Char Miller

On September 9, 1921, a tropical depression stalled just north of San Antonio and within hours overwhelmed its winding network of creeks and rivers. Floodwaters ripped through the city’s Latino West Side neighborhoods, killing more than eighty people. Meanwhile a wall of water crashed into the central business district on the city’s North Side, wreaking considerable damage. The city’s response to this disaster shaped its environmental policies for the next fifty years, carving new channels of power. Decisions about which communities would be rehabilitated and how thoroughly were made in the political arena, where the Anglo elite largely ignored the interlocking problems on the impoverished West Side that flowed from poor drainage, bad housing, and inadequate sanitation. Instead the elite pushed for the $1.6 million construction of the Olmos Dam, whose creation depended on a skewed distribution of public benefits in one of America’s poorest big cities. The discriminatory consequences, channeled along ethnic and class lines, continually resurfaced until the mid-1970s, when Communities Organized for Public Services, a West Side grassroots organization, launched a successful protest that brought much-needed flood control to often inundated neighborhoods. This upheaval, along with COPS’s emergence as a power broker, disrupted Anglo domination of the political landscape to more accurately reflect the city’s diverse population. West Side Rising is the first book focused squarely on San Antonio’s enduring relationship to floods, which have had severe consequences for its communities of color in particular. Examining environmental, social, and political histories, Char Miller demonstrates that disasters can expose systems of racism, injustice, and erasure and, over time, can impel activists to dismantle these inequities. He draws clear lines between the environmental injustices embedded in San Antonio’s long history and the emergence of grassroots organizations that combated the devastating impact floods could have on the West Side.

How San Antonio's 1921 Flood Devastated a City and Sparked a Latino Environmental Justice Movement

West Side Rising

Jeff Crane

Grassroots Organizing, Environmental Justice, and Political Change

Nature of Hope

"American Forests is an interdisciplinary collection of essays that explore the impact of forestry on natural and human landscapes since the mid-nineteenth century. It has two main goals: to present some of the most compelling arguments that have guided our understanding of the complex and evolving relationship between trees and people in the United States, and to point out those aspects of this tangled interaction that we have yet fully to understand or to articulate."--Preface, ix.

Nature, Culture, and Politics

American Forests

A lively primer on the region's most precious and scarce resource, drawn from the pages of the newspaper that sets the standard for coverage of environmental issues in the West.

A High Country News Reader

Water in the West

Water in the 21st-Century West offers a timely look at the central issue facing the American West—the region’s diminishing water supply. It collects the best reporting on the subject, drawn from the pages of High Country News, the newspaper that sets the standard for coverage of environmental issues in the West. This book provides compelling perspectives on the water issues and controversies that roil the region, from the Pacific Northwest to the Great Plains, from the interior mountains to the southwestern deserts. The book’s contributors—among them activists, scholars, scientists, and many of the nation’s finest environmental journalists—offer hardhitting analyses of regional dilemmas, including the unpredictable impact of climate change; intense debates over decommissioning dams; emerging Native American water power; toxic threats to groundwater quality; and the escalating urban demands for water in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Denver, Salt Lake City, and the Bay Area. Water in the 21st-Century West captures the range and nature of the arguments that have defined water politics in the region over the past decade. The collection probes the issues and explores creative attempts to find solutions, bringing a focus and clarity to the most contentious environmental issue the West faces. Water in the 21st-Century West will be an essential primer in assessing and mapping the West’s water future.

Water in the 21st-century West

On the Edge grew out of a lifetime spent living and traveling across the American Southwest, from San Antonio to Los Angeles. Char Miller examines this borderland region through a native's eyes and contemplates its considerable conflicts. Internal to the various US states and Mexico's northern tier, there are struggles over water, debates over undocumented immigrants, the criminalizing of the border, and the region's evolution into a no-man's land. The book investigates how we live on this contested land --how we make our place in its oft-arid terrain; an ecosystem that burns easily and floods often and defies our efforts to nestle in its foothills, canyons, and washes. Exploring the challenges in the Southwest of learning how to live within this complex natural system while grasping its historical and environmental frameworks. Understanding these framing devices is critical to reaching the political accommodations necessary to build a more generous society, a more habitable landscape, and a more just community, whatever our documented status or species.

Water, Immigration, and Politics in the Southwest

On the Edge

Char Miller's collection of essays provides an insightful survey of San Antonio and South Texas. The essays are grouped into six thematic sections: an overview; natural and environmental history; water issues; urban development; politics; and the city's future. Miller describes the First Friday Art Walks in Southtown, where the promenade reenacts the pedestrian traffic envisioned by the San Antonio founders when they planned the city around a central square and cathedral. He recreates the history behind the Alamo Quarry, when the upscale shopping center was a cement factory and self-contained community. Ranging further afield, he recounts how the Aplomado Falcon made a come-back in the Rio Grande Valley, and how the river in the same valley has fared in water wars between the United States and Mexico. In the four essays devoted to water in San Antonio, Miller subtly and successfully portrays how water has shaped the region's demographic and political realities.

Land and Life in South Texas

Deep in the Heart of San Antonio

V. Alaric Sample

R. Patrick Bixler

Forest Conservation in the Anthropocene provides thought-provoking insight into the ongoing environmental crises that climate change is generating and raises critical questions about how public and private land managers in North America will adapt to the climatological disruptions that are already transforming the ecological structures of these forests. In this pathbreaking anthology, a team of leading environmental researchers probes the central dilemmas that ecologists, forest land managers, state and federal agencies, and grassroots organizations are confronting—and will continue to confront—in the coming century. Each chapter examines strategies that are currently being tested across the country as scientists, citizen-scientists, policy makers, academics, and activists work to grasp their options and opportunities for a future that will be shaped by ongoing environmental upheaval. Successful adaptation to the challenges of climate change requires a transdisciplinary perspective. Forest Conservation in the Anthropocene provides a compelling set of arguments and case studies that underscores the need for innovative policies and energetic actions. Contributors: Craig D. Allen, Mark Anderson, Susan Beecher, R. Travis Belote, Timothy J. Brown, Anne A. Carlson, Tim Caro, Grace K. Charles, Dave Cleaves, Dena J. Clink, Ayesha Dinshaw, R. Kasten Dumroese, Jonas Epstein, Alexander M. Evans, Todd Gartner, Jessica E. Halofsky, Nels Johnson, Linda A. Joyce, Laura Falk McCarthy, Heather McGray, Constance I. Millar, James Mulligan, Chadwick Dearing, David L. Peterson, Will Price, Janine M. Rice, Jason Riggio, Tania Schoennagel, Mark L. Shaffer, Curt Stager, Scott L. Stephens, Thomas W. Swetnam, Gary M. Tabor, Christopher Topik, Monica G. Turner, Thomas T. Veblen, Alexandra M. Weill, Anthony L. Westerling, Carolyn Whitesell, Mary I. Williams

Science, Policy, and Practice

Forest Conservation in the Anthropocene

In Not So Golden State, leading environmental historian Char Miller looks below the surface of California's ecological history to expose some of its less glittering conundrums. In this necessary work, Miller asks tough questions as we stand at the edge of a human-induced natural disaster in the region and beyond. He details policy steps and missteps in public land management and examines the impact of recreation on national forests, parks, and refuges, assessing efforts to restore wild land habitat, riparian ecosystems, and endangered species. Why, during a devastating five-year drought, is the Central Valley’s agribusiness still irrigating its fields as if it were business as usual? What’s unusual, Miller reveals, is that northern counties rich in groundwater sell it off to make millions while draining their aquifers toward eventual mud. Why, when contemporary debate over oil and gas drilling questions reasonable practices, are extractive industries targeting Chaco Canyon National Historic Park and its ancient sites, which are of inestimable value to Native Americans? How do we begin to understand “local,” a concept of hope for modern environmentalism? After all, Miller says, what we define as local determines how we might act in its defense. To inhabit a place requires placed-based analyses, whatever the geographic scope—examinations rooted in a precise, physical reality. To make a conscientious life in a suburb, floodplain, fire zone, or coastline requires a heightened awareness of these landscapes’ past so that we can develop an intensified responsibility for their present condition and future prospects. Building a more robust sense of justice is the key to creating resilient, habitable, and equitable communities. Miller turns to Aldo Leopold’s insight that “all history consists of successive excursions from a single starting point,” a location humans return to "again and again to organize another search for a durable scale of values.” This quest, a reflection of our ambition to know ourselves in relation to time and space, to organize our energy and structure our insights, is as inevitable as it is unending. Turning his focus to the tensions along the California coastline, Miller ponders the activities of whale watching and gazing at sea otters, thinking about the implications of the human desire to protect endangered flora and fauna, which makes the shoreline a fraught landscape and a source of endless stories about the past and present. In the Los Angeles region these connections are more obvious, given its geography. The San Gabriel Mountains rise sharply above the valleys below, offering some of the steepest relief on the planet. Three major river systems—the Santa Ana, San Gabriel, and Los Angeles—cut through the range’s sheer canyons, carrying an astonishing amount of debris that once crashed into low-lying areas with churning force. Today the rivers are constrained by flood-control dams and channels. Major wildfires, sparked by annual drought, high heat, and fierce Santa Ana winds, move at lightning speed and force thousands to flee. The city’s legendary smog, whose origins lie in car culture, was fueled in part by oil brought to the region's surface in the late nineteenth century. It left Angelenos gasping for breath as climatic conditions turned exhaust into a toxic ozone layer trapped by the mountains that back in the day were hard to see. Clearing the befouled skies took decades. Every bit as complex is the enduring effort to regenerate riparian health and restore wildlife habitat in a concrete-hardened landscape. The emerging tensions are similar to those threading through the U.S. Forest Service’s management of the Angeles National Forest, exacerbated whenever a black bear ambles into a nearby subdivision. How we build ourselves into these spaces depends on the removal of competing users or uses: a historic strawberry patch gives way to a housing development, a memorial forest goes up in smoke, a small creek tells a larger tale of the human impress, and struggles over water—a perennial issue in this dry land—remind us we're not as free of the past as we'd like to think. Neither are we removed from the downwind consequences of our choice to live in fire’s path. The West does not burn every summer; it just seems that way. And not every fire is a smoke signal of distress. Picking through the region’s fiery terrain is as tricky as trying to extinguish a roaring blaze in the August heat. There are lessons to be had by examining how we respond to the annual conflagrations. The Wallow Fire, which in 2011 burned hundreds of thousands of acres in remote Arizona, sparked equal amounts of political grandstanding and hand-wringing about wildfire-fighting strategies. Beyond the headlines and flashy, smoke-filled images lay another reality. The creation of defensible space and the thinning of forests communities—signs of homeowners' and state and federal agencies' proactive intervention—meant few structures burned during the monthlong firestorm. That such good news is rarely reported is part and parcel of another ethical dilemma too rarely acknowledged: the decision to live in fire zones should come coupled with homeowners’ responsibility to do all they can to ensure their homes don't go up in smoke. How they build their homes and landscape its environs are essential steps in defending their space. That obligation comes with another, made clear in the 2013 Yarnell Hill, which took the lives of nineteen firefighters. To make our houses fire-safe is to give firefighters a fighting chance. This reciprocity and the social compact it depends on require us to believe we inhabit common ground with our neighbors, a realization that should build a stronger sense of community. But it's a tough concept to promote in a bewilderingly antisocial political environment, when budgets for fire prevention are slashed as part of larger efforts to defund the nation-state. Or when the very reasons some seek to live in isolated, mountainous environs clash with the larger need to act in concert with their communities. Fires illuminate many things, not least the ties that bind and those that are frayed. Miller develops his argument from a variety of places and perspectives. Most of the pieces ask a series of questions about a particular landscape—Gila National Forest, Death Valley, Zion, Arches, and Rocky Mountain National Parks, and a host of other iconic western scenic spots. Why do we conceive of wilderness as a preserve, separate and inviolate? Who benefits—or does not—from the idea that such landscapes are, or ought to be, untrammeled? Why has this intellectual construction, and the preservationist ethos it depends on, come to dominate contemporary environmentalism? Related queries bubble up after Miller spends time in the newest national park, Pinnacles in central California, or one of the most venerable, the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. What impact has the long history of tourism and recreation had on these public lands? Maintaining trails that weave through the Yosemite Valley is an arduous, incessant task made more difficult by the visitors pouring in to John Muir’s favorite terrain or rushing to rock climb in Minerva Hoyt’s beloved Joshua Tree. Still more daunting is the prospect of sustained ecological restoration and habitat regeneration under current conditions and those that climate change is generating across the West. Once again Aldo Leopold can be a guide. “A member of a biotic team is shown by an ecological interpretation of history,” he once observed, adding that many “historical events, hitherto explained solely in terms of human enterprise, were actually biotic interactions between people and land.” Only when “the concept of land as a community really penetrates our intellectual life” will history, as a subject and methodology, become fully realized. Not So Golden State contributes powerfully toward the realization of this enduring cross-generational endeavor.

Sustainability vs. the California Dream

Not So Golden State

Clay S. Jenkinson

Theodore Roosevelt's scientific curiosity and love of the outdoors proved a defining force throughout his hectic life as a rancher and explorer, police commissioner and governor of New York, vice president and president of the United States. Conservation and natural history were parts of a whole for this driven, charismatic public servant, and Roosevelt approached the natural world with joy and a passionate engagement. Drawing on an array of approaches--biographical, ecological and environmental, literary and political, Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena analyzes this energetic man's manifold encounters with the great outdoors. George Bird Grinnell, Gifford Pinchot, John Muir, and William Hornaday were among the many conservationists with whom Roosevelt corresponded, collaborated, hiked, and governed--and in turn, inspired. Together, Roosevelt and his contemporaries developed a progressive argument for the conservation of natural resources as a way to construct a more democratic nation-state. This legacy also comes with some troubling domestic and global implications, as Roosevelt fused his call for the conservation of resources--natural and human, domestically and internationally--with a deep-seated conviction that some were more fit than others to control the world and define its future.

Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena

Alon Tal

Daniel E. Orenstein

The environmental history of Israel is as intriguing and complex as the nation itself. Situated on a mere 8,630 square miles, bordered by the Mediterranean Sea and Persian Gulf, varying from desert to forest, Israel's natural environment presents innumerable challenges to its growing population. The country's conflicted past and present, diverse religions, and multitude of cultural influences powerfully affect the way Israelis imagine, question, and shape their environment. Zionism, from the late nineteenth onward, has tempered nearly every aspect of human existence. Scarcities of usable land and water coupled with border conflicts and regional hostilities have steeled Israeli's survival instincts. As this volume demonstrates, these powerful dialectics continue to undergird environmental policy and practice in Israel today. Between Ruin and Restoration assembles leading experts in policy, history, and activism to address Israel's continuing environmental transformation from the biblical era to the present and beyond, with a particular focus on the past one hundred and fifty years. The chapters also reflect passionate public debates over meeting the needs of Israel's population and preserving its natural resources. The chapters detail the occupations of the Ottoman Empire and British colonialists in eighteenth and nineteenth century Palestine, as well as Fellaheen and pastoralist Bedouin tribes, and how they shaped much of the terrain that greeted early Zionist settlers. Following the rise of the Zionist movement, the rapid influx of immigrants and ensuing population growth put new demands on water supplies, pollution controls, sanitation, animal populations, rangelands and biodiversity, forestry, marine policy, and desertification. Additional chapters view environmental politics nationally and internationally, the environmental impact of Israel's military, and considerations for present and future sustainability.

An Environmental History of Israel

Between Ruin and Restoration

This visually dynamic historical atlas chronologically covers American environmental history through the use of four-color maps, photos, and diagrams, and in written entries from well known scholars. Organized into seven categories, each chapter covers: agriculture * wildlife and forestry * land use and management * technology and industry * pollution and human heath * human habitats * and ideology and politics. With valuable reference aids--including bibliographies, sources for further research, an extensive index, and newly designed maps--this is an indispensable tool for students and educators alike. For a detailed contents, a generous selection of sample articles, and more, visit the website Atlas of US and Canadian Environmental History website. Also includes 46 color maps.

Char Miller

About

Books

Join the club