John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania Thomas G

Voice For Wild and Scenic Rivers: John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania Thomas G. Smith Nichols College

Long before environmentalism became fashionable, John Phillips Saylor, a Republican congressman from Johnstown, Pennsylvania, gained national acclaim as an advocate of wilderness preservation. During the 1950s and 1960s he served on the House Interior and Insular Affairs Committee and played an instrumental role in the enactment of the Wilderness Bill which preserved approximately nine million acres of remote, pristine land in the American West. By the mid-1960s, protecting long stretches of major American rivers from dam building also had become a major concern of the Pennsylvania lawmaker. He proposed the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Bill which sought to keep untamed more than two dozen rivers, including sizable segments of the Delaware, Susquehanna, and Clarion in Pennsylvania. Eleventh-hour opposition from Pennsylvania's governor and congressional delegation nearly proved calamitous, but a scaled-down version of the bill was enacted in 1968. One might expect a congressman from Johnstown to have an aversion toward dam builders. After all, in 1889, nearly two decades before Saylor's birth, a privately constructed dam north of the city gave way drowning about 2000 people. Another devastating flood occurred in 1936 when dams again collapsed. Saylor's antipathy toward federally-financed hydroelectric dams is also understandable because publicly financed hydropower competed with privately produced Pennsylvania gas and coal. But Saylor was not just against dams; he was for the preservation of wild lands, unharnessed rivers, and national parks.' It is difficult to reconstruct the development of Saylor's preservationist perspective. Probably it was shaped during his formative years in Johnstown. Area coal mines and steel mills blighted the landscape, fouled rivers, and smudged the air. Industrial degradation may have made Saylor more apprecia- tive of primeval lands, sparkling streams, and abundant wildlife. Remarkably, western Pennsylvania produced four nationally renowned environmentalists during the postwar period. Saylor was the preeminent preservationist in congress. Howard Zahniser, who grew up along the upper Allegheny River in Tionesta, served as executive director of the influential Wilderness Society and dedicated his life to the enactment of legislation preserving wilderness areas. Rachel Carson, who triggered the modern environmental movement by exposing the dangers of pesticides in Silent Spring, was born and raised along the lower Allegheny River. And the environmental cult hero Edward Abbey, before moving to Arizona to write literary classics such as DesertSolitaire and Appalachian Widerness, grew up as a Saylor constituent in Indiana County.2 John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 555

Saylor was born in 1908 on a farm outside Johnstown. He attended Mercersburg Academy and Franklin and Marshall College. He seems to have inherited his preservationist values from his parents. He once wrote a constituent that he was for wild rivers long before he entered congress. His mother, a former school teacher, was a thrifty woman who revered nature. His father, an attorney, was an avid hiker, hunter, and angler who instilled a passion for those outdoor activities in his sons. The family joined a Sportsmen's Associa- tion that owned a hunting and fishing camp in Potter County and through- out his life John Saylor took periodic refuge at "Lost Cabin." His father also fostered his love for national parks. Saylor recalled in a speech that his father took him at the age of twelve to Yellowstone National Park and that experience helped to mold him into a life-long champion cf wilderness and the national park system. As a parent himself, Saylor often took his family to national parks for summer vacations. His son and daughter recalled visits to Glacier, Yellowstone, and the Petrified Forest National Parks. At the latter site, Saylor spotted a man pilfering a petrified rock as a souvenir. "Hey, put that back, it's mine," he ordered. "What'ya mean it's yours?" came the reply. Saylor pointed out that the artifact was part of a national preserve that belonged to all citizens and if every visitor took a sample the supply would quickly disappear. The culprit returned the treasure.3 After graduating from college Saylor went on to Dickinson College Law School and joined his father's firm in Johnstown in 1933. When the United States entered World War II he enlisted in the navy and served as a communi- cations officer aboard the USS Missoula, a troopship that participated in the invasions of Iwo Jima and Okinawa. After the war, Saylor returned to his wife, young son, and law practice. In 1949 he won a special election to congress following the death of the Democratic incumbent. Predominantly Republi- can, Pennsylvania's 26th congressional district included Cambria, Armstrong, and Indiana counties. Its constituents were mainly farmers and blue collar families who earned their livelihood from coal mining and steel making. Johnstown, the district's largest city with 60,000 residents, was home to a Bethlehem Steel plant. One-third of the district's 154,000 registered voters belonged to unions.4 Saylor entered congress about the time that the conservation movement was undergoing a transformation initiated by World War II. In the four decades before the war, American conservation had been driven essentially by the impulses of efficiency and esthetics. At the turn of the century, progressives, notably President Theodore Roosevelt and his Chief of Forestry Gifford Pinchot of Pennsylvania, espoused the efficient use of natural resources. That utilitar- ian perspective affirmed that experts in the federal bureaucracy could scien- tifically administer the public domain to minimize waste and plunder by cor- porate raiders. Progressives also gave heed to esthetics. Scenic treasures should 556 Pennsylvania History

be preserved, not for their ecological value, but to serve humankind by pro- viding recreation, regenerating the spirit, and relieving stress. But when utili- tarian and preservationist interests conflicted, as they did with a controversial proposal to invade Yosemite National Park with the Hetch Hetchy Dam in the 191 Os, esthetic values usually gave way. After World War II, conservationists began to question resource policies that seemed to be more concerned with life's riches than the enrichment of life. The use of nuclear weapons dem- onstrated the friability of humankind. Unrestrained scientific advances might endanger the human species. The surges in population and tourism, the economic emergence of the American West, and the press for natural resources to fuel the military-industrial establishment during the Cold War threatened existing national preserves. Conservationists began to reassess the relationship between humans and their planet. Increasingly they were drawn to an ecological concept that emphasized that humans were not lords of the environment realm, but merely partners in the web of life.5 Conservationists also reevaluated the works of John Muir, who had co- founded the Sierra Club and helped to establish Yosemite Park in the 1890s. He championed the intrinsic value of wilderness. Aldo Leopold's Sand County Almanac, which appeared in 1949, carried an ecological message that urged readers to cease viewing nature as a commodity and to practice earth steward- ship. People belonged to nature, not vice versa. Conservationists also became better organized and more assertive in their defense of wilderness values. The Sierra Club, Wilderness Society, National Parks Association, and the National Wildlife Federation, all became influential political protagonists for preservation. Possessing sound environmental instincts, Saylor befriended leading conservationists, joined the Sierra Club and Wilderness Society, and gravitated toward the emerging ecological outlook that stressed wilderness preservation, environmental protection, safeguarding the national parks, and the interconnectedness of the natural world. His views were reinforced by his top administrative assistant, Ann Dunbar, a Johnstown native who was awarded with an honorary lifetime membership in the Wilderness Society. 6 By the time Saylor entered Congress in 1949, his once lanky 6' 4" frame had filled out to 240 pounds. He was on crutches having broken his toe kick- ing a football barefoot, but his husky physique and booming voice made him an imposing and, at times, intimidating figure. "He was a large man, with a large voice, and he liked to use it," recalled one associate. When he became angry, he could grow caustic or explode in a torrent of swearing, but generally he was slow to anger and quick to laugh. His affability, ebullience, honesty, and sense of humor made him popular on both sides of the aisle and with constituents. After serving an abbreviated first term, he was reelected in 1950 and remained in the House until his death in 1973.7 John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 557

Representing a mining area, Saylor was assigned to the House Interior and Insular Affairs Committee. As a young member on a committee made up mainly of veteran, development-oriented westerners, Saylor did not immediately assert himself on conservation issues. But an emerging conservation battle, the proposal to construct a hydroelectric dam at Echo Park in Dinosaur Na- tional Monument on the Colorado-Utah border, soon demanded his attention. The Echo Park controversy, according to its able historian Mark Harvey, "was the first major dash between preservationists and the dam builders in the postwar American West." Saylor first made his mark as an advocate of park protection and wilderness preservation during that fray.8 In the late 1940s the interior department's Bureau of Reclamation had devised an ambitious scheme to provide water storage, irrigation, and hydroelectric power to the upper Colorado River basin states of Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Wyoming. The Colorado River Storage Project (CRSP) proposed gagging the main channel and some of its principal tributaries with a series of multi-purpose dams. A major, "high" dam was to be located at Echo Park near the confluence of the Green and Yampa Rivers in Dinosaur Na- tional Monument. Another "low" dam was proposed farther down the Colo- rado at Glen Canyon in northern Arizona. By the mid-fifties the plan to flood part of the national monument had come under attack by the interior department's National Park Service, by influential writers like Bernard DeVoto and Wallace Stegner, and by conservation groups such as the Wilderness Soci- ety, the National Parks Association, the Izaak Walton League, and the Sierra Club.9 The Echo Park proposal prompted Saylor to visit Dinosaur National Monument in 1953. The trip was arranged by an opponent of the scheme, Joe Penfold, a Coloradan who served as western representative of the Izaak Walton League. The party, which also consisted of Penfold's son Mike, and Saylor's son Phil, took a Yampa River float trip through remote, rugged canyon lands with master rivermen Bus and Don Hatch. That experience, Penfold later related, made a lasting impression and may have heightened Saylor's commit- ment to wilderness, undisciplined rivers, and the inviolability of national monuments and parklands. Shortly after the trip Bus Hatch wrote David Brower of the Sierra Club that he believed "Congressman Saylor is going to help us out." Little did preservationists realize that his help would grow to become so encompassing, persistent, and effective in the pursuit of wilderness and "an over-all sane view toward a beautiful planet."'1 When the CRSP reached the House Committee on Interior and Insular Affairs in the mid-fifties, Saylor denounced it on several grounds. First, it would defile a "beauteous stretch of wilderness." Flooding the magnificent canyonlands to create a huge lake at Echo Park "would be like applying an air hammer to the chiseled features of Venus de Milo, or using a house painter's 558 Pennsylvania History brush on a Reubens' masterpiece." Second, it violated the sanctity of a "cher- ished national monument," thereby setting a reckless precedent that might endanger the entire national park system. Third, he recoiled at the projected cost of $1.6 billion. Finally, he considered it unfair to expect the taxpayers in the other 44 states to subsidize the cost of projects that would benefit the residents of just four states."1 Saylor preferred an alternative plan, suggested by conservation groups, of constructing a high dam farther downstream at Glen Canyon. The substi- tute facility would satisfy the power and water demands of development-minded westerners and preserve the integrity of the national monument. After two years of deliberation, Congress surrendered to the persistent pressure of preservationists. The revised bill, enacted in late March, 1956, deleted Echo Park dam from the CRSP and called for multi-purpose dams on the river at Glen Canyon, Arizona; Flaming Gorge, Utah; and Navajo, New Mexico at a cost of $750 million. It also contained two special stipulations to ease the fears of park preservationists. One stated that no reservoir created by the CRSP should intrude upon any national preserve. Another instructed the Secretary of the Interior "to take adequate protective measures" to prevent the impounded waters of Glen Canyon Dam from invading Rainbow Bridge National Monu- ment in southern Utah. Despite those concessions, Saylor opposed the bill. The scaled-down project, he argued, would never earn sufficient power rev- enues to pay for itself and proponents eventually would be compelled to seek to restore Echo Park Dam.'2 In leading the House fight against an administration-sponsored reclamation project that had little practical impact on his district, Saylor earned recognition for perseverance, integrity and independent-mindedness. More- over, his defense of wilderness and dedication to the sanctity of national parks and monuments won the respect of David Brower of the Sierra Club, Howard Zahniser of the Wilderness Society and other prominent preservationists. The National Parks Association honored him with an award in 1954 and influential publications such as the New York Times began referring to him as a "leading conservationist."'13 Following the enactment of the CRSP, Saylor continued to guard against renewed efforts to create Echo Park Dam. In April, 1956 he and Representa- tive Wayne Aspinall of western Colorado introduced legislation elevating Di- nosaur Monument to national park status. Their proposal had widespread public support, but it was blocked by Utah's congressional delegation, which still had hopes for Echo Park Dam. For the next three years Saylor tried to gain park status for the monument but without success. 14 River development projects closer to home also drew Saylor's attention. To the dismay of the Pennsylvania congressional delegation, Saylor in 1957 came out against the Kinzua Dam on the Allegheny River in western Pennsyl- John P Saylor of Pennsylvania 559 vania. Following the St. Patrick's Day flood in Pittsburgh that claimed 47 lives and $50 million in property damage, Congress had passed the Flood Control Act of 1936. That measure authorized the construction of a series of dams along two hundred miles of the Allegheny River above Pittsburgh. Kinzua, the uppermost of the nine scheduled dams, was to be located north of the town of Warren near the New York state border. Congressional appropriations for the Kinzua project had been delayed because of World War II and because Seneca Indians objected to having their homes, burial grounds, and about 9,000 productive acres of reservation land in southwestern New York sub- merged by the impounded water at Kinzua. The Seneca Nation argued that the government was bound by the Pickering Treaty of 1794 which entitled them to their lands in perpetuity."5 The Omnibus Public Works Bill of 1957 contained a provision calling for an initial $1 million for the $120 million Kinzua Dam project. Saylor decried the size and cost of the proposed dam. When the United States Army Corps of Engineers first planned the facility in 1936, he pointed out, it had recommended a modest flood control dam with local interests paying for two- thirds of the projected cost of $9 million. Over the years the army engineers had revised the plans so that by the mid-1950s the estimated cost of the largest water storage facility in the northeast had risen to more than $100 million with no contribution from local interests. "That growth is so fantastic it is almost impossible to believe," Saylor lamented. 16 The Johnstown congressman questioned the need for the mammoth dam. Proponents argued that the facility was necessary to protect Pittsburgh from rampaging floods. Saylor contended that the eight existing dams offered sufficient protection. He also used army engineers reports to show that if a dam had existed at Kinzua in 1936, it would have reduced the floodwaters in Pittsburgh by an inconsequential amount. He maintained that proponents were being disingenuous when they claimed flood control as the primary purpose of the project. The alleged secondary purposes of increased water supply and pollution abatement, he charged, were actually of paramount importance. Impounded water in the Allegheny Reservoir at Kinzua could be released for industrial and municipal use and to help cleanse the river of industrial and human waste near Pittsburgh. "Neither water supply nor pollution control is properly a responsibility of the Federal Government," Saylor contended. Wa- ter users in western Pennsylvania should contribute to the cost of the project. 17 Saylor's stance dumbfounded his Pennsylvania colleagues. Robert J. Corbett of Pittsburgh portrayed him as a nature-loving obstructionist. The Allegheny Valley, Corbett boasted, was becoming the world's industrial heart- land and its businesses would pay in taxes ten times the cost of the project. Rivers could not be left untamed. If Pennsylvania and the nation expected to progress economically and maintain their positions of industrial pre-eminence 560 Pennsylvania History then they would "have to harness every drop of water that falls in America and use it over and over." ElmerJ. Holland, another Pittsburgh congressman, "was shocked to see a representative from Pennsylvania, and from Johnstown par- ticularly, ... talk against flood control." He observed that 'there is only one member of the entire Pennsylvania group, either Republican or Democrat, that is opposing the building of this dam," and that Saylor was not representing the sentiments of his constituents. Saylor insisted that he was not opposed to flood control "but where a project is for other purposes," then the Pennsyl- vania delegation should have "the moral courage" to admit it. Other representatives outside the Keystone State shared Saylor's concerns, but hesitated to "enter into the internecine struggle in Pennsylvania" for fear of jeopardizing proposed projects in their own states."8 Saylor also frustrated his colleagues by siding with the Indians. Con- structing Kinzua Dam would "violate one of the oldest treaties of the United States and deprive the Seneca Nation their guaranteed treaty rights," he charged. Such a violation by congress would be immoral and dishonorable. It also would be a foreign policy blunder because the United States would be discredited in the eyes of the world. How could the United States accuse the Soviet Union of treaty violations if Congress could not keep its word to the Senecas? How could allies during the Cold War expect the United States to honor its military commitments if it disregarded a treaty that had existed since 1794?'9 Saylor supported an amendment to the public works bill offered by John Taber of New York, proposing the excision of the Kinzua project from the bill. That amendment was rejected. The Senecas hired engineers who proposed an alternative plan that would have saved their reservation lands, but the army engineers rejected it as too costly. The Senecas also pursued legal action but federal judges, in decisions that eventually reached the United States Supreme Court, ruled that the right of eminent domain superseded a treaty. Construc- tion began at Kinzua in 1961 and the dam opened in 1966. The Seneca Na- tion received from the government $15 million in compensatory damages.20 Kinzua dam was controversial more for its disruptive effect on the Sen- eca Nation than for its deleterious impact on a free-flowing river. The Penn- sylvania Federation of Sportsmen's Clubs, allied with the National Wildlife Federation, wondered about the project's influence on the ecology of the upper Allegheny Valley and unanimously passed a resolution protesting the loss of fishing and canoeing opportunities. But overall, national organizations did not see the development of the river as a major concern.2" Howard Zahnizer of the Wilderness Society considered the valley where he was raised "one of the outstanding stretches of rural loveliness" in the nation and as an individual he protested its flooding. But the project, unlike Echo Park, did not threaten any national preserve so he did not trumpet Kinzua as an organizational cause. He always regretted not having done more to save John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 561 the river valley, but he and other national conservation leaders, having raised a stir over Echo Park, were reluctant to be portrayed as opponents of all resource development. Then, too, Zahniser had his eyes on the larger prize: the enactment of legislation that would preserve millions of acres of wilderness. He could not gather sufficient support for the Wilderness Bill unless he appeared to be accommodating on some resource use. By the early 1960s, especially after the submergence of the magnificent, primeval country at Glen Canyon on the Colorado River, national conservation groups would become more proactive in their opposition to dam building on untamed rivers outside national preserves. They would have an able and dedicated ally in Saylor. But their more aggressive stance in behalf of pristine rivers came too late for the upper Allegheny River and the Seneca Nation.22 While the Wilderness Society focused on the enactment of wilderness legislation, an effort that would take nine years, other preservationists took up the cause of preserving wild rivers. Wildlife biologists John and Frank Craighead sought national protection for the upper Missouri and Flathead rivers in Mon- tana. The National Park Service in 1957 sought to safeguard the Jack's Fork and Current rivers in the Missouri Ozarks. Three years later interior department planners notified congress that there were untamed streams "whose integrity might be preserved in the face of the water-control onslaught if consci- entious planning to this end were applied." In 1961 the Senate Select Com- mittee on Natural Resources proposed that "certain streams be preserved in their free-flowing condition... ." And in 1962 the Outdoor Recreation Re- sources Review Commission (ORRRC) gave its endorsement to a wild rivers system. Headed by philanthropist Laurance Rockefeller, the ORRRC was a bipartisan body created by congress in 1958 to study the future resource and recreation needs of the nation. Saylor introduced legislation creating the commission and served as one of its members.2 3 Stewart Udall, President John F. Kennedy's energetic Interior secretary, also took up the cause. As a member of congress from arid Arizona he had enthusiastically backed the water-development projects at Echo Park and Glen Canyon. But as the concrete plopped into Glen Canyon, Udall, like the preservationists, began to have misgivings about flooding it. An outdoors enthusi- ast and nature lover, he sympathized with the emerging preservationist perspective. As Interior secretary under Kennedy and then Lyndon Johnson, Udall sought to create a conservation program "worthy of the two Roosevelts." For Udall that meant adhering to a traditional agenda that sought to balance resource use and scenic preservation. But it also departed from tradition by advocating wilderness preservation. Udall never renounced dam-building (indeed he supported the Bridge and Marble Dam projects on the lower Colo- rado River that would have flooded part of Grand Canyon National Monu- ment), but he concluded that some rivers should forever flow free.24 562 Pennsylvania History

Following Udall's recommendation in 1963, the Interior and Agricul- tural departments conducted studies of untamed rivers to determine which ones were worthy of permanent protection. The departments prepared a list of 650 waterways and considered sixty-seven deserving of field study. The field evaluations produced twenty-two recommendations. In 1965 President Johnson recommended river protection in his State of the Union address. Udall recalled that after that speech Wayne Aspinall left the floor and told a reporter that wild rivers legislation was a foolish idea. Realizing that Saylor completely supported the wild rivers idea, Udall informed him of Aspinall's comment. "We'll just wear him down," Saylor responded. Udall recalled that Saylor generally was able to "handle" Aspinall and "to bring him around" on important conservation issues.25 The first national wild river bill was drafted by the Interior department and introduced in March, 1965, by Democratic Senator Frank Church of Idaho. It sought immediate protection for the entire Suwanee River in Geor- gia and Florida and segments of five other streams: the Salmon and Clearwater in Idaho, the Rogue in Oregon, the upper Rio Grande in New Mexico, and the Green in Wyoming. Nine other waterways were to be evaluated for inclusion in the system by the Secretaries of Agriculture and Interior in cooperation with officials in the affected states. The cabinet secretaries also could nominate other streams for evaluation. 26 Some senators supported the concept of wild rivers but not if the protected streams were located in their states. Economic development usually predominated over scenic preservation. Milward L. Simpson of Wyoming, for example, protested the inclusion of the Green and senators from Georgia and Florida objected to protection for the Suwanee. But some senators wanted waterways in their states to be included in the system, especially if there were no plans for development. As it played out, wild rivers legislation reflected what political scientist Craig Allin has termed the "pork barrel principle." As with river development projects, senators and representatives got what they wanted in their states and districts. The senate bill was reworked so that the Green and Suwanee Rivers were dropped from the instant protection category but the Cacapon and Shenandoah in West Virginia and the Eleven Point in Missouri were added. A total of seventeen rivers, including the West and North branches of the Susquehanna and portions of the Allegheny were included in the study group. The administration bill passed the Senate by a lopsided vote of 71 to 1.27 Protecting unharnessed rivers seemed to be as popular with the Ameri- can public as it was with the Senate. Outdoor magazines such as The Natural- ist, Better Camping, and National Wildlife devoted feature articles or entire issues to the subject. And the New York Times, Washington Postand numerous other newspapers boosted the idea in editorials.28 John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 563

Despite widespread popular support, the wild rivers bill swirled eddy- like in the House. Forwarded for consideration to the House Interior Com- mittee, Democratic chairman Wayne Aspinall expressed indifference. And after consulting with leading preservationists John Saylor, the ranking minority member on the committee, found the administration bill unacceptable. 29 Saylor enthusiastically supported the protection of unspoiled rivers. Like the famous historian Frederick Jackson Turner, he believed that the frontier or wilderness experience had helped promote democracy, self-reliance, opportunity, and other characteristics that made Americans unique. Unruly rivers also allowed citizens to revisit the past of Champlain, Lewis and Clark, and other adventurers. Besides stirring the voyageur in all of us, undisciplined waterways regenerated the human spirit. Saylor quoted Carl Buchheister of the National Audubon Society who wrote that "the cares and tensions of human society evaporate" for anyone paddling a canoe and "no sleep is so refreshing as a slumber in a tent or sleeping bag on the banks of a wild river." 30 Saylor lauded President Johnson for speaking so eloquently for the need to create a rivers system in his conservation message of February 1966. But those who prepared the legislation "must not have been listening to their Presi- dent or they grew fainthearted and beached their canoe before they reached the rapids." The administration bill, he declared, was "timorous," and "weak- kneed," and the preservation of wilderness could not be gained by "half-baked measures."3' Saylor introduced his own measure. Like most of the rivers it sought to protect, the Saylor bill was forceful, sweeping and rocked a few boats. Pre- pared with the cooperation of Edward Crafts of the Interior Department's Bureau of Outdoor Recreation, Charles Callison of the Audubon Society, and other conservation leaders, it was entitled the Scenic Rivers Bill. Saylor insisted upon the name change because the Senate-passed bill seemed too restrictive. Even by using the Senate's vague definition, there were few streams that could be legitimately designated "wild." He feared that scenic rivers would be denied protection because they did not qualify as remote or unspoiled. Additionally, protecting accessible, scenic rivers would give the bill more mass appeal.32 Waterways, unlike Forestry Service lands that had been protected by the Wilderness Act, had not been already classified according to their degree of wildness. So Saylor introduced a scenic river classification system. Class I areas consisted of streams that were free of pollution, dams, bridges, roads, and shoreline development. Class II comprised waterways with no dams, bridges, or shoreline developments, but some accessibility by roads. Class III rivers had limited shoreline intrusion, were easily accessible by road and rail, and may have had impoundments at one time. Saylor left it to the Interior and Agricul- ture secretaries to place a river in one of the three classifications. 33 564 Pennsylvania History

The administration or Senate bill seemed tame by comparison. It gave initial protective status to seven waterways, whereas Saylor's measure gave scenic status to sixteen streams. The Senate named seventeen rivers for possible inclusion in the system, Saylor nominated sixty-six, including five in Pennsyl- vania. The Senate bill provided no timetable for a decision on the rivers placed in the study category. Saylor provided a schedule that compelled federal and state officials to make a determination within three years for sixteen rivers, including the five in Pennsylvania, and within ten years for the remaining fifty river segments. Both bills prevented the Federal Power Commission from li- censing development projects on rivers immediately designated wild or scenic. But Saylor's measure also prohibited the construction of dams on streams that were in the evaluation process. Both proposals called upon states to ini- tiate river protection plans on their own, but Saylor's version, unlike the Senate's, prevented federal agencies from building dams on state scenic waterways such as the Allagash in Maine. The Senate bill had no restrictions on road building, grazing, and com- mercial timbering. Saylor's legislation outlawed those activities on unsullied streams and restricted them on Class II and Class III rivers. Neither bill had adequate regulations against mining. The Senate version placed no limits on mining, while Saylor's insisted that operations not pollute the stream or un- necessarily spoil the landscape. Finally, both bills sought to minimize the amount of land taken by eminent domain by recommending scenic easements, a relatively new legal arrangement that permitted owners to retain tide to property so long as they kept it in a natural state. The Senate legislation called for scenic easements of one quarter mile from each shore, while the Saylor proposal sought corridors of two miles from each riverbank. In areas where easements were not suitable, the Senate authorized the acquisition of lands within 300 feet from each shore, a beltway that Saylor termed "so inadequate as to border on the ridiculous." He called for the acquisition of a scenic path- way of one mile on each side of the waterway. 34 Saylor's bold bill grabbed national attention. "That nemesis of western reclamation, opponent of public power and ardent wilderness devotee," wrote the political editor of the Idaho Daily Statesman, "has come up with a wild rivers bill that makes the one that passed the Senate last year a model of re- straint in the field." Letter writers from across the nation thanked Pennsylvania's "voice for wilderness" for standing up to "scenic murderers," and for having the "G-U-T-S to keep America beautiful." One woman wrote that rushing rivers were important to her but "absolutely necessary to the survival of my husband." In a similar vein a Michigan physician asserted that without "irre- placeable rivers we have nothing." Correspondents offered additional rivers for inclusion in the system and Harper and Row publishers, perhaps with the popular Sierra Club tides in mind, wanted Saylor to promote the cause with a John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 565 book on wild rivers. Saylor passed on the book offer, but he did advance river protection by authoring an article for the popular magazine Parks & Recre- anon.31 Reclamation proponents considered Saylor's bill too "far-reaching," especially if it touched anticipated projects in their states. In Tennessee support- ers of the Tennessee Valley Authority's proposed Tellico Dam objected to the inclusion of the Little Tennessee River in the three-year study group. Simi- larly, the Ohio Department of Natural Resources considered the bill "anti- thetical" to the state's interests and suggested an amendment permitting dams and roads on scenic streams such as the Little Miami. The proposed amendment would "completely contravene the purposes of the bill," Saylor retorted, and he saw no need to preserve scenic land "if a road or a well built highway follows within five feet of the area." Upset that the legislation had assigned scenic status to the upper Missouri, the Missouri River Development Associa- tion proposed making the entire Susquehanna a protected river. All bridges, dams, and shoreline developments would be removed and westerners would export thousands of pounds of sagebrush seed, and skunks, prairie dogs, elk, and antelope in order to transform the Susquehanna Valley into a wilderness paradise. Saylor initially termed the playful proposal as "asinine," but then mused that if his ancestors had taken protective measures, "how happy I would 3 6 be." Actually, Saylor had to concern himself more with his Pennsylvania con- temporaries than with the distant past. Several of his colleagues, including fellow Republican Albert W Johnson from Smethport, preferred development over preservation and were especially upset over the attempt to preserve the Susquehanna's West Branch from Clearfield to Lock Haven and its North Branch from Cooperstown, New York to Pittston, Pennsylvania. They would create problems for Saylor as the legislation progressed.37 Saylor also had to deal with Aspinall, the fussy, development-minded chairman of the House Committee on Interior and Insular Affairs. He asked the Coloradan to move on the bill but the session ended without action. "The chairman apparently didn't understand President Johnson's direct statement in his conservation message earlier this year that the time had come to preserve free-flowing stretches of our rivers," Saylor grumbled to an outdoor writer. Saylor promised to "hit, kick and scratch" in his battle to obtain a scenic rivers bill. "We cannot afford the delay that allows our heritage of free-flowing rivers of beauty to be destroyed." One supporter, appropriately named Jack Bull, offered the use of his nine-foot bull whip to prod Aspinall. Another proposed ignoring Aspinall and moving ahead. Despite his bravado and bombast, Saylor was a realist who understood that he needed Aspinall's support to gain protection for rivers.3 8 566 Pennsylvania History

Along with thirty-eight co-sponsors, Senator Church reintroduced the administration's rivers bill in January, 1967. At the same time, Saylor reintroduced his bill in the House. The idea of protecting untamed rivers was popular and pressure mounted on congress, especially Aspinall, to move the legislation. Saylor informed a colleague that he had "received more favorable mail on this legislation than any other subject," except to oppose the Bureau of Reclamation's plan to build dams on the Colorado River that would have flooded part of Grand Canyon. To the surprise of preservationists and political observers, Aspinall introduced his own wild rivers bill in April. "He must have owed Saylor some real big favors," recalled Stewart Brandborg of the Wilderness Society. Actually, Aspinall had reached an understanding with Sec- retary of Interior Udall. Aspinall would support a national rivers system if the administration promised to proceed with water development projects in Colo- rado. Indeed, the administration delivered three more dams in Colorado than Aspinall had expected.39 Of the three river proposals, Aspinall's was the most restrictive, Saylor's the most comprehensive. Prepared with the help of Coloradan Joe Penfold of the Izaak Walton League, Aspinall's measure gave instant protection to segments of only four rivers (the Rogue, Rio Grande, Salmon, and Clearwater) and placed portions of twenty others in the review category. The Senate bill preserved nine streams at once and designated thirty-five more for study. And Saylor's proposal immediately protected sixteen river segments and assigned sixty-six others for later consideration. The main attraction of Aspinall's bill, aside from the hope it gave that some legislation was likely, was its strong regulations against mining along protected waterways.40 Saylor was pleased with the Aspinall bill because he believed that it would lead to some kind of compromise legislation. Interior Secretary Udall was also "delighted" with the turn of events. To the dismay of preservationists he dis- owned his own bill and came out in support of Aspinall's measure.4 ' Because it protected more waterways, established a classification system, and set a definite timetable for the indusion of additional rivers, most conservation groups preferred the Saylor bill. The Senate Interior Committee, no doubt influenced by conservationists, adopted various aspects of Saylor's proposal, principally the classification system. The amended Senate bill immediately designated seven rivers "wild," another five as "scenic." Twenty-seven streams were assigned for review at some future date. In August, 1967, the Senate bill passed by a vote of 84-o.42 In the House, rivers legislation stalled yet again. Many members fretted over locking up rivers. Preservationists pointed out that congress could always unlock a preserved river, but once a waterway was dammed, the work could not be undone. Perhaps because they were unaware of the details, Pennsylva- nia congressmen were silent in 1967 over the inclusion in the study group of John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 567 portions of the Susquehanna, Delaware, Clarion, Allegheny, Pine Creek, and Youghiogheny Rivers. Legislators in other states were more vigilant. Congress- man William Cramer of Florida opposed the bill because the Army Corps of Engineers was considering fifty rivers in his state for development. Saylor showed his disdain for the schemes of government engineers when he assured Cramer that "there is not a river basin or river in the entire United States which does not have a recommended comprehensive plan for optimum mul- tiple use or development by either the Corps or the Bureau of Reclamation." 43 Owing to the press of other conservation-related issues, especially the threat to the Grand Canyon, Aspinall failed to schedule hearings on river legislation in 1967. But Saylor was confident that a compromise river preservation bill would be crafted in 1968 by the Ninetieth Congress. He did not anticipate that Pennsylvania politicians would balk and nearly kill the bill.44 The House Interior Committee faced a daunting agenda in 1968. Aspinall and Saylor gave river protection priority over bills to establish Redwoods Na- tional Park, North Cascades National Park, and a national trails system. Aspinall scheduled four days of hearings on the various river protection bills in mid- March. Roy A. Taylor of North Carolina chaired the Subcommittee on Na- tional Parks and Recreation where the bills were sent, but Aspinall, as was his custom, attended all subcommittee hearings. Saylor helped keep the sessions light with his humor, but at times proved a tough interrogator.4 Only a few witnesses spoke out against the legislation. Predictably, the President of the National Reclamation Association opposed any bill that would prevent the development of any river. The subcommittee considered that position unrealistic given the fact that the Senate had unanimously approved a river bill. Other witnesses objected to the fact that they would lose their riverfront property to a grasping government that already held too much land. Despite his conservative philosophy, Saylor had little sympathy for the views of property owners when it came to the preservation of wildlands. They should yield to what he considered to be the greater good of scenic preservation. When he listened to their harangues against an intrusive government he began to wonder if he "was some kind of nut." In a flip and insensitive moment, he reminded witnesses from West Virginia who opposed protection for the Cacapon and Shenandoah rivers that if these streams were not safeguarded, the army engineers would build dams which would submerge their property and he didn't understand how anyone could mine or farm under 40 feet of water. He pointed out that the same right-to-private property argument had been made against the Blue Ridge Parkway but "the country is a great deal better off for having it."46 Most preservationists at the House hearings wanted to create a "legislative supernova" by merging the best features of the Aspinall and Saylor bills. Initially, however, it seemed that the two authors were unwilling to compro- 568 Pennsylvania History mise. Aspinall made it clear that preservationists would not get "the whole pie." When Charles Callison of the Audubon Society expressed a preference for the Saylor bill because it designated sixteen rivers for instant protection, Aspinall advised him to prioritize "because I can tell you very frankly you are not going to get all 16." Aspinall, to Saylor's dismay, also watered down the bill by permitting members of congress to remove rivers in their districts from the protected list. Aspinall was amenable when E. C. Gathings protested the inclusion of that stretch of the Eleven Point river that ran through Arkansas. Agitated, Saylor pointed out that Gathings was not up for re-election and should not have "veto" power. Besides the opinion of the two senators, gover- nor, and constituents should be considered. That comment prompted a scold- ing from Aspinall. He rebuked Saylor for being unyielding and for pushing his version of the bill in Colorado. "He has criss-crossed my State with his proposal like nobody's business. Is he going to give on this?" "It depends on how much I get in return," Saylor shot back. "I am a poker player. I have learned a good many tricks. I have watched him. I have sat at the feet of Gamaliel and I have learned. I hope he does not envy the fact that his student has been more than apt."47 Their differences were reconciled during the executive session of the subcommittee. The new bill retained Saylor's river classification system but also incorporated Aspinall's strong restrictions against mining. It granted immediate protection to six rivers that were truly undeveloped: the Salmon and Clearwater (Idaho), Rogue (Oregon), Rio Grande (New Mexico), Wolf (Wis- consin), and St. Croix (Wisconsin and Minnesota). Segments of twenty-eight other streams, including the five in Pennsylvania, were placed on the study list for possible inclusion in the system at a later date. Aspinall recommended that Saylor be given the honor of introducing the new, clean bill with more than twenty-co-sponsors. The full committee approved the compromise measure and forwarded it to the House on July 1, 1968.4" Presumably because of time constraints-Congress was scheduled to recess in August for the national political conventions-Aspinall and Saylor asked House Speaker John McCormack for a suspension of the rules on scenic rivers and five other bills that had been reported by the House Interior Com- mittee. Normally, a bill isgiven a rule and then sent to the floor for debate and amendments. (Suspending a rule, which requires a two-thirds vote from the members, means that the legislation issent to the floor but cannot be amended.) Waiting for a rule took time and Aspinall and Saylor may have feared that Congress would adjourn without acting on the bill. Additionally, they may have wanted to suspend the rules so that their colleagues could not gut the bill with amendments. Legislators, after all, had been given an opportunity to remove rivers from the bill during the hearings or through correspondence. Another possibility, raised by disgruntled preservationists, is that Aspinall John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 569 wanted to sabotage the bill and sought the unusual legislative procedure know- ing that it would fail. He had used a similar legislative gimmick in 1962 to delay the Wilderness Bill. But the more reasonable interpretation isthat Aspinall and Saylor had an ambitious conservation agenda, which included a strong scenic rivers bill, and wanted to enact as much legislation as they could before congress adjourned.49 On the evening of July 16, just before adjournment for the summer recess, the decision to suspend the rules came before the whole House. Repre- sentatives from Pennsylvania, New York, and a few other states raised objections. Upon instructions from Governor Raymond Shafer, Pennsylvania Con- gressmen Daniel Flood of Wilkes-Barre, Joseph McDade of Scranton, and William Green of Philadelphia balked at the procedure because they wanted to add amendments-deleting the Susquehanna and Clarion Rivers in Penn- sylvania. Their position had been influenced by Maurice Goddard, the state's Secretary of Forests and Waters. He had testified for the bill during the subcommittee hearings, but then reversed himself when he realized that water development projects were banned while a proposed scenic river was under study. Several projects were under consideration for the Susquehanna, including an atomic reactor on the North Branch and Interstate Highway 80 along the West Branch. And in the western part of the state, the Clarion River Orga- nization for Water Development (CROWD) championed the Army Engi- neers proposal to build the St. Petersburg reservoir.50 Taken aback, proponents of the scenic rivers bill sought to save it by promising to remove any objectionable river from the study group when House and Senate conferees met to work out their differences. But opponents were not won over because the House might not be able to work its will on the Senate. The vote to suspend the rules failed and the scenic rivers bill seemed to have been "sunk without a trace."'" Embarrassed and angered by the rebuff from Shafer and the Pennsylva- nia delegation, Saylor was not optimistic about the bill's chances. After all, the session would end in mid-October. Udall and other proponents urged him to salvage the bill by seeking an ordinary rule and then offering amendments removing Pennsylvania's rivers from the study category. Still brooding, Saylor refused. He could not in good conscience withdraw Pennsylvania waterways and retain streams in other states. The legislation, he told Udall, "is defeated for this Congress in my opinion, and I have no intention of seeking a rule to have its further consideration."'52 Then came a telegram from Shafer. Pennsylvania would withdraw its objections to the bill if amendments were approved that either eliminated the Susquehanna and Clarion Rivers or lifted the moratorium on development projects for study streams. Saylor's sarcastic reply indicated that he might satisfy the demands. Was the governor aware, he asked, that the Clarion "is a part 570 Pennsylvania History of my Congressional District and neither you, your legislative staff nor your department heads have had [the] courtesy to discuss the matter with me?" Did Shafer understand that in committee hearings Pennsylvania's Secretary of Forests and Waters, who he assumed "spoke for" the administration, endorsed the moratorium of the economic development of study streams, including the Clarion and Susquehanna? Given the governor's parochial preference for "optimum impoundment and river development" over the national perspective of protecting selected untamed waterways, he would offer an amendment, if the bill were revived, removing all Pennsylvania waterways from the study category. But he would take no action until the governor had the courtesy to consult with him.53 It isnot clear whether Saylor's offer to remove all Pennsylvania rivers was genuine. Since Congressmen McDade, Flood, and Johnson opposed study status for the North and West Branches of the Susquehanna he realized that those streams would be deleted from the bill. The upper Allegheny was in Johnson's district so that stream too would go. But the Clarion was in his district and he was reluctant to remove it even though John Murtha, his Demo- cratic congressional opponent, favored development of the waterway. At any rate, Shafer never conferred directly so Saylor considered the arrangement void.54 Meanwhile, conservation groups began to mobilize public opinion. In- deed, Saylor told a friend that he delayed seeking a rule in order to give his conservationist friends time to get out the message. And citizens were recep- tive because it seemed that no river was safe from development. The year before preservationists, with Saylor at the forefront, had successfully blocked an attempt by the Bureau of Reclamation to construct dams on the Colorado River that would have flooded part of Grand Canyon. Now it seemed that water planners were trying to kill scenic rivers legislation. The New York Times blasted those "parochial pork-barrel politicians" who had served a "death war- rant" on the Susquehanna River and other unspoiled waterways. Conserva- tion organizations urged Shafer to reconsider his position. The Wilderness Society sought to shame the governor by pointing out that his stance was contrary to the state's "reputation for leadership" in the field of conservation. "The Pinchot tradition has been deep and influential and we feel it is not accidental that one of the outstanding conservationists of our time is a Penn- sylvanian and the author of the scenic rivers bill." In a special memorandum entitled "Position of Pennsylvania's Governor Imperils Passage of National Rivers System Bill," it urged its 2000 Pennsylvania members to write Shafer and members of congress recommending support for the "landmark conservation measure."55 Letters streamed into the governor's office. Correspondents were "dis- tressed," "dismayed," and "horrified" by Shafer's "tragic," "lamentable," and John P Saylor of Pennsylvania 571

"absolutely incomprehensible" position. Even fellow Republican Frank Masland, a nationally respected conservationist who headed the governor's Committee on Natural Resources, implored Shafer to reevaluate his position.56 Faced with a public relations fiasco, Shafer's staff scrambled to minimize the damage. But their long-awaited explanation strained belief In effect, they claimed that the state could better manage Pennsylvania's rivers than the federal government. They wanted to develop some waterways such as the Allegh- eny, Clarion, and Susquehanna and preserve portions of others such as the Delaware, Pine and Youghiogheny. They could move more quickly to protect streams than congress. "We're moving ahead in Pennsylvania," claimed Goddard, "and we don't want our progress halted."57 Off September 4, the first day that Congress returned from its recess, Aspinall and Saylor requested reconsideration of the bill. The Rules Commit- tee agreed and scheduled the bill for debate under an open rule which allowed amendments. Conservation groups hailed the decision and endorsed the res- urrected bill. So did Shafer, conditionally. Pennsylvania would support the legislation if the Susquehanna and Clarion were removed or if Congress permitted economic development on study streams.58 The House took up discussion of the bill on September 12. Aspinall and Saylor reviewed its history, explained its provisions, and recommended passage. Setting aside scenic rivers. Saylor acknowledged, seemed to contradict most peoples' idea of progress. But "the real challenge of this society is to preserve what we know has been good and useful in our American way of life." A national scenic rivers system would give all citizens, "and especially our children, an opportunity to appreciate: A sense of history, a sense of environment, a sense of national place, and a sense of joy for free-flowing water." Having delivered an emotional plea for rivers, Saylor then left for Johnstown to attend the funeral of his younger brother Tillman who had died from a heart attack. 59 During the floor debate several amendments were offered affecting six rivers from the study group. At the request of representatives from New York and Pennsylvania the Susquehanna-both the North Branch and West Branch-was removed from the bill. Saylor considered the Susquehanna, especially the West Branch, "one of the few scenic rivers left in the East" and had informed Aspinall that he was going to fight for its inclusion. Aspinall regretted the absence of the river's champion, but he did not want "to upset any State or any group of States" and always deferred to the members of congress whose districts were affected. The amendments were approved and the Saylor bill, even without its sponsor there to support it, passed by a vote of 265 to 7.6o With the passage of the bill, both chambers appointed conferees to work out the differences between the House and Senate versions. Saylor served as 572 Pennsylvania History one of eight House conferees and was instrumental in shaping the final legislation. Renumbered S. 119 and entitled the Wild and Scenic Rivers Bill, the conferees essentially followed the House version. Several modifications, however, were added to address the Senate's concerns. Saylor's classification system was changed from the stark Class I, Class II, and Class III zones, to the more illustrative "wild river", "scenic river", and 'recreational river" areas. As with the House bill, the executive branch would determine the stream's classification, while the legislative branch made the decision to include a waterway in the system. The period allotted for a decision on the rivers placed in the study group was increased from five to ten years. Dam building and mining were prohibited. The conference committee shrunk the shoreline from one to one- quarter of a mile and slightly reduced the appropriation for the acqui'Ition of river land and scenic easements from $17.3 to 17.0 million.6 ' Some conferees, including Saylor, sought protection for additional waterways. Two rivers, the Eleven Point in Missouri and the Middle Fork of the Feather in California were switched from the study list to the immediate des- ignation category. Four streams were added to the study group, including two from Pennsylvania at Saylor's request, the lower Allegheny and a portion of the Youghiogheny. He and Senator Joe Clark of Pennsylvania also sought to reinsert both branches of the Susquehanna in the study group but Aspinall insisted upon legislative prerogative and neither river made it. In all, the bill gave instant protection to eight rivers and placed portions of twenty-seven others, including five in Pennsylvania, in the study group. The House and Senate approved the work of the conference committee and President Johnson signed the bill into law on October 2, 1968.62 The National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act was part of a congressional conservation package that included Redwoods National Park, North Cascades National Park, and the National Trails System. Preservationists hailed the "epochal" achievements of the Ninetieth Congress, especially the protection of rivers. Indeed, except for its companion, the Wilderness Act, after which it was patterned, the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act was the most sweeping and significant piece of preservationist legislation in the 1960s. Within a decade, nineteen rivers totaling 1,655 miles had been protected. With the expiration of the ten-year study period, additional legislation was passed in 1978 that eventually brought the list to sixty-six waterways covering 7300 miles. By the mid-1990s, the list had grown to 154 units totaling 10,500 miles. Three of those nationally protected river segments are the Allegheny, Clarion, and Delaware Rivers in Pennsylvania. As the original bill intended, individual states also safeguarded rivers. The state of Pennsylvania, for example, eventually designated as scenic thirteen rivers, including a segment of the Pine.63 John P Saylor of Pennsylhnia 573

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Saylor had worked dosely with conservation leaders to craft an ambitious and effective rivers protection bill. He was forced to compromise, but the result was a stronger bill than the administration, the Senate, Committee Chairman Aspinall, Governor Shafer, and some Pennsylvania congressmen had intended. Recognizing Saylor for being of "inestimable value" in securing the conservation bills, President Johnson gave him one of the pens at the signing ceremony. The Democratic administration acknowledged privately that it wanted to honor the Republican member of Congress because for a decade he had served "as a lever to push Aspinall into action on 'must' legislation." Congressional colleagues praised Saylor as "Mr. Conservation" for sponsoring a rivers bill that would "mark a place in the history of conservation for all time to come." Conservation organizations also recognized his contributions. He became the first recipient of the Bernard Baruch Conservation Award and also received awards from the Pennsylvania Fish and Game Protective Association and the Izaak Walton League. Saylor did not live to see all of the study rivers brought into the system, but as the tenth anniversary of the bill approached, Nafonal Geogvphic devoted a special feature to 'America's Wild and Scenic Rivers." It witnessed gangly waterways, pavilioned in natural splendor, crawl- ing and rushing to their destinations. Some ran "clean and free, as of old," and 574 Pennsylvania History others yielded "a respite to the modern soul." In some remote regions, "that purest poetry of nature, the chiming of a mountain stream," could be de- tected. There were also "dark-shadowed rivers" that recalled our pioneer heritage. That precious riverine legacy was bequeathed to the nation, in large measure, by John Saylor, a politically astute, environmentally-sensitive congressman from a Pennsylvania steel town.64 John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 575

Notes 1. David McCulloch, The Johnstown Flood Environmentalism In The United States Since (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1986). 1945 (Fort Worth, Texas: Harcourt Brace and Ramon Cooper, The Floodand the Future: The Fort Worth Company, 1998); Clayton Story ofa Year in City Government atjohnstown, Koppes, "Efficiency/Equity/Esthetics: Toward Pa., 1936 (Johnstown: McKeown Printing a Reinterpretation ofAmerican Conservation," Company, 1936). In mid-July 1977, four years Environmental Review, XI (1987), 127-146; after Saylor's death, a third flood struck Samuel P. Hays, "From Conservation to En- Johnstown killing seventy-seven people. vironment: Environmental Politics in the 2. To date there in no biography of Zahniser. United States Since World War II," Environ- For Carson see Linda Lear, Rachel Carson: mental Review, VI (1982), 1-29. Witness For Nature (New York: Henry Holt 6. For Muir, Leopold and the emergence of a and Company, 1997). For Abbey's Pennsylva- wilderness philosophy, see Roderick Nash, nia origins, see James M. Cahalan, "'My Wilderness and the American Mind (3d ed., People': Edward Abbey's Appalachian Roots New Haven: Yale University Press, 1982), 182- in Indiana County, Pennsylvania," Pittsburgh 271; Susan R Schrepfer, The Fight To Save the History, 79 (Fall 1996), 92-107, (Winter 1996/ Redwoods: A History ofEnvironmentalReform, 97), 160-178. 1917-1978 (Madison: University of Wiscon- 3. John P. Saylor to Frank Romeo, October sin Press, 1978), 103-129, 161-170; Craig W 25, 1966, box 37, John Saylor Papers, Indi- Allin, The Politics of Widerness Preservation ana University of Pennsylvania Library (here- (Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1982), after Saylor Papers); John Saylor, "Our Out- 60-169; Stephen Fox, John Muir And His doors," address before theWilderness Club of Legacy: The American Conservation Movement Philadelphia, reprinted in CongressionalRecord, (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1981); 85th Cong., 1 Sess., p. 6017; J. Phillips Saylor Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac (New (son), interview with the author, August 4, York: Oxford University Press, 1949); Susan 1993; Anna Catherine Saylor Bennett (sister), L. Flader, Thinking Like a Mountain: Aldo interview with the author, August 4, 1997; Leopold and the Evolution ofan EcologicalAtti- David Saylor (nephew), interview with the tude TowardDeer, Wolves, and Forests (Colum- author, July 14, 1997; Susan Saylor Wisor bia: University of Missouri Press, 1974). (daughter), interview with the author, July 16, 7. Pat Murray, former clerk, House Interior 1997. and Insular Affairs Committee, interviewwith 4. Owing to reapportionment, the 26th be- the author, July 14, 1997 and anonymous came the 22nd and then the 12th district. The source, interview with the author, July 1997. Johnstown Bethlehem steel plant employed 8. Mark W. T. Harvey, A Symbol Of Wilder- 16,000 workers in its six divisions along the ness: Echo Park and the American Conservation Conemaugh and Little Conemaugh Rivers. Movement (Albuquerque: University of New For a brief economic history ofJohnstown, see Mexico Press, 1994), xv. the Johnstown Tribune-Democrat,January 3 1, 9. Ibid., 77-128; Stephen Bradley, "Folboats 1953. For steelmaking, see Sharon A. Brown, Through Dinosaur," Sierra Club Bulletin, 37 HistoricResource Study: CambriaIron Company (December 1952), 1-8; Bernard DeVoto, (Washington, D.C.: Department of Interior/ "Shall We Let Them Ruin Our National National Park Service, 1989); Richard A. Parks?" Saturday Evening Post, 223 (July 22, Burkert with George Hand, "Iron and Steel- 1950), 17-19,42-48; Wallace Stegner, "Battle making in the Conemaugh Valley in Karl ForThe Wilderness," New Republic, 130 (Feb- Berger, ed., Johnstown: The Story ofA Unique ruary 15, 1954), 13-15. Valley (Johnstown: The Johnstown Flood 10. Quotes from David Brower, "John Phillips Museum, 1984), 255-313. On the political Saylor, 1908-1973," Not Man Apart, 3 (De- makeup of the district in 1949, see LeRoy cember-January, 1973), 1; Joe Penfold in Greene, The Truth Shall Set You Free (Harris- Apollo [PA} News Record, June 25, 1954, burg: The Republican State Committee of Scrapbook 1954, Saylor Papers; J. Phillips Pennsylvania, 1949), box 24, Saylor Papers. Saylor, interview with the author, August 4, 5. For the transformation of conservation val- 1993; Mike Penfold, letter to the author, Au- ues and tactics following World War II, see gust 22, 1997. For Bus Hatch, see Roy Webb, Hal K. Rothman, The Greening OfA Nation?: Riverman: The Story of Bus Hatch (Rock 576 Pennsylvania History

Springs, Wyoming: Labyrinth Publishing, 1958: HearingsBefore the Subcommittee (Wash- 1989). ington D.C., Government Printing Office, 11. CongressionalRecord, 83 Cong., 2 Sess., 1957),676-689; Rosier, "Dam Building," 358. pp., 5908-5910,7034; U.S. Congress, House 22. Howard Zahniser to George Alexander, of Representatives, 83 Cong., 2 Sess., House May 2, 1957, series 6, box 100, Wilderness Report 1774, (Washington D.C. Government Society Papers; Ed Zahniser, telephone inter- Printing Office, 1954), pp. 30-33; Congres- view with the author, August 7, 1997. For the sional Record, 84 Cong., I Sess., pp. 7918- impact of the loss of Glen Canyon on conser- 7921, 7986-7987. Quotes on pp.7918,7987. vationists, see Harvey, Symbol of Wilderness, 12. CongressionalRecord, 84 Cong., 2 Sess., 280-282; Michael McCloskey, 'Wilderness pp. 3605-3607, 3744-3747, 3754. Movement at the Crossroads," PaificHistori- 13. New York Times, October 3, 1954, May calfReview, 41 (August 1972),346-361. As the 13, 1956; "He Fights For Conservation," editor of the Wilderness Society's magazine, SportsAfield(july 1955) reprinted in Congres- Zahniser published an article urging the pro- sional Record, 84 Cong., 1 Sess., p. 11102; tection of some rivers as "living museums" as Howard Zahniser to Saylor, July 29, 1955 re- early as 1949. See Wallace G. Schwass, "Wild printed in CongressionalRecord, 84 Con., I Waters," The Living Wilderness, 14 (Spring Sess., p. A 6209; Congressman James A. Haley 1949), 1-3. on Saylor, CongressionalRecord, 84 Cong., 2 23. See John Craighead to Stewart Brandborg, Sess., p. 4104; Fred Packard, Executive Secre- December 12, 1956, series 6, box 102, Wil- tary, National Parks Association, memoran- derness Society Papers; Stewart Brandborg to dum to Conservation Organizations, Septem- John Craighead, October 31, 1957, Council ber 23, and press release, "A Tribute to Repre- Members Files: Stewart Brandborg, Wilder- sentative John P. Saylor," October 14, 1954, ness Society Papers; "History and Legislative unprocessed files of Michael Nadel, Wilder- Background of Scenic Rivers Bill," undated ness Society Papers, Western History Depart- memorandum, box 33, Saylor Papers; Wallace ment, Denver Public Library. G. Schwass, "Wild Waters," The Living Wi1- 14. CongressionalRecord, 84 Cong., 2 Sess., derness, 14 (Spring 1949), 1-3; Frank pp. 6570, 7174-7176, 85 Cong., I Sess., p. Craighead, Jr., and John Craighead, "River 81; Saylor to Horace Albright, April 10, Saylor Systems - Recreational Classification, Inven- toAnselAdams, April 26,1959, box 37, Saylor tory and Evaluation," TheNaturalist, 13 (Sum- Papers. mer, 1962), 1-13; Joe Penfold, "Battle of the 15. For selected general works on the Kinzua Rivers," The Izaak Walton Magazine, 28 (No- controversy, see Alvin Josephy, "Cornplanter, vember 1963), 10-11; Tim Palmer, Endangered Can You Swim?"American Heritage,XIX (De- Rivers and the Conservation Movement (Berke- cember 1968), 4-9, 106-110; Paul Rosier, ley: University of California Press, 1986), 136- "Dam Building and Treaty Breaking: The 139. Kinzua Dam Controversy, 1936-1958," The 24. Stewart Udall, "Last Look at Glen," draft PennsylvaniaMagazine ofHistory & Biography manuscript, box 209, Stewart Udall Papers, CXIX (October 1995), 345-368; Roland University ofArizona Library, Tucson, Arizona; Smith, "The Politics of Pittsburgh Flood Con- Thomas G. Smith, "John Kennedy, Stewart trol, 1936-1960," Pennsylvania History, 44 Udall and New Frontier Conservation," Pa- (January 1977), 3-24. cificHistoricalReview, 64 (August 1995), 329- 16. CongressionalRecord, 85 Cong., I Sess., p. 362. 9675. 25. Department of Agriculture and Depart- 17. CongressionalRecord, 85 Cong., I Sess., p. ment of The Interior, press releases, May 14, 9705. August 15, November 15, 1963, box 235, 18. CongressionalRecord, 85 Cong., I Sess., Clinton Anderson Papers, Library of Congress, pp. 9705-9707, 9672. Washington D.C.; Saylor quoted in Palmer, 19. CongressionalRecord; 85 Cong., 1 Sess., p. Endangered; 145; Udall on Saylor in Stewart 9706. Udall, telephone interview with the author, 20. Ibid. June 4, 1997. 21. CongressionalRecord; 85 Cong., I Sess., 26. Stewart Udall to House Speaker John W. 9703; U.S. Congress, House Committee on McCormack, March 3, 1965, box 37, Saylor Appropriations, PublicWorksAppropriation for Papers; CongressionalRecord,89 Cong., 1 Sess., John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 577

4290. Natural Resources, to Member of Congress, 27. Craig Allin, The Politics of Wilderness Pres- Clarence J. Brown, Jr., September 26, Brown ervation, 173-174. to Saylor, September 30, Saylor to Brown, 28. Special issue, "Wild Rivers," The Natural- October 19, 1966, Harry Burns to Saylor, June ist, 16 (Autumn 1965); "Wild Rivers," Better 14, 1966, unidentified, undated newsclip, box Camping, 7 (April 1966); "The Wild Rivers," 33, Saylor Papers. NationalWildlife, 4 (February-March 1966); 37. Albert Johnson to Saylor, February 19, "Free-Flowing Rivers," editorial, New York Saylor to Johnson, February 25, 1966; Tri- Times, January 20, 1966; "Singing Rivers," City Times-News, April 24, 1966; George editorial, Washington Post, January 20, 1966; Needle, manager of Quaker State Oil Refin- "Saving the Heritage of the Wild Rivers," edi- ing Corporation, to Saylor, April 25, Paul torial, Arkansas Gazette, January 22, 1966. Lipsie to Saylor, undated, Saylor to Lipsie, May 29. For Aspinall's indifference, see New York 19, D.C. Soles to Saylor, May 18, Saylor to Times Magazine, January 23, 1966. Soles, May 19, 1966, box 33, Saylor Papers. 30. Press release from the office of Congress- 38. Saylor to Aspinall, May 24, 1966, Sports man John P Saylor, May 9, 1966, box 33, Afield dipping attached to R B. Holtzendorf Saylor Papers; CongressionalRecord, 89 Cong., to Saylor, July 1, 1966, Jack Bull to Saylor, 2 Sess., 10043. June 29, 1966, Saylor to Theodore Bingham, 31. CongressionalRecord, 89 Cong., 2 Sess., June 16, 1966, box 33, Saylor Papers. 10043. 39. CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 1 Sess., 32. Edward C. Crafts to John Saylor, Febru- 97; John Saylor to Wayne Aspinall, February ary 5, 1966, Charles Callison, memorandum 9,1967, John Saylor to William Cramer, May for Ann Dunbar, February 8, 1966 with at- 18, 1967, box 33, Saylor Papers; Brandborg tached letter to the editor of the New York quoted in Palmer, Endangered, 145; Bill Prime, Times, January 28, 1966, box 33, Saylor Pa- "Wild Rivers: An Opinion," American White pers. Water, 12 (Spring 1967), 9. Representative 33. CongressionalRecord, 89 Cong., 2 Sess., Henry S. Reuss (Wisconsin) also introduced 10043. a House bill, prepared by the Department of 34. CongressionalRecord, 89 Cong., 2 Sess., the Interior, which was nearly identical to the 10043; John P. Saylor, address to the Florida Senate bill, see Assistant Secretary of the Inte- Audubon Convention, January 30, 1967, re- rior to the Speaker of the House of Represen- printed in CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 1 tatives with attached bill, February 18, 1967, Sess., 1806-1808; Saylor testimony, U.S. Con- box 33, Saylor Papers. For Penfold's contribu- gress, Senate Committee on Interior and In- tions to the Aspinall bill, see John Saylor to sular Affairs, Hearings on S. 119 (Washington Stephen Bradley, March 11, 1968, box 33, D.C., Government Printing Office, 1967), 35- Saylor Papers. 39. 40. For an analysis of the various rivers bills, 35. John Corlett in The Idaho Daily Statesman, see William Steif in the Knoxville, News-Sen- May 19, 1966; editorials, The JournalHerald tinel, April 23, 1967; Charles Callison, "Na- [Dayton, Ohio], May 25, 1966, GrandRap- tional Outlook," Audubon, 69 (November- ids Press, July 17,1966; Charles Callison, "Na- December 1967), 70-71; Assistant Secretary tional Outlook,"Audubon Magazine, 68 July- of the Interior to John Saylor with attached August 1966), 226-227; "Scenic Rivers Bill Is memorandum, "Principal Differences Between Lauded," Trout, 8 January-February 1967), H.R. 8416 [Aspinall], S. 119, H.R. 90 10; Joe H. Simpson to Saylor, May 16, Anne [Saylor], and H.R 6166 [Reuss], September La Monte to Saylor, July 14, Hazen Miller to 18, 1967, box 33, Saylor Papers. Saylor, July 14, John Macrae, executive editor 41. John Saylor to Stephen Bradley, June 6, of Harper & Row Publishers to Saylor, No- 1967, box 33, Saylor Papers; Allin, Wilderness vember 22, December 9, Robert Weeden to Preservation, 175. Saylor, December 21, 1966, box 33, Saylor 42. For the preference of preservationist lead- Papers; John P. Saylor, "Once Along A Scenic ers for the Saylor bill, see Charles Callison River," ParksandRecreation, 3 (August 1968), (Audubon Society) to Stewart Brandborg 20-22, 57-58. (Wilderness Society), June 20, 1967, Daniel 36. Knoxville News-Sentinel, May 10, 1966; A. Poole (Wildlife Management Institute) to Fred E. Morr, Director, Ohio Department of Brandborg, June 28, 1967, John Craighead to 578 Pennsylvania History

Brandborg, July 5, 1967, Frank Craighead to July 16, 1968, Kastenmeier and McClure to Brandborg, July 13, 1967, series 6, box 100, Saylor, July 29, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers. Wilderness Society Papers; Congressional 53. Raymond Shafer to John Saylor, August Record, 90 Cong., 1 Sess., 21751; Stephen 1, 1968, John Saylor to Raymond Shafer, Au- Bradley blasted the Aspinall bill to Joe Penfold gust 2, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; James Van not realizing that Penfold had authored it, see Zandt, Special Representative to the Gover- Bradley to Penfold, February 21, 1968, box nor, to Robert Bloom, Secretary to the Gov- 33, Saylor Papers. ernor, August 6, 1968, carton 118, Manuscript 43. John Saylor to William Cramer, May 18, Group 209, Raymond Shafer Papers, Penn- 1967, box 33, Saylor Papers. sylvania State Archives, Harrisburg, Pennsyl- 44. John Saylor to 0. U. Walling, December vania (hereafter Shafer Papers). 6, 1967, box 33, Saylor Papers. 54. AlbertJohnson to John Saylor, September 45. Press release, House Committee on Inte- 17, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; Don Stroup rior and Insular Affairs, February 19, 1968, to Raymond Shafer, August 28, 1968, James box 33, Saylor Papers; U. S.Congress, House Van Zandt to Theodore Robb, September 17, Committee on Interior and Insular Affairs, 1968, carton 118, Shafer Papers. HearingBefore the Subcommittee on National 55. John Saylor to Frank Masland, September Parks and Recreation on H.R. 8416, H.R 90, 23, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; New York S. 19And Related Bills, March 7, 8, 18, and Times, editorial, July 21, 1968; Daniel Poole 19, 1968 (Washington D.C., Government (Wildlife Management Institute) to Raymond Printing Office, 1968), hereafter Hearings on Shafer, July 29, 1968, Thomas Kimball (Na- H.R. 90. tional Wildlife Federation) to Shafer, July 30, 46. Hearings on H.R 90, 397-408, quotes on 1968, Spencer Smith (Citizens' Committee on 399, 408. Natural Resources) to Shafer, July 31, 1968, 47. Hearingson H.R 90, 243, 142. Stewart Brandborg (Wilderness Society) to 48. Minutes, Executive Session, House Sub- Shafer, August 1, 1968, Richard Stroud (Na- committee on National Parks and Recreation, tional Sport Fishing Institute) to Shafer, Au- June 10, 11, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; U.S. gust 1, 1968, Stewart Brandborg, Special Congress, House of Representatives, 90 Cong., Memorandum to Pennsylvania Members and 2 Sess., House Report No. 1623, ProvidingFor Cooperators, August 7, 1968, Allston Jenkins A National Scenic Rivers System (Washington (Philadelphia Conservationists) to Shafer, D.C., Government Printing Office, 1968). August 12, 1968, carton 118, Shafer Papers. 49. Wayne Aspinall to John W. McCormack, 56. Frank Masland to Raymond Shafer, Au- July 9, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; Allin, gust 9, 1968, J. Stuart Zahniser to Shafer, Wilderness Preservation, 175. August 15, 1968. The letters quoted are re- 50. Telegram, Raymond Shafer to Joseph spectively, Ethel Chubb to Shafer, August 18, McDade, July 15, 1968, box 33, Saylor Pa- Ned Coates to Shafer, August 30, Ester En- pers. For the debate, see CongressionalRecord, glish to Shafer, September 3, Beatrice Fenton 90 Cong., 2 Sess., 21450-21461. For to Shafer, August 12, Mariana Coleman to Goddard's reversal, see Edward Crafts to Shafer, September 7, 1968, carton 118, Shafer Maurice Goddard, July 17, 1968, box 33, Papers. Of the scores of letters on this subject, Saylor Papers. For CROWD, see The Derrick, only one supported the governor's actions. May 23, July 16, 1968, Ray Pope to John 57. James Stevenson, Publisher The Titusville Saylor, July 17, 1968, Don Stroup to John Heralk to Robert Bloom, August 21, Bloom Saylor, August 28, 1968, John McClain to to Stevenson, August 29, Stevenson to Bloom, John Saylor, September 19, 1968, box 33, August 31, 1968, carton 118 Shafer Papers; Saylor Papers. Goddard quoted in Pittsburgh Press, August 51. CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., 25, 1968. 21456, 21461. 58. Wayne Aspinall and John Saylor to House 52. John Saylor to Stewart Udall, July 22, Rules Committee, September 4, 1968, tele- 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers. Edward Crafts gram, Raymond Shafer to John Saylor, Sep- of the Bureau of Outdoor Recreation and Rep- tember 10, 1968, box 33, Saylor Papers; Pitts- resentatives Robert Kastenmeier and James burgh Post Gazette, September 10, 1968. McClure also urged Saylor to seek an ordi- 59. CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., nary rule, see Crafts to Saylor and Aspinall, 26591-26592. John P. Saylor of Pennsylvania 579

60. CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., ciety, to Daniel Elazar, July 18, 1968, box 33, 26588-26611. Besides the Susquehanna, the Saylor Papers; memorandum, "River Mileage other deleted rivers were the Cumberland Classifications For Components Of The Na- (Tennessee), Niobrara (Nebraska), and a tribu- tional Wild And Scenic Rivers System," Oc- tary of the Little Miami (Ohio). tober 1976, box 100, series 6, Wilderness So- 61. U.S. Congress, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., House ciety Papers; United States Department of the of Representatives, House Conference Report Interior, National Park Service, River Mileage No. 1917, NationalWild andScenicRivers Sys- ClassificationsFor Components OfThe National tem (Washington D.C., Government Printing Wild And Scenic Rivers System, (Washington Office, 1968). D.C., National Park Service, Division of Park 62. CongressionalRecord, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., Planning, 1996); State of Pennsylvania, De- 28016-28017; Pittsburgh Post Gazette, Octo- partment of Conservation and Natural Re- ber 3, 1968. sources, Pennsylvania ScenicRivers System (Har- 63. Michael McCloskey, "Four Major New risburg, 1993). Conservation Laws: A ReviewAndA Preview," 64. Mike Manatos, memorandum for Jim Sierra Club Bulletin, 43 (November 1968), 4- Jones, October 2, 1968, box 86, White House 10 ("epochal"); Charles Callison, "National Central Files, Lyndon B. Johnson Papers, Outlook," Audubon, 70 (November-Decem- Lyndon B. Johnson Library, Austin, Texas; Joe ber 1968), 80; "The Wild Rivers Flowing," Skubitz (Kansas) on Saylor in Congressional editorial, New York Times, September 22, Record, 90 Cong., 2 Sess., 266595. Congress- 1968; "Conservation in the 90th Congress," man Tunney (California) called the rivers bill editorial, Living Wilderness, 32 (Summer "landmark," and "pattern-setting," and Joseph 1968), 2; "A Folio Of Conservation Plusses in Karth (Minnesota) considered it "great" legis- the Ninetieth Congress," Living Wilderness, 32 lation. See ibid., 26592, 28015; "Preserving (Summer 1968), 44-46; M. Rupert Cutler, the Nation's Wild Rivers," National Geo- Assistant Executive Secretary, Wilderness So- graphic, 152 (July 1977), 2-52.