
"An overland traveler heading straight west from Pennsylvania would strike prairies of increasing magnitude until, twenty miles beyond the Wabash River he might walk up out of the forested floodplain, step through a screen of sumac and wild plum, and stand blinking in a land that blazed with light and space."
— Where the Sky Began: Land of the Tallgrass Prairie, John Madson
It must have been like being born again. New World travelers, bursting westward full of hope for a future beyond their imaginations, could never have pictured what the French termed belles preries. Hardwood forests could not have prepared these pioneers for miles of undulating grasses that they themselves could only compare to the waves of a recently crossed Atlantic. To them, the Illinois prairie was good, fine, and fertile. Those travelers for whom it proved dull or terrifyingly grand pushed onward or returned east.
To those who stayed, the prairieland here, under your very feet, was nurturance.
It’s hard for us to imagine, just as it was for those early travelers, what the prairie experience would be. We, like they, have no frame of reference. Woods and glens, fens and marshes: these we know because our forest preserve districts — for the most part — have examples of these. The experience is not "size-dependent." If you visit Palos Park’s McGinnis Slough you can still experience a wetland as it has existed for thousands of years. If you bike through Roy C. Blackwell Forest Preserve, you can still see the same oaks and maples. But to know a prairie — its utter expansiveness — requires sheer open space; open space that we in the Midwest are losing at a rapid pace.
Hold On to the Prairie Experience: Midewin
Jerry Heinrich, Vice President of the Midewin Alliance, drove over the railroad tracks without his foot even once shifting from the accelerator. About the best warning was a quick, "Hol’ on," in his central Illinois drawl as the sedan flew up and over the old track line in the former Joliet Arsenal land that is now to be part of the Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie (MNTP). Even after driving at what seemed illegal speeds for over half an hour, not all of the future prairie property could be seen.
"See that hill? That rise there?," Heinrich pointed out the front window to the left to a rounded, tree-topped mound. "That’s my favorite spot, right there. I climb up and look out, and then I can really picture what it’s all going to look like someday," he said. The western sunlight bathed the yet yellow grasses gold, and a sapphire sky seemed to open wide for the trees’ embrace. "We call it Harty’s Hill."
The Midewin is Fran Harty’s baby. Harty is what is termed an "unsung hero of heroes" when it comes to government officials who helped to turn an Army ammunitions plant into the first and only national tallgrass prairie park east of the Mississippi. Harty is a regional heritage administrator for the Department of Natural Resources whose knowledge of the bureaucratic process and low-key style make him a well-known and respected player for the "good team." Others include former U.S. Congressman George Sangmeister and Congressman Jerry Weller, Governor Jim Edgar, and Openlands Project executive director, Jerry Adelmann, who is described as "one of Chicago’s great environmental visionaries" by noted outdoor columnist, John Husar. Federal, Illinois, and Will County governments, environmental and even corporate organizations have joined forces to recreate the experience of our lost natural heritage.
It’s a heritage worth recreating.
According to an Illinois Natural Areas Inventory completed in 1978, only one-hundredth of one percent of high quality original prairie survives. Of that meager acreage, the scattered remnants are often less than one acre in size. That was twenty years ago. We Illinoisans have lost even more since then, with sprawl rates in Lake, McHenry, DuPage, and Will Counties being some of the highest in the nation. To imagine that Illinois, the "Prairie State," could become prairieless is...well...unimaginable. Just as early settlers could never dream of the existence of a prairie, we are now faced with the nightmare of its demise. Until, that is, the establishment of the MNTP.
Midewin: Let the Healing Begin
In 1993, the 23,500-acre Joliet Army Ammunition Plant 40 miles southwest of Chicago was declared excess federal land. The place where the "river ran red" with TNT was to be de-accessed. What to do with all that acreage became the center of political dealing. Under the leadership of Sangmeister, a Joliet Arsenal Citizen’s Planning Commission was formed to develop and adopt a reuse plan for the land.
The Federal government, Will County, and business, community, and environmental groups had high stakes in what would happen, and when they walked away from the table, each got something. Business and local community organizations got approximately 3000 acres for an industrial park, Will County was allotted 455 acres for a county landfill, and 980 acres were given to the federal government for the creation of the Abraham Lincoln National Veterans Cemetery.
The big winners, however, were proponents for the creation of a tallgrass prairie ecosystem. 19,165 acres were set aside to be managed open space, and on February 10, 1996 President Clinton signed the legislation. On March 10, 1997 the U.S. Army formally transferred 15,080 acres to the U.S. Department of Agriculture Forest Service, and now the Potawatomi word "midewin" — or "healing" — can be aptly applied to this expanse of land.
"The solitude that people experience here is key," said Adelmann. "You can really get a sense of what it must have been like, and what an opportunity we have," he said. "People have this idea that the contamination (from the ammunitions arsenal) is widespread, but it’s really concentrated," he said.
"There are sections that do need to be cleaned up, but when you look at the total acreage it isn’t really that much. The bulk of the property was actually more buffer area. Trees and grasses varied to create a diversity of texture and density for all sorts of birds and wildlife," Adelmann said.
As little as it may seem, part of the healing of the Midewin is, of course, the clean-up of TNT-tainted soils that still remain in that 1200-acre parcel. The U.S. Army can not legally transfer land that is contaminated, and is currently employing strategies to clean-up the soils. Two concerns are primary: that the land and water be cleaned up to a degree that is safe, and that the manner employed does not put the Midewin at risk. The Army has been receiving public commentary on clean up methods and timeframes for months. Bioremediation — the use of natural processes to breakdown the contaminants — is the method of land clean-up favored by many environmentalists, but it is slow. Developers and some labor unions who would benefit sooner from the industrial park are pushing for other methods that may not be as safe. Throw in to the mix some good ol’ local power plays from interested developer Transport Development Group (TDG), and the clean-up process becomes even more complex.
TDG, of course, is the company that wanted to build the largest landfill in the Midwest on the industrial park site back in January. Now, TDG has revoked the landfill plan at that location, but the possibility of a quarry and an incinerator still exist. The risk to an endangered dolomite prairie within Midewin is significant if a quarry is allowed. And the organization charged with overseeing compatible development for the industrial park, the Joliet Arsenal Development Authority, is under current investigation by the State for possible improprieties in prior dealings with TDG.
Keepers of the Prairie
So who keeps track of all these machinations? Enter the Midewin Alliance.
"We’re really the watchdogs here," said Heinrich. "We’ve got to keep an eye on it." The Alliance’s mission is to work with the U.S. Forest Service and the Illinois Department of Natural Resources to plan, develop, and maintain the MNTP. Members include conservation, environmental, and recreation groups as well as individuals. The purpose of the Alliance is to provide habitat for native plants and animals, and opportunities for compatible educational and recreational activities.
Right now the Alliance and the Midewin Partnership are in the process of drafting the Midewin Land and Resource Management Plan, which will be open to public input. After this strategic plan is available for comment, a formal Notice of Intent will be published, and the more formal management of the Midewin will begin.
"We’re really at a very significant point," said Adelmann. "[Despite] the diverse groups involved, there is a lot of consensus, much more than people would expect," he said. "It’s all marvelous! We’re just at chapter one, and we’re needing public input and involvement about what roles will be played. Really this is what will shape what the Midewin will be," he said.
The process of determining "what the Midewin will be" is not quick or simple, and that is a good thing. "It’s an open practice," said Heinrich. "You want to include as many people and organizations as possible because you don’t want to have someone think they’ve been ignored. It’s a very inclusive process."
After the draft management plan, the next step in determining the future of Midewin is the filing of the "Notice of Intent" as required by the National Environmental Policy Act. After that, an environmental assessment will be done, and another public comment period will be opened. Lastly, a final plan will be decided upon. Implementation of the management plan will then mark the next phase. The whole process should take about two years, according to Heinrich. After that, it will take decades to seed and create a viable prairie ecosystem that expands to the horizons. And then . . . you may actually see buffalo roam in Illinois again.
"What we’re trying to communicate here is that this is not a preservation project, but a restoration," said Heinrich. "We’re trying to restore our lost national heritage. When we were kids in school we read about prairies, but our teachings were somewhat skewed by this idea of pioneers looking at it as just a resource. We were never taught that it was an ecosystem. And that’s what we need to educate the public about" he said.
"The restoration of a major ecosystem is such that it suggests we must be good stewards," Adelmann said. "We must act to monitor, plant, and be vigilant. It is going to take years, but what we have to ask ourselves is‘What will Chicago be like without Midewin?"
"At the eastern edge of the Grand Prairie of Illinois: from there, north to Lake Michigan and west to the Mississippi, the prairies opened and broadened, sometimes spanning 50 miles without a tree to break the fabric of grassland," wrote nature writer Madson about what was once here but is now gone.
It’s up to us — you and me — to help recreate the Grand Prairie; if not for ourselves, then for our future. We do need to ask, "What will Chicago be like without any open space left to retreat to?" And when we have our answer, act on it.
You can contact the Midewin Tallgrass Prairie Alliance by calling 815-478-5125 or by writing the organization at P.O. Box 2026, Joliet, IL 60434. Visit their
web site. Volunteer opportunities are plentiful, from field workdays to office work. The Alliance’s number one goal is to recruit 600 new volunteers. Help them reach that. Make the contact that will make the Midewin.