Early Insight Into the Economic Value of Pathways

More than 15 years ago, just before Durham, North Carolina opened the first 3.2 miles of the American Tobacco Trail, part of a 186-mile trail system community-wide, health economists at the CDC were busy studying/quantifying any relationship to healthcare costs.

Back then, the cost of healthcare per capita as a percentage of America’s economy had multiplied to 14 times what it was in 1970, a few years before the CDC had first employed economists to study the decisions people make related to health.

It had doubled from a decade before and quadrupled since 1980.  Policy makers were desperate to find links to behavioral solutions.  Dr. Guijing Wang, a CDC economist, was leading a team investigating any possible cost benefit from trails.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) had been formed in 1946 in Atlanta after government scientists had so successfully curbed malaria in 13 southern states during WWII, especially around military training bases.

By 1950, while CDC researchers were testing early versions of a Polio vaccine, a disease then crippling 35,000 people a year, a remarkable insight occurred due west of the late President Roosevelt’s retreat in Warm Springs (he had been struck with the disease when he was age 39.)

Charlie Fraser, newly graduated from the University of Georgia, was walking the pines on Hilton Head Island in that southern most tip of South Carolina while working there one summer.

Before heading off to Yale Law School, he persuaded his father, who with his partners there had begun to timber the Island acquired the year before, to only selectively cut a strand near the southern shoreline for an even greater return.

His father, a National Guard General and veteran of both World Wars, agreed.  After practicing law and a stint in the Air Force, Charlie returned in 1955 with a master plan for a development.

His father’s banker-partners balked, so Charlie persuaded him to restructure the partnership and give him a note on the tip of the island.  Thus Sea Plantation was born, followed in 1970 by Hilton Head Plantation on the north end of the island.

In the fall of 2001, Charlie and his wife relocated to the Appalachian Mountains near Brevard, North Carolina, by the entrance to Pisgah National Forest, one of the first in the east.

It is possible he had read a study by the National Association of Realtors the year before validating his mid-1950s vision before a boat explosion took his life that December.

According to the survey, nearly 6-in-10 homebuyers would be more likely to purchase close to green space and pay more near a park or protected area, validating that Fraser made a good decision in setting aside a fourth in open space.

The survey  also showed that 25 times more people use pathway systems than golf, 10 times more than those who use swimming pools, and more than those using parks and playgrounds.

Prescient, Charlie had laced his developments with what he called “leisure ways,” away from roadways, and then encouraged other developers to follow his lead.  Eventually, a town was founded so it could pursue grants for more trails.

A few months after he was gone, CDC economists published their findings.  Every $1 in trail investment leads to $3 in reduced healthcare costs.

Charles Fraser would have smiled and nodded affirmative.  He had long argued that people came to the island much more for nature than golf.  His genius was an intrinsic grasp of how to nurture authenticity.

A sea change in public opinion was taking place as those studies quantifying the ROI from trails and pathways was released.  Between 2000 and 2008, surveys showed American homebuyer preferences for traditional, walk able neighborhoods tripled to 75%.

The 2013 Home Features Survey for the National Association of Realtors shows that nearly a third of potential homebuyers would pay more for a wooded lot with many trees, double the percentage seeking an open lot with few trees.

The percentage preferring trees is nearly the equal to those seeking a water view.  It is why in the late 1980s, a Durham developer supported a scenic overlay that the community placed over I-40 as it crosses through here, even though he sacrificed $2 million dollars at today’s values.

So why then have so many developers and policy makers seemed so eager to desecrate the things Charles Fraser understood were more valuable than gold?

Sunset Beach in North Carolina is another example dating back to the mid-1950s when Fraser shaped Sea Pines, but with the opposite outcome.

Sunset Beach development is laid out like many coastal areas were at the time.  Why did the coastal developers refuse, when it comes to nature, to let “well enough alone” as we say in the North Carolina?

Partly because they weren’t listening, and partly it was about money, but probably not what you think.

The line between North and South Carolina is being resurveyed.  There are best practices on both sides of the line with the nod until recently going to NC.

But when it comes to coastal developments, we have far too many that emulate the tangle of Myrtle Beach and not enough that emulate Fraser’s on Hilton Head Island.

By talking to coastal developers back then, Charlie Fraser learned what they would do differently.  Lining homes up shoulder to shoulder  destroyed the value of interior lots.

He also learned they would have left the land as natural as possible and set more aside in open space as well as instituted design guidelines, something those whining to our State Legislature today still haven’t learned.

Visionaries like Charlie Fraser inform their insight not from those who whine about the burdens of stewardship but by listening to those who complain about what they would have done differently.

Policy-makers are better advised to study an author who holds the Charles E. Fraser Chair on Sustainability and Environmental Policy at the Urban Land Institute such as his new book entitled Conservation Communities: Creating Value with Nature, Open Space, and Agriculture.

Maybe the difference in sensibilities among developers can be explained by two new exhibits under development at the 84-acre Museum of Life and Science in Durham.

Hideaway Woods will be a two-acre, forested learning environment with tree houses, a flowing streambed, and hollowed out tree trunks, where young people can do what people my age did every day around our homes but with their parents perched above them on an observation deck.

Nearby will be Earth Moves, a one-acre place where young people can blast away with high pressure hoses to create mini-landslides, use a conveyer to build huge mounds, dig with a backhoe, feel an earthquake and observe groundwater etc.

I know – it’s sad that kids now have go to a museums to have permission to do these things, but given obsessive helicopter parents, it’s  better there than not at all.

Such play not only broadens perspective but enhances essential workplace skills, something sports alone can’t provide.

It occurs to me though, that while some developers had a healthy mix of playscapes such as this, some apparently came away with too much time on what a forester friend of mine calls “mechanized assets.”

To make sure we raise more Charles Fraser’s we need to make “Hideaway Woods” a prerequisite for any time spent in “Earth Moves.”

It’s a good thing the museum has strategically ensured that kids come to “Hideaway Woods” first (smile.)

Never Underestimate The Power of Artifacts

Some really cool people are making the Museum of Durham History a reality.  But from the outset, a few have been petrified of being in the “artifact” business.

Granted I am an artifact junkie.  In my former career, I kidded unmercifully the now retired head of our local science museum for giving away a very cool 1942 DC-3 to another museum.

It had been purchased from the military by Western Airlines the year before I was born and then sold to Piedmont Airlines in North Carolina and flown as the Potomac Pacemaker from 1956, when I was the age of my grandsons now, until 1965 when I was a senior in high school.

During that span, the plane most certainly flew in and out of RDU International Airport which is co-owned by Durham, but through Raleigh subterfuge (see page 6), the other co-owner had the name  switched out of alphabetical order.

In fact, in the image below, that very well could be the Potomac Pacemaker sitting in front of the RDU terminal in the late 1950s.  Piedmont few in and out of RDU from the airline’s inception in 1948 when it was founded in Winston-Salem, NC.

When I was growing up, we either took livestock for auction to Bozeman or Idaho Falls which are very roughly equidistant from our ancestral ranch in the Yellowstone—Teton nook of Idaho.

When the choice was Idaho Falls, my paternal grandfather, who was born in 1888, loved to go out to the old airport that had been built there in the 1930s by the WPA and watch Western Air Express prop planes such as the DC-3 take off and land on routes from Montana to California.

A decade after it was retired, the Potomac Pacemaker was salvaged and then donated to the Durham-based NC Museum of Life & Science in 1978 by Durham-native Dillard Teer and his family.

The Teer family has been prominent in Durham now for 125 years, having built the Blue Ridge Parkway and many of the major roads in North Carolina.

They also owned and operated the Durham & Southern railway, built airfields around the world including RDU’s in 1939, developed Research Triangle Park here, and through several generations have served on the RDU Airport Authority.

The family carefully trucked the historic aircraft to the Durham museum where it was lovingly restored and mounted for display by former employees of Piedmont.

When I moved to Durham in June of 1989, I was intrigued by Piedmont Airlines which had been founded in North Carolina the year I was born, only to be gobbled up by US Airways three months after I arrived here.

To me, that made the Potomac Pacemaker mounted at the Museum of Life and Science a valuable visitor feature as well as a significant symbol of Durham’s history.

Of course, had it been retained instead of given away in 2004, it would be too large to be displayed inside what will eventually be a full-fledged Museum of Durham History, unless hung from a vaulted ceiling.

But the old DC-3 could have been mounted at the front entrance of the eventual local history museum as an icon, much as this Mercury Redstone Rocket does today for the Museum of Life and Science.

One only has to look at the front-page news about the recent reclamation of one of Durham’s 1949 fire trucks which will join two others, one from 1902 and another from 1935, in yet another mini-museum, to see how artifacts capture the public’s enthusiasm.

Maybe my friend, the former director, who parted ways with the Potomac Pacemaker is serving penance by being a driving force in retirement for a Museum of Durham History (smile.)

Instead, the Potomac Pacemaker is now in loving hands of volunteers again who are fully restoring it for display one day at the state Transportation Museum in Spencer, NC.

It was given away ten years ago as museums fell under the spell of interactive exhibits, especially for children.  But soon it became clear even to museums created during this span, that it is the genuine artifacts that garner the most attention and create a sense of awe.

It is both/and, never either/or.

By not wanting to be in the “artifact business,” I assume some who are laying the groundwork for the Museum of Durham History (now represented by a hub-avatar) probably fear that people like me will show up with their grandfather’s collection of old National Geographic magazines (smile.)

But museums don’t need to tie themselves down by vetting potential donations.  They could use trained volunteers or contract with entities that do that sort of thing.  We’ve all seen this vetting at work on TV shows such as Antique Roadshow, American Pickers or even Pawn Stars.

The primary importance of history museums, especially local history museums, is the telling of stories.  A recent essay posted by the Smithsonian explains why artifacts are so powerful, far more powerful than just photographs or videos:

• Artifacts tell their own stories.
• Artifacts connect people.
• Artifacts mean many things.
• Artifacts capture moments.
• Artifacts reflect changes.

The authors note that (paragraphing inserted for ease of reading):

“Artifacts are the touchstones that bring memories and meanings to life. They make history real. Moreover, it is a reality that can and should be viewed from different perspectives.

When museums choose not to enshrine and isolate an artifact but instead open it up to new interpretations and different points of view, they provide opportunities to challenge and enhance our understanding of the past.”

Anything but static, “consider each artifact with its many stories as holding diverse meanings for different people, past and present. Think of them as bits of contested history.”

The authors of the essay, National Museum of American History curator Kathleen Kendrick and Dr. Steven Lubar at Brown University, have written several books both together and separately about the legacies of artifacts and what is worth saving.

Because Durham officials have delayed what has for eight decades (half of Durham’s existence) been a top cultural priority among Durham residents as measured most recently during a cultural master planning process, thousands of invaluable artifacts have been dispersed around the world.

Many are in landfills, but many were hopefully plucked by collectors from garage and estate sales when distant decedents of Durham owners, ignorant of their significance, put them on sale or discarded them after cleaning out attics.

This means the Museum of Durham History, when finally fully enabled, will need to put out calls to collectors and pickers for invaluable but forgotten Durham heirlooms and hope they can at least be loaned to the museum.

One only has to watch and observe visitors to the three state historic sites in Durham (mini-museums) to see how significant artifacts are.  Each site has hidden away details on how to relocate hundreds more than they have room to put on display.

With each passing day, Durham loses more and more of its history.  For those still puzzled about why we should care, here are just a few reasons a Museum of Durham History, stocked with both artifacts and the latest technology, is crucial:

• Story Telling. It will give children, students, newcomers and relocating executives a place to get in touch with Durham’s story. People who grasp that stories are more inclined to be engaged as activists, volunteers and philanthropy.
• Synergy. It will augment Durham’s historic sites by providing exhibition space to stir interest in those locations, making them more sustainable. It will complement rather than undermine other cultural facilities and programming.
• Preservation. It will be a vigilant testimony to what makes the community distinct and unique and insulate its character and personality from the pressures of development and “generica.”
• Future Generations. As a repository of innovations and artifacts, it will inspire future generations to build on the temporal qualities that make Durham, well, Durham…creative, entrepreneurial, caring, innovative, accepting, etc.

My dad was notoriously unsentimental about artifacts but through the last few decades of his life he learned to ask me first before disposing of old equipment and memorabilia.

Unfortunately, this was too late to salvage tack from the ranch or my great-grandfather’s branding irons.

Never underestimate the power of artifacts.

The Origin Of Our Sense Of Place

Studies show that city parks and natural areas give children a “sense of rootedness” and “aesthetic value” and “place making” and “supports the development of sense of place and attachment.”

This may not fully explain why a few ringleaders in the current legislature seem so driven to sacrifice North Carolina’s sense of place.

But it does further illuminate what gives some communities such as Durham, where I live, such a strong sense of place and attachment which is closely linked to economic and cultural vitality and the ability to attract and retain talent and pursue visitor-centric cultural and economic development.

Experts note that if a genetic switch is not flipped in a child they evolve into adults without compassion.  Apparently nature-based outdoor activity flips the genetic switch for stewardship of sense of place.

I’m not surprised that consideration is being given to converting a larger portion of some Durham city parks, such as Rockwood which is down the hill from where I live, back to a natural state although it might be more than a bit disingenuous to neglect the turf and then when it is overtaken by weeds to presume it is no longer useful because no one plays on it.

Historic parks such as Rockwood and Forest Hills are incredibly beautiful and useful but tend to be challenging to maintain because developers typically donated the land in flood-prone lowlands as a means to slow, capture and  cleanse storm run-off.

Still before they were neglected these parks had been beautifully manicured.

My 80+ year old and still very active neighbor remembers when she and her husband bulldozed the street where I live to build their home overlooking the park in the years after World War II, the City of Durham had to be reminded that Rockwood Park was public property.

Rockwood is widely used by both neighboring residents and commuters because it is cool and heavily forested, perfect for family and group get-togethers with a great playground for small children.  But it is also popular for walking pets, exercise and reflection.

Just as I was retiring a few years ago, the head of Duke School, a private Pre-K-8 institution in Durham, Dave Michelman, penned a great blog summarizing the value of unstructured, make-believe play and discovery as a means to increase children’s “self regulation, discovery, wonder and creativity.”

Over parenting, including children sucked into the adult-driven ever hyper-active world of organized sports, is no substitute for what Michelman is wrote about.

Parents today are well-advised to adopt the Marine Corps “rule of threes” as a means to ensure sufficient unstructured time.

But studies about the importance of unstructured outdoor and especially nature-based activity have been lacking a “national baseline regarding children’s time outdoors and to determine what kids are doing or not doing outside, including factors that affect children’s activity choices.”

That was the purpose of incorporating a National Kids Survey into the rolling survey of Outdoor Recreation Trends And Futures (page 82.)  It turns out that 62.5% of children spend two hours or more outside on a weekday, 78.2% on a weekend which is more than many expected.

There are disturbing differences between girls and boys and ethnic and age groups, but overall 84% are just playing or hanging out while 49.8% are playing or practicing team sports.  This study notes that concerns about the shift away from nature-based activities is warranted.

Noted are studies supporting the fact that “direct play in nature is critical for youth cognitive and social development, especially during middle school years” as well as creativity, innovation and concrete skills such as way finding and an overarching sense of place.

More accessible and forested parks with a mix of nature area, well-maintained turf and playgrounds is part of the answer as are the quasi-unstructured exhibits such as those of the spectacular Museum of Life and Science in Durham.

The hugely popular museum is opening “Into The Mist” at the end of the month, its ninth outdoor exhibit which promises a “natural landscape where you can play, explore, and interact with the powerful forces and forms of the earth.”

But there is simply no substitute for time spent just exploring in the woods.

Among the most important factors, according to the study, is not only the emphasis on the unstructured and nature-based time children spend outdoors, but that parents are willing and able to spend time outdoors with their children!