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Crowning achievement. The
Linn Cove Viaduct was completed in 1987.
It was a combination of the
economic dreams of older men and the energetic visions
of younger men that put the building of the Blue Ridge
Parkway into motion back in the Great Depression.
Here, from one of the premier historians of the
"ribbon of highway," is a perspective on the
first 60 years.
TEXT BY HARLEY E.
JOLLEY AND PHOTO BY HUGH MORTON
In an ever-changing, fast-paced
world, each generation pauses to fulfill the
prediction of an ancient prophet: "Your old men
shall dream dreams, your young men shall see
visions."
The coming of the Great
Depression laid the foundations for its generation to
dream dreams and see visions. And, as strange as it
may seem, one of the magnificent by-products was the
Blue Ridge Parkway, now celebrating its 60th
anniversary.
By the early 1930s millions of
unemployed Americans were plagued by all the evils
which accompany unrelenting economic depressions. To
alleviate that suffering, old political men conjured
up dreams of antidotes. Aided by the vision of
talented young landscape architects, they devised a
make-work program which would utilize $16 million of
federal relief money to build a scenic highway
connecting the newly established Shenandoah National
Park and its twin sister, the Great Smoky Mountain
National Park. The project was to employ thousands of
needy mountaineers for a period of two years, with
Virginia, North Carolina and Tennessee sharing
mileage. And recent New Deal legislation had provided
funds for relief projects such as "construction
of park ways."
Previous dreamers had, just
prior to World War I, proposed a privately constructed
toll road called "Crest of the Blue Ridge
Highway," running from near Wytheville, Va. to
near Atlanta, Ga. That dream failed but another
emerged in New York City which was to shape the
destiny of what is now the Blue Ridge Parkway: The
Westchester County (New York) Park System pioneered an
urban renewal program which also incorporated
elaborate, wonderfully designed parks, beaches, golf
courses and parkways.
But in the meantime, by
September 1933, rumors of a federal highway through
the Appalachian Blue Ridge country launched a whole
new set of dreams. Asheville, in western North
Carolina, and Knoxville, in eastern Tennessee,
became political dynamos supporting the proposed road,
realizing that it would funnel thousands of travelers
and millions of dollars into any city hosting it.
Their eagerness to be that host
sparked one of the most intense lobbying efforts the
Blue Ridge Mountains had ever seen.
The final decision was left up
to Harold L. Ickes, Secretary of the Interior and
administrator of relief funds. After intense
consideration he, to the great dismay of Tennessee,
sided with North Carolina, establishing the route now
traveled, stipulating that if North Carolina and
Virginia would purchase and donate the right of way,
the federal government would build and maintain a
parkway under the auspices of the National Park
Service.
This insured that another
visionary's guidelines would be utilized to construct
the parkway. When the first national park,
Yellowstone, was being developed, its roads
administrator issued a three point decree saying
"A proper road should:
- 1. lie easily on the ground
- 2. blend harmoniously with
the topography
- 3. appear as if it had grown
out of the soil."
Thus, when young Stanley W. Abbott
was appointed resident landscape architect for the new
park-to-park road, he came equipped with excellent
training from Cornell University plus superb hands-on
learning acquired at the Westchester County programs.
And with unsung visionary Tom Vint, National Park
Service chief landscape architect, overseeing, Abbott
- still in his 20s - applied diverse skills to convert
470 miles of hodge-podge mountain land into the
nation's most famous rural national parkway,
conforming to "a proper road's" guidelines
and his own dream of a great American rural-life
museum. And to fulfill the road's make-work mission he
utilized an army of relief workers, including Civilian
Conservation Corps enrollees, conscientious objectors
and public contractor laborers.
Drawing repeatedly upon lessons
learned in Westchester County, and using numerous
landscape architects recruited from that project, he
designed not only a parkway but a total recreation
program, incorporating visitor centers, hiking trails,
lodges, campgrounds, milepost markers, interpretive
programs, visitor services and lodges into a series of
"parks" interspersed strategically along the
route. For those parks Abbott decreed that, "they
must possess versatility and beauty - like beads on a
string they must become the rare gems in the
necklace."
Many "dreamers" played
roles in initiating and developing the parkway.
Virginia's Senator Harry F. Byrd provided the
catalytic energy which launched the idea. North
Carolina's Congressman Robert L. Doughton made the
parkway his special concern and for years secured the
funding which eventually built the parkway despite the
objections of numerous politicians, including the
northerner who ridiculed the parkway as a boondoggle,
"a most visionary thing." And among the
visionaries, North Carolina's chief right-of-way
engineer, R. Betty Browning, was one of the brightest.
He is generally credited with convincing Ickes that
the North Carolina route was the "proper
road."
In reality, however, many
dreamers and visionaries have for 60 years provided
the impetus initiating, designing and building the
parkway. Little did the original dreamers realize that
it would take 50 years from the time the first
construction shovel dug in, September 11, 1935, to
complete their "two-year" project. But
despite some first-class brouhahas over route
selections, section by section the great scenic road
was completed, with the famed Linn Cove Viaduct
providing the final link. Truly, as an Indian preacher
said in his prayer of dedication for the Cherokee
section, this "is a road of peace" and we
joyfully celebrate its 60th anniversary, with
appreciative thanks to its many dreamers and
visionaries. |