 
Moab's "Empty Garden"
- I found an empty garden among the flagstones there
- Who lived here
- He must have been a gardener that cared a lot
- Who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop
- And now it all looks strange
- It's funny how one insect can damage so much grain
(A song by Elton John)
In March 2012, Grand County, Utah 
received funding from the National Park Service "Connect Trails to  
Parks" program for projects to enhance the Moab Lions Park  Transit and Trail  Hub. Over the previous four years, individuals from Grand County, Moab City,  NPS, BLM, the Lions Club,  Trail Mix, and the  Moab Trails Alliance
 had  collaborated to develop Lions Park as a trail and transportation 
hub. The  various groups worked with a consultant hired using the NPS 
grant monies. The ground breaking
 for the Transit Hub was in September 2012. As planned, the hub would 
include interpretive and trail signs, all to be installed during 2014.
Transit and Trail  Hub. Over the previous four years, individuals from Grand County, Moab City,  NPS, BLM, the Lions Club,  Trail Mix, and the  Moab Trails Alliance
 had  collaborated to develop Lions Park as a trail and transportation 
hub. The  various groups worked with a consultant hired using the NPS 
grant monies. The ground breaking
 for the Transit Hub was in September 2012. As planned, the hub would 
include interpretive and trail signs, all to be installed during 2014.
Starting with new energy applied by the Moab Lions Club in the 1970s and
 1980s, public, private and  nonprofit agencies and individuals poured 
countless hours into planning  “Lions Park: Gateway to Moab”.  By April 
2015, the new Lions Transit Hub was in operation just across State Route
 128 from the old Lions Club Park.  Decades of  planning and 
construction around the old park were almost complete. Careful 
redevelopment of the  quaint but aging Moab Lions Park was all that 
remained undone.
 Unfortunately,
 a successful outcome for Lions Park was not to be. Before lunchtime on 
 March 31, 2015, an ill informed demolition crew erased one hundred 
sixty years of  history at the  birthplace of Moab, Utah. Working from faulty plans, uninformed  contractors used mechanized equipment to  bulldoze every visible remnant of what  once was Lions Park.
Unfortunately,
 a successful outcome for Lions Park was not to be. Before lunchtime on 
 March 31, 2015, an ill informed demolition crew erased one hundred 
sixty years of  history at the  birthplace of Moab, Utah. Working from faulty plans, uninformed  contractors used mechanized equipment to  bulldoze every visible remnant of what  once was Lions Park.
Gone from the site were the stately  Fremont Cottonwood  trees whose ancestors once shaded the  1855 Elk Mountain Mission,  and later shaded twentieth century picnickers. Gone were the  familiar parking lot, walkways,  picnic areas
 and water fountains. Gone was any trace of  Moab Lions Club work 
performed over most of the late twentieth century. Gone from the 
southern  terminus of State Route 128 were the classic wooden highway 
signs that once  pointed the way to  Arches National Park and  Dead Horse Point State Park.
“Even after all that effort,  it just went amok,”
 Community Development Director Dave Olsen said. According to  Olsen's 
estimates, some of the eight trees were 80 to 100 years old, and perhaps
  even older. It is possible that several of those eight trees shaded 
the 1855 Elk Mountain Mission  during their first days in Moab.
The Utah Division of Facilities Construction and Management, The 
Archiplex Group  and Advance Solutions Group accepted responsibility for
 the mistake and plan to  make up for it, Utah Department of 
Administrative Services Public Information  Officer Marilee Richins 
said. “Everybody is joining together,” she said. “We  just want to make 
it right. It's just an unfortunate situation.”
Acting Moab City Engineer Eric Johanson said, “We don't want to be  blamed  unjustifiably.” 
Both Olsen and Johanson said that the demolition plans were  missing a “tree-protection layer”.
 “We were shocked, because for years, we've  been meeting with the 
architects and engineers”, Johanson said. “Everyone is  very  aggrieved,” he added. “It saddens everyone.”
“Ultimately, we thought that given the complexity, it should have at least  elicited  a phone call to the architect or the city before they started cutting  everything down,” Johanson said. “It is a park, after all.”
“The damage was done  before we could stop it,” said Olsen, who also serves as the city's arborist.
Almost
 immediately, Olsen switched gears and denigrated the recently removed  
trees. “Although stately Fremont cottonwoods are native to Utah and much
 of the  West,” Olsen said, “they aren't the best choice for the site. 
To me, Fremonts  are  rickety".
 Their loose limbs also pose potential hazards in recreational park  
settings, he said; especially if they are situated above benches, picnic
 tables,  playground areas and other “targets.”
Did arborist Olsen ever  consider providing drip irrigation, pest control or tree pruning at Lions Park? The United States Congress established Zion as a National Park in Utah on November 19, 1919. Many Fremont Cottonwoods standing throughout Zion Canyon predate the 1925 establishment of  Zion National Park Lodge. In Abraham Lincoln's parlance, that would have been "four score and ten years ago".
After inspecting the collection of dehydrating cottonwood stumps, Olsen 
continued  his assault on the concept of replanting native trees at 
Lions Park. Almost  immediately, Olsen  found signs of decay, including 
hollowed-out trunks.  “They have a substantial amount of rot,” he said. 
“Termites and carpenter ants  have been doing their job to decompose 
them over time.”
Drought and neglect had taken their toll as well, yet the majestic 
Fremont Cottonwoods shook off decay, hosting carpenter ants and termites
 in a symbiotic relationship that lasted more than four score and seven years.
 Turning the whole episode into a lesson in public safety, Olsen told the press that it would have been just a matter of time before he made a recommendation to  remove the trees. Then, resorting to bureaucratic “double speak”,
 Olsen said  that he would not have given permission to remove the trees
 now, within three  months of the park's grand reopening.
Turning the whole episode into a lesson in public safety, Olsen told the press that it would have been just a matter of time before he made a recommendation to  remove the trees. Then, resorting to bureaucratic “double speak”,
 Olsen said  that he would not have given permission to remove the trees
 now, within three  months of the park's grand reopening.
Despite the danger that the old Fremont  Cottonwood trees might pose to 
the public, Olsen would allow  park visitors to picnic beneath them for 
an indefinite time into the  future. As Moab's arborist, it was Olsen's 
duty to inspect and determine any future risk that the existing trees 
might represent. Only in post mortem did he fulfill that task.
Continuing with his anti-native tree theme, Olsen said that he would like to  replant  the new Lions Park with a combination of  Bur oaks and  Austrian pines. At the park, which by then looked like an  extension of the nearby  Moab Pile, Olsen said, “We wanted to make sure that it looked like a park, and not  a  barren desert".
“When we have our grand opening, we're probably  going to roast in the sun like bacon,” Olsen remarked.
Once upon a time, people thought  that Tamarisk  (salt cedar) trees would make a nice frontage to the Colorado River in Moab. For  the past twenty-five years, 
 volunteers and government organizations have  struggled to eliminate that ubiquitous
 and invasive tree species. Before any Lions  Park taskforce  approves 
replanting with non-native species, I hope that the powers that be in 
Moab will pause long enough to complete their due diligence.
volunteers and government organizations have  struggled to eliminate that ubiquitous
 and invasive tree species. Before any Lions  Park taskforce  approves 
replanting with non-native species, I hope that the powers that be in 
Moab will pause long enough to complete their due diligence.
I pose the question, "What is the potential for Bur
 Oaks and  Austrian Pines to become invasive species downstream, along 
the Colorado River? In the  future, will Bur Oaks propagate and dominate
 the tree hierarchy in the soon to  be  re-exposed Glen Canyon?
Replanting Lions Park with Fremont 
Cottonwood trees and then nurturing them in perpetuity is the right 
thing to do. By replanting with Fremont Cottonwood trees, future 
generations will have the benefit of watching Lions Park once again 
become what it once was. In the year 2102, four score and seven years 
hence, Lions Park may well be back to where it was before its 2015 
destruction. I am sorry to say that unless I live to be 154 years old, I
 will not be present there in person to celebrate. I will, however, be there in spirit.
 In
 2008, when the new Riverway Bridge opened nearby, I visited Lions Park 
and  photographed a few historical features around the site. Most 
interesting to me was a  masonry and wooden sign that faced out toward 
the intersection of U.S. Highway  191 and State Route 128. Lovingly hewn
 from Navajo Sandstone, its  masonry structure was built to last for eons. Against its dark brown  background, the word “MOAB” stood out proudly in white block letters. Below, the  fading text told the story of Moab, from prehistory right up to the 1980s. This  original Moab sign's first internet appearance was on MoabJim.com, as a photographic print for sale. Later, I included the Moab  sign in one of my  blog articles.
In
 2008, when the new Riverway Bridge opened nearby, I visited Lions Park 
and  photographed a few historical features around the site. Most 
interesting to me was a  masonry and wooden sign that faced out toward 
the intersection of U.S. Highway  191 and State Route 128. Lovingly hewn
 from Navajo Sandstone, its  masonry structure was built to last for eons. Against its dark brown  background, the word “MOAB” stood out proudly in white block letters. Below, the  fading text told the story of Moab, from prehistory right up to the 1980s. This  original Moab sign's first internet appearance was on MoabJim.com, as a photographic print for sale. Later, I included the Moab  sign in one of my  blog articles. 
Each year, from 2008 to 2015, I 
revisited the site and photographed what I  dubbed the “MOAB Sign”. As 
with most signs that face south in the desert, the white lettering  weathered and flaked off a bit more each year. Behind the sign, trucks,
 trailers, paving equipment and cranes that serviced bridge, road and 
facilities construction came and went. Since 2008,  there had been 
nonstop construction within a 
quarter mile of the MOAB  Sign. By 2011, the historical text on the MOAB
 Sign was flaking away. So too was the physical history of the old Lions
 Club Park. In late 2014, the flaking word “MOAB”  still clung to the 
upper face of the sign. 
While
 on a photographic mission to Lions Park in August 2013, I discovered 
that  something was missing from the area. As it turned out, all  of the
 historical highway signs that once stood at the corner of State  Route 
128 and U.S. Highway 191 North were gone. Searching around the 
construction area, I found some grim remains.
With complete disregard for Moab history, all of the old highway directional signs had  been ripped out of the ground and dropped like so much  scrap metal and plywood. As a preview of what might someday  happen, that  scrap pile was partially hidden behind the original “MOAB Sign”.  Perhaps the myriad consulting companies involved at Lions  Park should have provided a "Sign  Protection Layer" on their plans.
In
 April 2015, I visited the Lions Park and Transit Hub. Construction 
equipment and supplies still covered the historical birthplace of Moab. 
The equipment  blocked my view
 of  the old park, which was at a lower elevation, near the riverbank. 
Not until I read later news reports did I realize that Lions Club Park  
was already gone.
To have bulldozed and scraped away every concrete block and tree from the  old park  was not enough.  As their last act of publically sanctioned  vandalism, the destroyers of old Lions Club Park surreptitiously toppled and  removed the original “MOAB  Sign”.
As the old monument crumbled to the ground, Moab  closed one hundred 
sixty years of current-era history  at the "Jumping off Place". To 
future visitors of the Moab Transit Hub,  interpretive signs and faded 
photos will be their only link to a shady oasis  that once flourished in
 Moab, by the bank of the Colorado River.
 As of this  writing,  Google Street View
  still shows a 2012 view of the intersection at State Route 128 and 
U.S. Highway 191  North. If you look closely at the linked image, you 
will see the original MOAB Sign. In the future, a  Google camera-car will autonomously drive through that intersection,  uploading digital images as it goes.
As of this  writing,  Google Street View
  still shows a 2012 view of the intersection at State Route 128 and 
U.S. Highway 191  North. If you look closely at the linked image, you 
will see the original MOAB Sign. In the future, a  Google camera-car will autonomously drive through that intersection,  uploading digital images as it goes.
Someday, Google will replace their old  images with the new ones. On that date uncertain, the original  MOAB Sign and historical Lions Club Park will exit three dimensional time-space reality (3DTSR), henceforth living only in memory.
This is Part 2 of a two-part article. To read Part 1, click HERE.
                           
By James McGillis at 03:36 PM | | Comments (0) | Link

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