answering their questions, and forgetting my responsibilities for a few hours every week made Wee Works an essential part of my schedule. I can’t say that I considered moving there, but Wee Works became a part of me just as Guinan’s became a part of Wendy.

Little Chapel on the River

It's always nice to see that the small-town lifestyle and values are alive and kicking, especially within the unique community of the Hudson River. Bounds' book highlights a way of life that most city people rarely get to experience (no, Clinton doesn't count), set on the Hudson River in the town of Garrison, NY.

While I found Bounds' account of 9/11 and her subsequent displacement from her apartment moving, it reaffirms my belief that sometimes it takes a significant life disruption to be able to step back and try something new. In Bounds' case, this meant leaving the busy city life and deadlines at the Wall Street Journal. I had a similar experience last semester after taking the semester off to travel the high seas with the SEA Semester program. Being able to stop and appreciate a sunset while slowly sailing up the eastern seaboard was a huge change compared to the busy college campus "daily grind" I had become so accustomed to.

What makes this such a captivating story is the fact that many people don't realize that this classic old-time American lifestyle still flourishes in the world of hybrid cars, Blackberrys, and Starbucks. While Garrison gets all the glory in this story, I would bet that every major US city has it's own small-town equivalent. Take my local big city, Washington, D.C.. Drive an hour or so in any direction and there is a wealth of small-towns just like Garrison. The Appalachian Mountains hide many such towns, complete with little general stores, family farms, and the local rendition of Guinan's little chapel on the river.

As I considered what makes Garrison and other small towns like it unique, I came to the realization that most of the places we consider to be quintessential examples of American life have a distinct natural landscape "feature" that acts as the basis of the town's culture. For Garrison it is the majestic Hudson River, while in my example it is the Appalachians, or maybe the Shenandoah River. These natural features seem to be a cultural anchors for communities- something that stays relatively constant through the progression of generations.

While I initially worried that Bounds' book would turn Garrison into another cheap tourist attraction, I was pleased to find updates on the town, pub, and its charismatic regulars on Bounds' website (http://www.gwendolynbounds.com/newsletter.htm). I found the updates on John to be particularly inspiring, and a testament to the healing power of a tight-knit community.

The Power of Personalization

While Little Chapel on the River and World's End are wildly different books - one a non-fiction account of a journalist's transplant from post 9-11 Manhattan to small-town Garrison, the other an epic of historical fiction spanning 300 years in the Hudson valley - both Gwendolyn Bounds and T.C. Boyle add the critical element of the personal to their works. Without discounting Bernstein's extensive research in Wedding of the Waters, Bernstein severed himself entirely from his subject to give an objective, informative, and, in my opinion, dry history of the Erie Canal. Comparatively, Shorto's Island in the Center of the World was much more than a chronicle of the early Hudson settlers, as Shorto clarifies in his introduction. His fascination with the origins of Manhattan stemmed from a personal curiosity, and his lively writing reflected the enthusiasm of his research.
Likewise, Boyle and Bounds both have personal ties to the Hudson area. Boyle was raised in Peekskill, which he fictionalizes as Peterskill in World's End. Bounds' investment in Garrison is the basis and bulk of Little Chapel. In World's End, Boyle expands his available audience by fictionalizing history - whether the account of the van Brunts, van Warts, and Crane family is historically true, or even accurate, is beside the point. Personally, I felt Boyle's story was far more educational than any article, text book, or primary source could be. By personalizing the patroons and natives of the Hudson Valley, Boyle manages to simultaneously entertain and educate - without quoting Rousseau directly, he still echoes the inherent evil of private property, as later advocated by Marx. Likewise, without detailing the specifics of the governmental processes of the time, he criticizes their irrationality. Boyle's use of parallel timeframes is not only the mark of masterful story-telling (he received his MFA from the Iowa Workshop, the most prestigious Creative Writing program in America - more bluntly, he definitely deserves all his accolades, and I'm pretty jealous of his literary success), but allows subtle allusions about the inherent traits of Hudson Valley inhabitant, and of people themselves. Walter's death is a direct echo of Harmanus's, perhaps suggesting the inescapable trait of greed in humans. Walter's promiscuity also shadows Joanna's and Mardi's - regardless of their class, race, etc, these characters suffer the same need to be unfaithful. I wonder if Truman Van Brunt can be read as a self-portrait of Boyle himself, solely through the mutual mark of obsession - Truman's magnum opus as the impetus for his abandoning Walter seems anti-climactic, or at least Walter thinks so, but I wonder if Truman is perfectly rational to Boyle, since his own magnum opus probably required as much effort. Whether it had similar repercussions, I don't know.
Boyle subtly personalizes history; Bounds' personal account in Chapel overwhelms the economics she may have been trying to address. There were a few dozen instances in Little Chapel on the River where I wondered what Bounds was aiming for - the inclusion of the "bonus puppy" still seems like unnecessary sentimental detail - and, ironically, I found the organization in Bounds' book much more aggravating and confusing than World's End. Though the book has been touted for its "charm," I felt the overall message of the book could have been a little more assertive. Though I have scant knowledge of economics, Chapel seemed like it could have been a good case study of the dying mom-and-pop establishments of small-town America and the need to preserve them. The book is its own message, though - Chapel serves as the best form of publicity for Guinan's, and I'm sure the bar has tripled its business since publication. (According to gwendolynbounds.com, the only recent piece of news concerning Guinan's is the death of LouLou the dog, so presumably the business hasn't drowned yet.) The italicized portions at the end of the chapters added little to the book, and I suspect the publisher, or Bounds herself, was rushed to print the book (though it came out in 2005) to capitalize on the "post 9-11" label. I found Bounds' details of September 11th to be the strongest part of the book. Though the book is enjoyable, the cynic in me wonders what her real mission was in writing.

Northwest Passage

Port Albany

Walter Van Brunt

Throughout the history of the Van Brunt family there seems to be a continual trait of deception, lying and bad luck. These traits are seen in the seventeenth century and carry over to the descendants of the family in the twentieth century. The book starts in the twentieth century with the terrible accident that has left Walter Van Brunt an amputee from his right shin down. Walter was involved in a motorcycle accident that left him an amputee but was it an accident that he could have avoided. It seems that Walter was destined to have bad luck. The first part of the book continues to reveal more of the unfortunate events that have transpired throughout his life like the riots in 1949 that left his mother dead and revealed the deceitful side of his father, Truman. The bad luck does not stop here for Walter. Later, after the first accident that left him without his right foot, he was out on New Years with Mardi Van Wart, while his wife was at home, and again crashed his motorcycle this time losing his left foot. Walter, it seemed, was destined to have a rough life. He was living an unfaithful life but bad things continued to happen to him and he would soon find out that bad luck was commonplace for Van Brunt's. Towards the end of the book Walter meets with his dad and finds out what happened on that fateful day in 1949 that left his mother dead and Walter to be raised by Lola and Hesh. Upon meeting with his father he finds out about his mothers death and that he is not so different from his father. Both of them were unfaithful to their wives and both seemed to be destined to have bad luck. In the end of the meeting we find out that Walter had been named after his ancestor, Wouter. His ancestor, like himself and his father, was a deceitful, bad person and their was no use trying to fight fate anymore for Walter because three hundred years later the the Van Brunt's had not changed; badluck was in his families blood and bones.

Progression of Time in "World's End"

When I initially began reading T.C. Boyle's "World's End," I was confused by the way Boyle skips between both the past and present in introducing his characters. I had been told to expect this, however I noticed that as the book progresses this theme of historical chaos continues. Although I had adapted to his writing style, the way Boyle constantly alludes to similar historical events indicates a theme of cultural progress, or as it appears, the lack thereof.

Examples of these allusions include the comparison of the U.S.S. Anima and the 1699 wreck of William Kidd's Quedah Merchant (pg 12/14), the mention of Revolutionary War figures on Walter's ride home (pg 17), and later in the book as Depeyster peruses a biography of General Israel Putnam dating back to the 18th century (pg 161). While these specific allusions exist, it is the theme of lack of cultural progress that is most powerful. It is almost as if Boyle is suggesting that we have not learned from history- from our historical ancestors.

An example of on a character basis is found in Walter, who is following his father down the slippery slope of depression, danger (their similar motorcycle injuries), and alcohol abuse. On the cultural level this lack of progress is evident in Boyle's references to American literature, specifically his character Sasha Freeman's "Marx Among the Mohicans" (titled similarly to Cooper's novel "Last of the Mohicans").

Overall, Boyle is implying that American culture has not progressed due to its inability to learn from historical mistakes- mistakes that could have been avoided through the transfer of wisdom and values typically associated with the passing of generations.

The Art of Industrial Ruins

Walkway Over Hudson

Great exhibit of Hudson River Paintings

Closes January 13.

The Two Canals

A comparison between George Washington’s privately financed Potomac River canal and the publicly funded Erie Canal offers a striking exception to the common conception of efficiency. Most would argue that a profit-driven corporation with a strong financial base would have a greater chance of success than an unaffected group of disconnected politicians scrounging for pennies. Thomas Jefferson even said “public undertakings are carelessly managed, and much money spent on little purpose.” However, in the years building up to the construction of the Erie Canal in 1817, the opposite occurred.
George Washington was one of the first to identify the importance of connecting the developing west with the backbone of the United States along the eastern coast. He indicated how “one channel, supplying the wants [and] increasing the wealth … of each great section of the empire, will form an imperishable cement of connection, and an indissoluble bond of union.” With this perfect link in mind, The Patowmack Canal Company attempted to tame the fierce rapids and frequent waterfalls of the Potomac River in Virginia. Unfortunately, the company underestimated its ferocity and the river “[fought] against his plans for it almost every inch of the way” (72). Washington searched for day-to-day management to aid in designing the canal, eventually settling on James Rumsey, an innkeeper with little engineering knowledge. At this point, problems began to arise. Laborers were unprepared for the icy streams up to their thighs and started drinking heavily. Due to the small labor base interested in joining the chaos of a few drunk men, Washington “had no choice but to buy black slaves and to take over the indentures of Irish immigrants to add to his canal force” (74). The canal did become a functioning waterway, yet the task was not completed until after Washington’s death. Just years later, the Patowmack Company declared bankruptcy and the vision of massive amounts of goods flowing upstream was shattered. “While corn, whiskey, furs, and timber floated downstream toward the Atlantic without much difficulty, only trifling amounts of light manufactured goods moved upstream toward the mountain” (75).
The Erie Canal, in its slow progression, eventually became the surviving dominating force of the 19th century. This state-financed project luckily found the more geographically profitable section of land in New York from Lake Erie. Constant opposition pointed out the impossibility of the daunting task and the drain on funds that a young nation could not afford, especially when the War of 1812 exhausted some of the surplus. “Disbelief was real, not a blind for political discord: many people were simply unable to visualize how such a novel, gigantic, and hugely expansive project could ever fulfill those glowing promises” (181). Believers such as Joshua Forman stood their ground, indicating that “the state of New-York would never rest until the canal was accomplished” (125). Once construction began, “all the years of debate, doubt, and division seemed to melt away (180).” The pieces came into place for the Erie Canal. Laborers were free men, many contributing relevant technological growth to aid in the digging process. The final cost of the canal reflected the original estimate of approximately $6 million and the task was completed on schedule without any severe mistakes. Populations and economies boomed around the canal, with property values “tripling” in major areas as “the area’s rich production of wheat, barley oats, and corn found an artery of transportation to feed the east” (351).
The state of New York succeeded in achieving the dream of many Americans, opening up commerce to the world and bringing New York City the traffic that would lead to its great expansion. The Erie Canal is an outstanding example of a successful public undertaking that lead to the growth and prosperity of an entire nation.

Inspiration from a Canal

Even more so than Shorto's book, Wedding of the Waters broadened my perspective in ways which seem redundant in retrospect. Simply put, Bernstein's book was so far from anything I would have ever read and the subject matter (compared to Island at the Center of the World, Bernstein's book is much drier and economically-focused), I was a little unsure how to react to the information. I kept feeling some sense of pity, however, for the short-lived glory of the Erie Canal. The work was completed in 1825; Wilbur Wright would make his first flight at Kitty Hawk in 1903, a mere 78 years after the Canal's opening. Likewise, trans-continental railroads would cross America for the remainder of the 19th century, though Bernstein states that "the Erie Canal inspired the route the very first steam railroad in the United States" (344). I realize that my main reaction was concerned with the transport of people, not goods - I had to laugh at the Van Buren quotation on 197, where he swears, "The Almighty certainly never intended that people should travel at such breakneck speed." Since then, of course, we've sent human beings at mind-melting speeds to outer space.
Ironically, Wedding of the Waters served as a catalyst for my main concerns, which appear hardly relevant to the Erie Canal, though I think they are valid: when did wanderlust become a legitimate psychological phenomenon if transportation was so slow and difficult (Wikipedia states the word entered English dictionaries as recently as 1902), when did America begin using asphalt and pavement to form roads, if the Interstate Highway System is only a development of the past 75 years how did people get around before? When did water transportation become so clearly divided between the leisurely (cruises, tours, sailing, our trip on Wednesday) and the industrial (barges, fishing boats, etc.) - no one takes a boat across the ocean anymore.
Likewise, it seems The Erie Canal's greatest achievement was not in and of itself, but rather as a symbol and ideal for other seemingly-insane projects, be they transportation/water-related or not. This is not to dismiss the hard efforts of those who planned and created The Erie Canal; but rather a deepending of the Canal's importance, since it affected much more beyond the scope of the Hudson River.

Cities Created by the Canal

Peter Bernstein’s Wedding of the Waters gives a detailed account of the unprecedented engineering marvel that is the Erie Canal. Once constructed, the Canal effected virtually every aspect of American life. One of the most fascinating, though not surprising, results of the economic opportunities presented by the canal was the rapid expansion of numerous towns across central New York. Rochester provides an interesting example of one such town created by the Canal.
Bernstein mentions Rochester in two very separate contexts. First, he comments on the incredible aqueduct that crossed the Genessee River. This incredible crossing was more then 3 city blocks long and strong enough to support several tons of water; it was the largest single structure along the entire canal. The construction of the canal through Rochester illustrates the scale of this project. But there is more to Rochester then merely the impressive engineering of the canal. As a result of the canal, Rochester underwent an economic boom that caused the expansion and industrialization of massive proportions.
In 1809 Rochester was virtually unheard of and largely unimportant in the context of American history. Bernstein cites a traveler who described Rochester as, "a Godforsaken place inhabited by muskrats, visited only by straggling trappers, through which neither man nor beast could gallop without fear of starvation or ague"(272). Just 27 years after the canal’s completion, Rochester’s population had ballooned to 36,000 and had become famous for its mills and factories. Rochester had become such an industrial center that into the late 20th century it was considered a major producer of American textiles and helped transform the men’s clothing industry (360). Without the Erie canal it is likely that Rochester, and many other towns in central New York that turned into industrial centers, would never have become more then a small village in the middle of wilderness.
The implications of this expansion reached many aspects of American life. Paul E. Johnson wrote a book called A Shop Keepers Millennium that places Rochester at the center of a religious revival across America in the early 19th century. Many historians agree that roots of 19th century militant American Protestantism can be found in the rapidly expanding industrial towns of Central New York. Militant Protestantism arose in these towns because rapid industrialization put lots of money into the hands of ambitious young men and thus created an environment that promoted heavy drinking, sexual promiscuity and gambling. Religious individuals that came in contact with these areas developed methods for Christianizing immoral individuals. These methods directly informed the abolitionist and temperance movements that swept across the norther states before the civil war. Thus the Erie Canal was a factor not only in the economics of 19th century America, but also in the most important moral debates of the era.

Photos from Wednesday's trip

I set up a flickr account for the photos I took on Wednesday. They're linked above, but in case that doesn't work: http://www.flickr.com/photos/choicesnaps/

Hope you enjoy them.