On October 9, 1983, I was at the old Weir Cook airport in Indianapolis awaiting the arrival of David Brower, the great environmentalist. Brower emerged from the plane, his face aglow with impish triumph. We hustled down the terminal to the airport bar where he imparted the momentous news that his nemesis James G for Gaius Watt, the messianic Secretary of Interior, had just been evicted from his post in the Reagan administration.