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SIGHTLINE
WINTER/SPRING 2002
Vol. 3 No. 1
Cades Cove
What Might Have Been
Trapped in the Cove
Field and Stream
Cove's Changing Landscape
Combating Alien Invaders
Crunching Numbers, Counting
Bugs
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Editor: David Brill; Assistant Editor: Constance Griffith; Writers:
Kris Christen, Lisa Byerley Gary, Elise LeQuire, Dennis McCarthy, and
Becky Nichols. Graphic Designer: Lisa Byerley Gary.
SIGHTLINE is published on behalf of
Great Smoky Mountains National
Park
by the
Energy, Environment and Resources
Center (EERC)
at the
University of Tennessee.
EERC conducts research designed to promote real-world
solutions to problems in the fields of energy, environment, technology,
and economic development.
For additional information, write EERC, 311 Conference
Center Building, The University
of Tennessee, Knoxville, TN 37996-4134, call 865-974-4251,
or visit our Web site at http://eerc.ra.utk.edu.
SIGHTLINE is sponsored by:

and
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What Might Have Been
In the early days of Park Service management,
proponents of development and those in favor of preservation vied for control of
Cades Cove's future.
By Dennis McCarthy
Cades Cove has been a focal point of National Park Service
policy since the birth of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Park
personnel wrestled with how best to manage the Cove in the early 1930s,
and they continue to do so today. The policies and practices that have
shaped Cades Cove have become a part of our national heritage.
During the 1930s, when the National Park Service was
undergoing rapid expansion, two campsthe developers and the
preservationistswarred over national park policy. Arno Cammererthe third
director of the National Park Service, from 1933 to 1940, and the man who
oversaw the establishment of Great Smoky Mountains National Parkwas in a
quandary over what the national parks should be.
Developers wanted the parks to be tourist meccas,
providing an economic boost to the regions they were in. The developers
envisioned luxurious hotels, fine restaurants, swimming pools, tennis
courts, and vast networks of roads for visitors to easily navigate what
Congress had first called national "pleasuring grounds."
Preservationists, on the other hand, saw the parks as sanctuaries for the contemplative sojourner. Roads, and
certainly development, were anathema. Parks should be preserves for
wildlife, plant communities, and spectacular geologic features. And hiking
trails, while okay, should not be too intrusive.
Early on, Cammerer sided with the developers, so when the
ill-named Great Smoky Mountains Conservation Association proposed damming
Abrams Creek to create a three-and-a-half-mile lake for swimming, boating,
and fishing in Cades Cove, Cammerer concurred. Park Superintendent J.R.
Eakin approved too. A lake in Cades Cove would go nicely with the
statuary, carillon bells, luxury lodges, and restaurants that boosters in
and out of the Park Service were proposing. Besides, proponents could
justify a lake as a restoration project since geological evidence
suggested that the Cove had held a lake eons earlier.

John Oliver delivered mail to Cove residents in the early part of
the 20th Century.
On the side of the preservationists, however, were four
formidable advocates: Benton MacKaye, father of the Appalachian Trail;
Bernard Frank, a TVA engineer; Knoxville lawyer Harvey Broome; and Bob
Marshall, a forester for the U.S. Forest Service who gave his name to
one of the West's truly great wilderness areas. These four men came up
with the idea of a wilderness league after a hike to Clingman's Dome in
the fall of 1934. A few months later, with the support of wildlife
biologist Aldo Leopold and a few others, they created the Wilderness
Society.
Preservation Trumps Development
The fledgling society's first great challenge was to
prevent the flooding of Cades Cove and the construction of a skyline drive
along the crest of the new Park. By the end of 1935, the Wilderness
Society's initial campaign was a success; the lake and the highway were
effectively dead, although a small segment of the road, already under
construction from Newfound Gap to Clingmans Dome, would eventually be
finished.
The wilderness advocates won over not only local Park
officials, they won over Arno Cammerer too. By the end of his term as
director of the Park Service, Cammerer proclaimed that henceforth, all
national parks would be true "wilderness preserves."
Still, even though Cades Cove was not to become a
developed recreation center, it did present special problems. The Cove was
definitely not wilderness. It had been farmed extensively by European
descendants for over 100 years and by Native Americans for generations
before that. Much of the beauty of the Cove rested with its rural appeal.
While forests abounded, especially on the surrounding ridges, the valley
floor remained largely open. The Cove's fields and farmsteads exuded a
bucolic charm that Park advocates wanted to preserve.
When the Cove lands had been purchased for inclusion in
the Park, homesteaders were forced to move out. In 1928, 110 families
lived in the Cove. By late-1935, only 21 families were left, and these
were told they would have to leave by the following year. No one was left
to take care of the fields. The forests soon encroached, filling in the
vistas, hiding the homesteads, and converting the Cove into just another
lovely valley. The Park Service realized that if it didn't do something
soon, it would lose the Cove's unique historical heritage for good.
A Historic Idea
Edward Hummel, a Park Service employee who years later
would become superintendent of Great Smoky Mountains National Park,
suggested that Cades Cove be treated as a historical area, just like
George Washington's birthplace and the Civil War sites that the Park
Service had recently acquired. It was a clever solution. While national
parks are generally preserved as unspoiled wilderness, historical areas
are maintained in their historical setting. The idea of maintaining a
historical area within a national park caught on because it allowed the
Park staff to maintain the rural beauty and openness of the Cove.
The Park adopted the idea, Cades Cove was declared a
historical area, and, in 1945, a few families who had once lived in the
Cove were allowed to return and lease the land. Before long, the open
vistas and vast fields in the Cove were restored.
The Park decided to maintain Cades Cove as a 19th-century
farm community. The Cove's 20th-century structures were torn down, and
earlier structures were preserved. An old grist mill, built by John Cable at the end of the
Civil War, was returned to operation. The Park Service established
demonstrations of historical farming practices and other aspects of life
on a 19th-century farmsuch as plowing with horses, grinding sorghum to
make molasses, quilting, making rifles, and operating a moonshine still.
Decline and Restoration
During the 1950s and 1960s, before the environmental
movement took off, the Soil Conservation Service worked with the Park
Service and leaseholders in the Cove to drain wetlands to make the fields
more productive for hay and pasture. Leaseholders began planting tall
fescue, a popular hay crop native to Europe. Before long, the native
grassesbig and little bluestem, Indian grass, and purple topwere all but
displaced by their European kin.
In many respects, tall fescue makes a fine forage grass;
it is drought resistant and highly adaptable to a variety of soil
conditions, and it stays green year around. It is not without problems,
however. Fescue is not a particularly good cover crop for wildlife. Heavy
rains and snows can knock over the grass, especially during winter when
cover is critical to deer, quail, and turkey. And once the grass is on the
ground, it cannot right itself until the next growing season.
By the 1970s, scientists also discovered that some
varieties of tall fescue carry a fungus that reduces weight gain and
lowers milk production in cattle, makes them sensitive to heat, and lowers
the birth rate of both cattle and horses.
Since tall fescue was proving not to be the boon it had
been thought to be, and it certainly was not typical of a 19th-century
farm, Park personnel within the past decade have begun restoring native
grasses in the Cove. In an attempt to return the landscape to something
closer to what earlier settlers experienced, the Park Service has also
begun restoring wetlands that were ditched and drained half a century ago.
Epilogue
Today, the landscape of the Cove is not appreciatively
different from what it was in the mid-1800s. Although it has a few more
trees, perhaps, and the fields still host a fairly uniform cover of 1950s
fescue, given time, the Cove will acquire the feral look of a prairie as
native grasses return. Certainly, far more deer populate the Cove today
than they did in the 19th century, but turkeys are fewer. The roads are
much improved, and snake-rail fences have been replaced with barbed wire.

Even into the 20th Century, Cove
residents were self-sufficient, much as their pioneer ancestors had been.
Homemade molasses, processed through a horse-powered mill, provided
"sweetening."
So while small differences are visible here and there, the
Cove has been successfully preserved as a historical area, just as Edward
Hummel proposed. And, more important, Hummel's idea set a precedent for
parks around the nation.
Preserving Cades Cove was a crucial turning point for
other national policies too. The Wilderness Society, which rose to
national prominence over Cades Cove and the Great Smokies, became the
leading national advocate for wilderness protection. Harvey Broome, the
society's first president and staunchest wilderness supporter, even
attended the signing of the Wilderness Act at the White House in 1964.
We may never know if Cades Cove was on Broome's mind as he
stood beside President Lyndon Johnson in the Rose Garden on that late
summer day nearly four decades ago, but it's a safe bet that it was never
far from his heart.
For more information, contact Bob
Miller, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, 107 Park Headquarters Road,
Gatlinburg, TN 37738, or call 865-436-1207.
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