A Conversation with Ellen Apperson Brown
California had John Muir. New York had John Apperson. Inspired by the valiant battle Muir fought to defeat the damming of the Yosemite Valley at Hetch Hetchy, Apperson became one of our earliest and most effective advocates for wilderness.
Apperson came to Schenectady from Virginia in 1900, five years after New York State wrote into its constitution the "Forever Wild" clause, which states that, "The lands of the state, now owned or hereafter acquired, constituting the forest preserve as now fixed by law, shall be forever kept as wild forest lands. They shall not be leased, sold or exchanged, or taken by any corporation, public or private, nor shall the timber thereon be sold, removed or destroyed.” The "Forever Wild" clause is a tool that no other state has ever had. It was a powerful clause in the New York State Constitution that Apperson held up and fought for. "Forever Wild" became the guiding purpose in his life. In the fights he led and techniques of public persuasion he adopted, Apperson left us a great legacy in both the land and the law.
For as long as I can remember, Lake George has been a meaningful place in my life. Years ago I became aware that Apperson had helped to preserve some key features of the lake, but as I researched him and continued to learn more, I discovered just how important he was to the whole lake and the region. I became interested in John Apperson and his story because of my appreciation for the many ways in which he has protected Lake George for future generations. Over the last couple of years, I’ve been researching Apperson, reading many of his letters, and viewing the photographs he took.
I've been fortunate in this effort to connect with Ellen Apperson Brown, who knows her great uncle's story better than anyone else. She writes, "In 1987, I found a trunk of letters and photographs that had been passed on to me, and realized what a treasure trove of information it contained...It made me wonder: What did Uncle John do? How did he do it?" For 30 years, Ellen Apperson Brown has been painstakingly researching "Appy's" life and contributions to Lake George and the Adirondacks. She's earned multiple Master's degrees including one in history, and wrote John Apperson's Lake George. She continues to work on a larger biography about Apperson and has more than 1,000 of his letters fully searchable on her website AdirondackActivism.com.
Who was John Apperson?
Uncle John was born in a little town in southwest Virginia. His mother died when he was nine. He just roamed around and was most comfortable being outdoors, being on his own, exploring, and finding friends to keep him company.At 17, he was a surveyor with the Marion & Rye Valley Railroad in Virginia. That tells us a lot. At that young age he was mastering all of the engineering one needs to become a surveyor, and had the confidence to manage hundreds of men.
At the turn of the century, Schenectady was the Silicon Valley of its time, thanks largely to Thomas Edison. The prospect of a job at General Electric is what drew Apperson there. By 1915, he was giving speeches at the Constitutional Convention in Albany, standing up for what he felt so strongly about. He was opposed to the state's leasing of campsites in the Forest Preserve because he knew that for-profit businesses would start owning parts of the forest and doing the wrong thing. Over his career, he won great acclaim saving the "Forever Wild" clause.
Apperson never married. While he had several female friends who were neighbors in Huddle Bay and Turtle Bay, he especially enjoyed the friendly hospitality (and home cooked meals) offered by Florence and Kilgore Christie, who purchased the old hotel annex in 1928.
Apperson lived in a boarding house up until about 1928, when he purchased his own home at 1079 Teviot Road, where he enjoyed having more space for all his cameras, papers, and even a sewing machine. He held work sessions with friends at Teviot Road just as he did in the boarding house, making skate sails and sleeping bags, but more importantly, sharing the latest news about politics and planning strategic political battles.
Almy Coggeshall recalls visiting Apperson's home in the 1930s and marveling at the animated discussion he was leading with a focus on the latest political news, and his handing out of assignments. Appy soon had Almy heading into the Adirondack Park with a camera to document the illegal logging that was taking place. Almy also became an important leader in the movement, carrying on Appy's methodology.
Please tell us about your relationship with Apperson and your visits to Huddle Bay on Lake George.
I was born in Schenectady and my family spent plenty of time at Lake George. We left Schenectady when I was about five, moving first to Erie, Pennsylvania, and then south to Charlotte, North Carolina. We missed seeing Uncle John and could only make long road trips for a week or two each summer. My childhood memories are of these driving trips up to the lake, and the magical experience of waking up in the upper story of the main camp, hearing the water lapping, and getting to go out in the canoe. I remember being brave and going out into the little cove that we called Tadpole Bay to go swimming. I learned how to prepare meals over a wood stove. I remember the rituals we learned, such as the proper way to wash dishes, using scalding hot water and Ivory Snow (a mild detergent), then dumping out the water far away from the lake.
Please describe the "Schenectady Force" and Apperson's role in establishing and developing it.
I never heard that term until I was reading a book by Frank Graham, The Adirondack Park: A Political History. He referred to all of the political activity that was going on with conservationists in the area as the "Schenectady Force". They were all very active in trying to fight different legal battles.
Apperson started out by getting a lot of his friends around Schenectady to just go out on excursions, have adventures, and try canoeing, hiking, skiing, skate sailing ––– everything possible. It was so spectacular! Just a group of good friends who wanted to do good things to help save properties that were threatened, and to help get out the word about saving them.
What's really interesting is that Apperson didn't try to create the structure of a nonprofit organization that has its executive director, a secretary, and staff. Instead, he was the CEO unpaid, and he and his contacts could act instantly when a senator like Ellwood Rabenold would tell him that they're planning to build a highway. The "Schenectady Force" was this powerful thing that you couldn't quite quantify and, believe me, Apperson's opponents were angry. It was terrible to confront because they couldn't just go storming into the office and talk to the executive director. It was hard to pin down.
Please tell us about Irving Langmuir and his role in the movement.
Irving Langmuir, who went on to win the Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 1932, happened to be extremely enthusiastic about planning excursions in the high peaks, including hiking in winter to the top of Mount Marcy –– on skis! Apperson and Langmuir enjoyed the outdoors together, and they also had a lot in common with how to address all of these political problems they were confronted with.
The International Paper Company posed a major environmental threat because they were raising and lowering the waters of Lake George with no regard for the erosion and damage that was being done to the islands and to the shorelines. What they were doing was illegal and Apperson fought them on it with Langmuir’s help. They joined a lawsuit against the International Paper Company that lasted 15 years.
Later on, Apperson decided to buy Dome Island, on Lake George, when he saw that trees had been marked for removal for the construction of a hotel. Apperson was able to turn to Langmuir to get about half of the money, and then they were able to purchase it.
Please describe Apperson's relationships with Paul and Vincent Schaefer.
Paul Schaefer discovered Apperson during the battles that were going on in 1930 and 1931. One was the Hewitt Reforestation Amendment. The other was the Closed Cabin Amendment. Schaefer had entered that battle as a member of the Adirondack Mountain Club. He was starting his own hiking club because he was so angry with the leadership at the Adirondack Mountain Club at the time. That's when he was introduced to Apperson.
They wrote several letters before Paul came by Apperson's house on Teviot Road. He was just amazed with all the things that Apperson was doing and all the projects he had underway and realized that this was going to be a connection that would be important for him. He wanted to help, so Apperson was able to give an assignment to Paul, including one which had him go and take pictures in the high peaks. That's when he happened to run into Bob Marshall.
It's kind of neat, all these people connected. Paul Schaefer’s brother, Vincent, would often come to Huddle Bay because he worked for Langmuir in the lab, even though he didn't have the advanced degrees. He was a genius, and in a way, Langmuir recognized that.
John Apperson played a major role in the expansion of the Adirondack Park. Will you describe that for us?
When Apperson arrived in Schenectady and discovered Lake George, he must have immediately wondered: Why is this lake –– the most beautiful in the world –– not included in the Adirondack Park?
Apperson knew Franklin Delano Roosevelt really well. He knew Governor Al Smith. He knew about their political struggles with each other. He knew that FDR wanted to be governor of New York and wanted to continue to run and be president. To get the popular vote, FDR knew he had to convince everybody that he was in favor of recreation and that he was not going to put the brakes on expanding the Adirondack Park. Apperson did his work behind the scenes. When Roosevelt expanded the park with an executive order in 1931, the state was empowered to buy and protect more land on both sides of Lake George, including Tongue Mountain and Black Mountain Point. It's largely because of Apperson's work that these tracts are now part of the Forest Preserve.
Robert Moses had a plan to build a road around the edge of Tongue Mountain, but Apperson defeated it. How?
In 1923, Apperson was in an all-out effort to create a Lake George Park. The first big chapter of that effort would be to make sure that a road wasn’t constructed on Tongue Mountain.
In response to the proposed legislation, Apperson organized a boat trip on the lake for important dignitaries from Albany. His friend and a wealthy philanthropist from St. Louis, William K. Bixby, allowed him the use of his boat, and they took about a dozen people out for a wonderful ride on a pretty day in the summer to enjoy the scenery.
When they got close to Tongue Mountain, Apperson pointed to its steep slopes and spelled out all of the reasons why Moses' proposal to build a parkway there was a bad idea. He was an engineer who had all of the numbers, so he knew what he was talking about.
Governor Al Smith realized the plan was silly. Moses apparently stepped up at that point to say he had another plan. In that moment, Apperson won.
Over the years, Apperson and Moses would continue to interact politely through correspondence and never have an all-out, angry word but, I guarantee you, they both knew who their opponent was. They had an ongoing war. Apperson was taking on the entire department of what we know as the Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) today.
Paul Schaefer and John Apperson were both involved in the discussion about the best route for the Northway, but they saw it differently. How so?
Schaefer was always like a student of Apperson’s, the next generation to him. Apperson could ask Schaefer to take on an assignment right away, knowing that he would do a good job.
Meanwhile, Apperson was still at the center of everything, calling the shots, trying to do things. However, Apperson was focusing mostly on Lake George. He had his own organizations. One was called the Forest Preserve Association, and Langmuir was a big part of that.
Paul was not really central to this group. He started Friends of the Forest Preserve, which drove a sort of wedge between them.
At some point before Apperson died, probably by about 1957, he was aware that he had little ability to control how things turned out in the fight over the route for the Northway. He began to realize that he was not winning. He was not getting his point of view across to everybody. I think he realized that Paul Schaefer was having more of an influence.
I don't think there was anything really ugly that happened between them, but it's kind of sad that Apperson had a protégé he handed lots of projects to, and then realized that he had to accept the fact that things would not always go the way he wanted them to.
It's a very complicated story. Apperson would have been full of praise for Schaefer, but at the same time he would be grinding his teeth at some of the things his favorite student was doing.
In 1996, a few months before Paul died, I was in Schenectady to hear Paul make a wonderful speech about how he owed everything to John Apperson. So there wasn't bad blood between them, but I think it was only inevitable that after trying to keep control of myriad different initiatives and groups of people and individuals, Apperson began to get tired and wasn't able to keep it up through the end of his life.
What did John Apperson do at GE?
Apperson became an engineer officially in 1904 and was one of the team leaders in the Power and Mining Department of GE. He had three or four engineers working under him, even as early as 1904 or 1905. In 1922, Appy was called into the office of the chief executive, Francis. C. Pratt, and was told that his services were no longer needed in the Power and Mining Engineering Department. Apperson wrote to his immediate boss, David B. Rushmore, telling him what had happened, and also providing him with a copy of a "memorandum" that Appy wrote for his official files, describing what happened. After carefully reading through many documents, I believe that someone at Lake George may have complained about Apperson and taken the complaint all the way to the top of GE.
Apperson and his immediate boss, Rushmore, had been having problems with other top engineers at GE, and there was an effort underway to reorganize the Power and Mining Department and bring it under new leadership. (This was an internal conflict that had nothing to do with Apperson's activities at Lake George.) However, Pratt, the CEO, was hearing bad things from outsiders (perhaps stockholders of GE, or those who had investments in the International Paper Company) and they made a concerted effort to discredit Apperson and even managed to have Rushmore "promoted" to consulting engineer.
Apperson got plenty of moral support and encouragement from his fellow engineers –– in fact they gave him a beautiful painting of Huddle Bay, and made speeches about how much they appreciated all that he had done for the Power and Mining department. Irving Langmuir would have had many opportunities to speak up on behalf of Apperson, as did many of the higher-ups. It is even possible that Charles Steinmetz put in a good word. About six months later, he was introduced to a new position in what they called Engineering General. He was again handling all the contracts and all the management of the details. It was a big job.
The lasting effect, however, was that Apperson learned that it was always possible that his political enemies (those who were determined to do logging and development, etc.) might be able to wield bad influence against him at GE. It forced him to find ways to keep a low profile and not try to call attention to his name. It forced him to build a network of loyal protégés who would spread the word and twist arms on his behalf. That is one reason he came to rely on writing letters and saving copies, so that he could work quietly, but effectively, behind the scenes.
A senior at Newark Academy in New Jersey, Noah comes to Lake George with his family every summer. He enjoys visiting the lake's many islands and learning local folklore. He plays various instruments and is the lead alto saxophone in a jazz band.