The
Cache River wetlands in extreme Southern Illinois are amazing
to see - even after having large areas drained a century ago.
This was done by reversing the flow of Post creek that once went
into the Cache, enriching it and helping keep it wet. Instead,
Post Creek became a disastrously eroded drainage ditch that drained
the swamps into the Ohio River. Even after being badly exploited
by the timber industry in the early 1900s, and after being devastated
by row crop and livestock farming along it in the past several
decades, what’s left is a strikingly beautiful and unique
environment.
In
this wetland, particularly in the National Natural Landmark “Buttonland
Swamp,” are some of the oldest trees in the U.S. This wetland,
which is located in the “lower Cache,” escaped the
drainage district and the loggers and contains cypress trees that
are up to a 1,000 years old, and have hundreds of “knees,”
some of which are taller than a person. Even the National Geographic,
in a 1992 story several years ago, referred to the Cache wetlands
as “internationally significant.” It now is primarily
owned by either Illinois, (The Illinois Dept. Of Natural Resources)
the federal government, (The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service) or
the Nature Conservancy, although there are still key private inholdings.
These three agencies refer to themselves as “The Partnership.”
The decades long process of recognizing the significance of the
swamp, and taking steps to both protect and acquire the swamp
has been touted as one of great environmental successes in the
nation.
But
looks can be deceiving. In spite of the all of the publicity about
the area in the last decade, the ecosystem is in trouble. The
wetlands and river are filling up with silt and becoming highly
vegetated, because there’s still too much disturbance and
pollution in the watershed. Too many consecutive years of unnaturally
high water levels, artificially sustained by what was supposed
to be a “temporary” impoundment on private property
(but supported by the partnership) has killed most of the natural
hardwood component of the swamp, leaving it a brush and duckweed
filled, almost entirely cypress/tupelo wetland forest, devoid
of the natural wetland hardwoods that once lived in the shallow
ridges in the swamp. The small strip of swamp that still survives
is having a hard time surrounded by agriculture, highways, and
residential development.
Nevertheless,
it is a wonderous thing to behold in a canoe or even standing
on the shore. In fact, it is so remarkable, thinks the Illinois
Dept. Of Natural Resources, that they can build some kind of tourist
attraction out of the Cache wetlands. In fact, they believe it
so strongly that they have invested millions of dollars in a visitor’s
center and museum (The “Henry Barkhausen Wetlands Center”)
which was built on the edge of the wetlands just outside of Karnak,
Illinois, a rural community off the beaten path in far Southeastern
Illinois. This visitor’s center is the centerpiece of this
story, or at least the impetus for it. It is a story of personal
and agency jealousy and retribution, injustice and stupidity.
It is a story of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
The
Corzines
A.E.
Corzine is passionate and knowledgeable about the Buttonland Swamp.
Probably more than anyone else alive. It isn’t surprising
when you realize that his backyard is literally the swamp, and
that it has been for most of his life. He is a true man of the
swamp. He seems equally at home in his boat, walking across some
cypress knees, wading around, or any other number of things that
you might have do in a swamp. He also seems at home paging through
his files of documents and photos, which he and the Citizen’s
Committee have collected for decades, (the most complete files
on the Cache, he says). He’s ready, willing and able to
do whatever it takes to protect this swamp that he grew up with.
I don’t know exactly how old A.E is, but he’s somewhere
in his 70s? You would never guess it. He is energetic, and in
very good shape. Usually if you go to his house, he’s working.
If not on his land, then on the Cache issue.
A.E.’s
wife, Janis, is every bit as passionate and knowledgeable about
the Cache issues. She is A.E’s ears and top advisor. They
both love the swamp and if not for them, it is likely that “The
Partnership” probably wouldn’t exist, and almost all
of the Cache wetlands would have been drained and tiled for corn
and soybeans. In fact, A.E.’s role in this is discussed
in the National Geographic story. Everyone around here knows that
A.E. and Janis had more to do with protecting the last of the
Cache wetlands than anyone.
They
are the main people that did it. Not the only ones, but the main
ones. They started speaking up about the swamp long before any
agencies were involved, and it was only after their relentless
advocacy that they were able to get the attention of the agencies
about the significance of this wetland. It’s no secret.
Protecting
What’s Left
As
A.E. tells it, a particular large agricultural developer from
the Bootheel of Missouri, who had experience in converting wetlands
into farmland, had started acquiring land along and into what
was left of the Cache wetlands, in the 1960 - 70s. The land would
be logged and drained (or at least drainage was attempted), with
the goal of farming it. It’s not easy to farm a swamp. It
takes a heavy hand.
This
happened on hundreds of acres. This was in addition to the hundreds
of acres of land that had already been cleared and was being farmed
along the river. But these new acquisitions went deep into the
few percent of the Cache Wetlands that were still left. The local
Drainage District was all for this. To them the swamp was a pesky
nuisance and their job was to get rid of it. Taking on a Drainage
District was not something easily done, especially in a place
like Southern Illinois. Who wants a swamp when you can have a
farm field?
The
way I understand it, impacts on the Buttonland Swamp from this
new drainage effort combined with some very drought summers in
the late 1970s caused the swamp and almost the entire river to
nearly dry up. This alarmed some local residents, including the
Corzine’s, who have a great series of photos of the dried
up swamp. Somewhere about this time, the Corzine’s and a
few other local allies of the Corzine’s hooked up with some
high profile governmental and environmental officials to form
a local organization called “Citizen’s Committee to
Save the Cache,” with the goal of trying to save what was
left of the entire Cache River wetlands system, including the
Buttonland Swamp, which was one of the gems of the system.
One
of the high-profile governmental officials was Henry Barkhausen,
former Director of the Illinois Dept. Of Natural Resources, who
joined the Citizen’s Committee in 1982. From what I have
heard, the Corzines had solicited Barkhausen’s participation
in the Citizen’s Committee in an effort to get the state
interested in protecting the swamp. To have a former Director
of the Dept. Of Natural Resources as a member gave the Citizen’s
Committee statewide credibility and clout. This was necessary
to move the agenda of the organization, which was to try and get
as much of the Cache Wetlands into some kind of public ownership
as soon as possible. The price for having such a high profile
and politically connected board was that it was insisted by some
on the board, and agreed to by the Citizen’s Committee,
that they would never publicly criticize any of the agency’s
involved for any reason. With that promise in place, the Citizen’s
Committee became one of the partnership, having it’s name
and logo appearing alongside all the agencies whenever there was
something public about the Cache Wetlands protection projects.
With a board of the high profile folks in combination with the
Corzines and the Nature Conservancy, the Citizen’s Committee
grew in importance and stature.
This
high-powered partnership was needed, especially because The Citizen’s
Committee applied to the U.S. Corps of Engineers for a permit
to build a dam across the Cache river to hold back water in the
Buttonland swamp. This was portrayed as an emergency, stop-gap
measure to make sure the swamp didn’t dry up, but it was
a very bold move for the time and place. The permit was granted,
and the dam was built on the land of a close associate and friend
of the Corzine’s, Dave Diehl. The dam became known as the
“Diehl dam,” and it did raise the water level in the
swamp. However, the Drainage District was breathing down the back
of The Partnership, trying to get the dam removed.
Fortunately
for the movement to protect the Cache, awareness about wetland
preservation was peaking in our country. Way too many swamps had
been drained in the past - almost all of them in fact. This made
it “hip” for a state agency, especially from a highly
developed state like Illinois, to be involved in this fight. The
Illinois agency could again be at the national forefront of natural
area protection, after being the first state in the U.S. to undertake
a Natural Areas Inventory. The Nature Conservancy added money
and prestige. History and legacies were being made. In fact, the
connections were so close between the Citizen’s Committee
and Illinois, that when it became apparent that there was going
to have to be litigation in state court to keep the Drainage District
from taking down the dam, the Citizen’s Committee leased
the Diehl dam to the State of Illinois for something like one
dollar so that Illinois could become a party in the case, and
the State Attorney General could argue it. The state was a much
more formidable foe to the Drainage District in state court than
either the Citizen’s Committee or the Nature Conservancy
would have been.
The
litigation ended up in a settlement, and the Diehl dam stayed.
Each party, including the Citizen’s Committee, was assigned
certain responsibilities. One of those responsibilities was that
the Citizen’s Committee would keep the water level at the
dam at a certain “magic number.” (328.4 feet above
sea level, to be exact.)
Interestingly
enough, this was an arbitrary number that was picked out of the
air by the Citizen’s Committee, with the knowledge that
this level was a little higher than the average mean water level
in the swamp, but would insure that the swamp would not dry out
until more land could be acquired and the bigger environmental
problems addressed that might restore some of the natural cycles
back to the system. With water in the system, a high profile court
case favorably settled, and lots of great publicity, the state
started to acquire land in earnest. Following that, The Partnership
successfully pushed for the establishment of the Cypress Creek
national wildlife refuge, which started acquiring land lower in
the watershed from where the state was acquiring. By the early
1990s, tens of thousands of acres were bought by public land agencies.
Things
looked promising for the future of the Cache. The Corzine’s
and the Citizen’s Committee, their promise to never criticize
the Partnership in hand, many key goals having been reached, rested
on their laurels and victories, the result of over two decades
of work.
Problems
Return
As
A.E. says now, “they went to sleep” for 10 years,
trusting The Partnership. A couple things started to wake them
up. One was the decision by the state to spend millions of dollars
on the visitor’s center. From the Corzine’s point
of view, not that a visitor’s center wasn’t a good
idea, it was just that there was still a lot of restoration work
needed to be done for which funds weren’t available. They
thought these should be finished before investing in a visitor’s
center. This wasn’t that controversial however, and even
when the state decided to name it after Barkhausen, which wasn’t
really fair but which is typically bureaucratic, The Citizen’s
Committee went along.
But
according to folks I have talked to, there was a growing problem
with hunters and illegal Off Road Vehicle riders on the national
wildlife refuge impacting local residents. The Corzine’s
wrote up a questionnaire and sent it around the neighborhood asking
for neighborhood input on some of these questions. I’ve
seen the records from the survey, and a substantial majority of
those that filled them out that said they had problems with the
public land management in the area, especially in regard to hunters
and ORV users. Corzine’s brought this to the Citizen’s
Committee, and ran into the brick wall of the agreement not to
publicly criticize The Partnership. So A.E. brought a proposal
to the board to do away with the “promise” not to
publicly criticize the partnership, so that the Citizen’s
Committee could go public with their concerns about the Fish and
Wildlife Service’s management. It passed.
Barkhausen
didn’t like this. This was the beginning of the end of his
association with the Citizen’s Committee. This began the
unravelling of the established Citizen’s Committee Board.
Nevertheless,
the Corzines managed to win votes of the board and retained control
of the Citizen’s Committee even as many of the long time
members quit and publicly criticized Corzine and the Citizen’s
Committee.
The
Corzines didn’t give up, though. The Cache was their back
yard, and they couldn’t quit. As he told me, once he woke
up from his decade of sleep, he started looking around at what
kind of management The Partnership had been doing for the last
10 years, and he didn’t like some of what he saw. What troubled
him more than anything was the mass die-off of the hardwood trees,
such as wetland oaks species, that occurred on some of the very
shallow or even dry ridges in the swamp. A.E. started documenting
this, and was trying to get The Partnership to address it. They
refused. They said that the death of the trees was from high water
events on the Ohio and Mississippi, particularly the great flood
of 1993 on the Mississippi. Personally, I am doubtful of that
explanation as being the sole reason for the die-off, because
this swamp had been experiencing these severe floods on a fairly
frequent basis forever, and those trees were still there. This
was a mass die-off that had to be caused by more than one or two
floods. I think the Corzines were right that the sustained, unnatural
high water levels in Buttonland swamp from the Citizen’s
Committee’s dam was a primary cause. A.E. wanted back in
court to lower the water level’s “magic number,”
but The Partnership wasn’t listening. They wanted 328.4,
period.
A.E
would say, “if they want more water, they need to go down,
not up,” referring to the need to dredge the silt laden,
historically deeper waters in the Cache’s old, meandering
channel. He was worried about the still viable strip of hardwoods
which still lined the swamp but which were starting to show signs
of stress from the sustained high water.
Right
around that same time frame, a main levee which helped to protect
thousands of acres of farmland from flood waters backing up from
the Ohio up Post Creek failed. The hydrology, ecology, and politics
of all of this are way too complex to write up in a general story,
but this became an issue, also. The levee itself was under the
authority of the Drainage District (yes the same one), and Illinois
and The Partnership refused to get involved in any kind of repair
until the Drainage District gave up authority over the levee to
Illinois. (It still isn’t repaired) The Corzines ironically
now urged the Drainage District not to give up authority so as
to keep some local leverage over Illinois. Most of this energy
was aimed toward trying to get The Partnership to implement the
deep water restoration dredging operation. The Partnership said
they wanted to do it but didn’t have the money.
As
all this was occurring, A.E. wrote a series of columns in some
local newspapers, taking The Partnership to task for their failure
to address these problems. Needless to say, that didn’t
go over too good with The Partnership. Afterall, everyone around
here knows that the Corzines are primarily responsible for the
Cache getting “protected” in the first place, and
Southern Illinoisans aren’t inclined to be very trusting
of government agencies anyway. The Partnership worried, rightly
so, that complete loss of support from the neighborhood (which
was much more likely without the support of the Corzines) could
dash away their hopes of future restoration activities, which
could require more land acquisition, and even cooperation from
neighboring land owners, to implement. This all was like a bad
nightmare for the Partnership, which up to this point, primarily
because of the “no public criticism” agreement with
the Citizen’s Committee, had never had to deal with much
public criticism, at least from the environmental side. (Not like
the Forest Service, which was constantly blasted by all sides.)
But
instead of carefully considering the concerns of the Corzines
and what was left of the Citizen’s Committee, The Partnership
tried a very badly orchestrated “Plan B.” Plan B was
to try to either ignore or discredit the Corzines in the public
forum. I, myself experienced this on more than one occasion, having
been told that A.E. was losing it, had done unscrupulous things
to keep control of the Citizen’s Committee, and other various
personal attacks. I knew something was going on, but I wasn’t
involved enough to know the details. By the time all this was
happening, I had been acquainted with A.E. for many years, but
didn’t know him that well and hadn’t been intimately
involved in Cache issues, although I did keep up with them and
loved and used the area. I, like most Southern Illinoisans, admired
A.E. and thought he was an environmental hero for our area. I
had kept up with the articles in the local papers, and had some
conversations with him about particular issues on the Cache. (such
as the fact that the IDN was allowing cattle grazing on state
land near the swamp) I always had found him to be straightforward,
honest, and the most knowledgeable person I knew when it came
to the Cache River system. Also, I had never met anyone who was
more dedicated to saving that swamp
Then
came the real kicker. About 3 years ago, in the midst of this
controversy, the Citizen’s Committee decided to take a bold
step of what can only be called civil disobedience, and they lowered
the dam about 2 feet on their own, without telling anyone, violating
the court settlement, outraging The Partnership, and leaving only
inches of water in most of the swamp. This is when the campaign
to destroy the Corzines credibility began in earnest. I just couldn’t
figure out what was going on, so I decided to try and find out.
Retaliation
Against the Corzines Begins
Now
the whispering campaign against the Corzines went into high gear.
I was hearing all kinds of terrible things about him. I wanted
to hear his side of the story. I called up A.E. and we talked
and he invited me over. I also visited with or talked to numerous
other people who were involved in the Cache issue. This is how
I learned all of what I am writing. I also was invited to attend
several meetings and field trips with either A.E, The Partnership,
or other interested parties. So now we get down to the real meat
of this issue.
At
one of the meetings I had with a person who had been involved
in the Cache River issue for years, I was given an, at the time,
recently written, lengthy, poison-pen memo about A.E., written
by no other than Mr. Barkhausen himself, which apparently had
been distributed to key people in The Partnership’s circle.
I guess I was given the memo because the person that gave it to
me thought that it would persuade me to join them in condemning
the Corzines.
Instead,
I found the memo to be unethical, disgusting, and unbelievable.
I had never met Barkhausen, but he had always seemed to maintain
a positive public image through his work on the Cache. I was shocked
at this memo. For example, Barkhausen, who now was retired to
Northern Illinois and rarely came to the Cache, accused A.E. of
being jealous of Barkhausen because of the visitor’s center
being named after him instead of A.E. This is about as low as
a personal attack can get, and it is unbecoming of someone in
Barkhausen’s position. This was but one of many harsh, personal
attacks on A.E. The memo, circulated to innumerable people, was
meant to crush the Corzines’ credibility and shut them up.
What history will show is that, in fact, it was Barkhausen’s
credibility and reputation that has been forever damaged by this
memo, and naming the center after him will not change this history.
Of
course, it turned out that this was all being done behind A.E.’s
back, and he had no idea that this memo was circulating. He was
given no chance to defend himself against these serious charges.
However,
bad news travels fast, and as will usually happen in such a situation,
the memo finally did make his way to the Corzines. A.E. sat down
and wrote a written response to it point by point, and widely
circulated his response. It appeared that The Partnership and
the Citizen’s Committee were headed toward a total meltdown
in relationship. The Partnership wasn’t getting anything
done while the silt buildup and the hardwood die-off in the swamp
continued.
Other
local environmental groups tried to intervene. A request was made
to have a public forum with the Partnership and the Corzines participating
so that these issues could be aired publicly. Corzines agreed,
but The Partnership refused. And while The Partnership was condemning
the lowering of the dam, they took no legal action to force the
Citizen’s Committee to raise it back to the height in the
agreement, probably for fear that a court hearing would show how
the state was not keeping up its end of the agreement either.
Once
on a field trip, I asked The Partnership representatives giving
the tour, (who were bitching about the lowering of the dam), while
we stood on the Perks bridge over the Cache at the edge of the
Buttonland swamp, “why, if what the Citizen’s Committee
did was so horrible and was threatening the whole ecosystem, they
didn’t take whatever action was necessary to force the dam
to be restored to the legal height? Didn’t they have an
obligation as protectors of the resource?” They shrugged
and said that they were afraid how a lawsuit against the Corzines
would look to the neighborhood. This is a perfect example of how
The Partnership was both paralyzed and hypocritical. It was tough
times on the Cache.
But,
as the old saying goes, time does have a way to heal wounds. The
Corzines continued their advocacy. The Partnership went on. The
public criticism of each other lowered, and as the last few years
have passed, there has been increased contact between the Citizen’s
Committee and The Partnership. Some of this was even initiated
by the Partnership, who needs A.E.’s knowledge and support
to try and get restoration work back on track. The relationship
improved somewhat. The Citizen’s Committee put the dam back
up to the “magic number” of 328.4, to help facilitate
the dredging operation, which still hasn’t been started.
The Corzines also had been supporting The Partnership in trying
to get control over the blown out levee from the Drainage District.
Unfortunately,
in return for this, The Partnership has now just stabbed the Corzines
in the back in a very demeaning, degrading, insulting, and unnecessary
way. Again, this threatens the future of getting needed work done
on the Cache. We get back to the visitor’s center. After
sitting there, finished but unstaffed for years, Illinois finally
released funds to staff the center and open it to the public.
So, this coming Friday, April 29, 2005, The Partnership is sponsoring
a big grand opening/ribbon cutting. Guess who isn’t invited
and isn’t even mentioned in the literature? You guessed
it - the Corzine’s and the Citizen’s Committee. Instead,
the IDN is inviting groups to participate in the dedication ceremony
that have not historically been on the front line of the Cache
preservation issue, and certainly have not been nearly as involved
and haven’t contributed to the existence of this center
nearly to the extent of the Corzines and the Citizen’s Committee.
There is no doubt that leaving out the Corzines and Citizen’s
Committee is a purposeful snub and rebuke of the Corzine’s
contribution.
This
unjustified and unfortunate snub has opened up old wounds. Recently
A.E. sent a letter to the current director of the Illinois Dept.
Of Natural Resources, Joel Brunsvold, pointing out that while
Barkhausen was Director of IDN, “both the State of Illinois
and the Federal Government financially contributed to the...Drainage
District...(which) ...assisted in destroying (parts of the Cache)...much
of which has been lost never to be reclaimed.” I won’t
go into what else is in the letter, but no doubt it signifies
a major step backward in the relationship between the Corzines,
The Citizen’s Committee, and The Partnership.
I’ll
be personally disappointed if the participating environmental
organizations don’t do something to recognize the Corzine’s
work, or even to not participate unless the whole story is told.
The Corzines deserve to have a place of honor in this. This visitor’s
center would more than likely never have been built if it wasn’t
for their work and dedication. It was their courage, as Southern
Illinois locals, to take on a very “wise-use” neighborhood
at a time when it wasn’t hip or well known to protect wetlands.
I’m very disgusted by the Illinois Dept. Of Natural Resources,
who is rewarding vengeful pettiness and punishing real accomplishment
and contribution - a lifetime’s worth.
To
me, the so-called “Barkhausen Wetland’s Center”
is a symbol of the worst in the Illinois government, and I’ll
never respect it, and never believe that Barkhausen deserves the
honor. In fact, in my mind, it will always be the Corzine Center
for Dedication to Wetland Protection, and anyone who asks me,
that’s what I’ll tell them.
Mark
Donham lives in Brookport, Illinois. He can be reached
at: markkris@earthlink.net