WORLDFIRE - Chapter 10, Part II
Imagine a Green Industrial Revolution
Nearing Springfield, I spotted a huge coal plant with giant smoke stacks towering over the shores of Lake Springfield and wanted to get closer to take a picture. On the way, I was flagged down by members of Brownie Troop #6152 from Rochester, Illinois, filing down the sidewalk. They were excited to get a group picture after learning about my mission. I also encountered Springfield resident, Ric Mari, who told me how, decades ago, the California community he was living in was going solar, then suddenly wasn’t. What happened, Ric wondered? “We seem to be going backwards, and we need to teach our children to move forward so that we can all live here a little longer without sucking her dry,” he told me. “So what he’s doing is righteous and we all need to do something. You know, maybe go out and spend a little money and get some solar packs, get some batteries and learn how to do it yourself.”
What happened is the Reagan revolution. After his election in 1980, President Ronald Reagan had the solar panels symbolically removed from the roof of the White House as part of his administration’s assault on renewables and the natural world. Two years prior to that, a report issued by President Carter’s Council on Environmental Quality asserted: “A national goal of providing significantly more than half of our energy from solar sources by the year 2020 should be achievable if our commitment to that goal and to energy conservation is strong.” I actually referenced this goal in a term paper I wrote in high school called, “The Sun Our Star.” I discovered the term paper in one of many boxes of my belongings, all of which I luckily sorted through during the slow time of Covid, as they would all later burn in Colorado’s Marshall Fire. Even in high school, I was writing about the promise of the “birth of a new era” and a resurrection of the “American creative spirit.” That’s how long I have been waiting for the solar revolution to arrive.
Still determined to get a shot of the coal plant, I pedaled down a residential street that only led me to a dead end, forcing a long backtrack to a second street that got me closer, but I still couldn’t get a clear shot with all the houses blocking the view. It was then that I spied a couple working in their front yard, with Journey blasting on the radio. I rolled up to introduce myself and asked if they would mind if I took a picture of the plant from their lakeside backyard. After hearing why I wanted it, Tom Hnizdo (yes, another Tom) and Terri Dickson-Hnizdo said, “Sure.”
Photo in hand, I was preparing to leave when they asked me where I was spending the night. When I said I didn’t know, Tom and Terri surprised me by offering up their guest suite, an offer I gratefully accepted. 46 miles from where I started the day, I was soon sitting on their back deck, enjoying a delicious BBQ dinner. In an ironic twist, Tom and I talked about his former job as a Wyoming coal miner, as the Dallman coal plant’s giant smokestacks belched out polluting emissions not 200 yards across the lake. Tom’s stories on what it was like mining underground were really spooky and otherworldly. This unlikeliest of encounters reminded me of just what a mystery life is, made all the more wonderful when you meet kind souls like Tom and Terri. I hope to visit them again someday when the coal plant in their backyard stands idle as a monument to how we used to do things in America.
Since they both worked early, I had the house to myself (along with their three cats and dog) to get some work done. I spent the morning in my room with a view of a coal plant uploading videos to my website before reviewing a video of then U.S. Senator Barack Obama’s 2007 speech in Springfield announcing his run for president. I jotted down some notes in preparation for a short speech I planned to make myself. My purpose in diverting so far from my route to visit Springfield was to produce a video there reminding the president of his lofty campaign promises.
When I entered the garage to retrieve my rocket trike, I was delighted to find a balloon figure of a Harley rider sitting on the seat of the trike. With my inflated figurine serving as my wingman, I pedaled into Springfield in search of the Old Capitol building. There I found the spot where Barack Obama gave his historic announcement speech. Disappointed to find the grounds closed, I decided to film the video outside the gate. Reading off of notes I had hastily penned that morning, I made an appeal to the president to follow through on the bold and inspiring proclamations he made that day, citing the Apollo program. Here is the heart of what I said:
I felt it was important to come here and remind you of how you inspired so many people with your words on that day that you announced for president, and to appeal to you to get back to that… you said, Mr. President, that you ran to transform a nation and that we need to make good, that it’s time for our generation to make good on the debt we owe past and future generations. I could not agree more with that. That is incredibly profound and true. So my question is, what happened? You were fired up. The country was fired up. We were ready for real change. We’ve gotten incremental change. Your run for president was audacious. And you did it. I’m calling for an audacious goal for America, a 100 percent renewable electricity grid by the year 2020, a green energy moon shot for our generation. I know that’s audacious, but we can do it. This is America, and in America, we do great things. So I’m asking you, Mr. President... I’ll be in DC in a few weeks… I’d really like to sit down with you and the First Lady and talk with you about what I’ve learned from the American people that I’ve met on Main Street America as I’ve pedaled through this great country. And I’d like to share their hopes and dreams that they have conveyed to me and asked me to carry to you and to the leaders of Congress… It’s obviously your choice whether you want to meet with me or not, but I think I bring a perspective that your advisors cannot possibly bring you ‘cause I’m out here in touch with the people in ways that they’re not.
The taping was cut short by a little boy who could have been a young Barack Obama. Excited, he walked up to ask me about the trike, then yelled, “Mom, look, it’s a cool bike!” So I wrapped up the taping and made some cold calls to Springfield media outlets. The Illinois Times met me there and ran a piece titled, “Rocket Trike Stops in Springfield.” By the time I finished a television interview with a local ABC affiliate, it was getting too late to make much progress east, so I dialed up Terri, who kindly welcomed me back for another night.
With this unexpected gift of time on my hands, I rolled over to the nearby Lincoln Home National Historic Site. There I found the home where my favorite president lived with his family for 17 years before moving to Washington to oversee a Union on the cusp of civil war. I was excited to discover an entire neighborhood, with twelve historic structures, restored to its 1860 appearance. It even had an heirloom garden where food was grown for the Lincolns and the rest of the community. What I would not give today for such a wise and brave president, who once said: “In this age, in this country, public sentiment is everything. With it, nothing can fail; against it, nothing can succeed. Whoever molds public sentiment goes deeper than he who enacts statutes, or pronounces judicial decisions.”
But I tarried there too long, forcing me to race several miles down city streets under a darkening sky with no rear light flasher (it had fallen off when I hurriedly left the house that morning). Since I didn’t think I would be returning, I had not paid close attention to the route out and was uncertain of how to get back and wanting to get there in a hurry. I learned that night that Springfield drivers are a thoughtful lot. They were surprisingly patient with me taking up an entire lane during rush hour. Not one person honked. The irony was not lost on me in my relief at finally seeing those coal plant smokestacks on the horizon, as it meant I was close to “home.” It was pitch black when I finally rolled into the driveway, but I made it safe and sound. I later posted my video to President Obama on my YouTube channel in the hope that someone in the White House might respond to my invitation to meet with the president.
The next morning, as I was about to leave for Champaign-Urbana, I got a call from Terri warning me about extreme weather, urging me to stay put. She had heard reports of hurricane-force winds up to 80 mph in the area (several semis had been knocked over) and tornado warnings and watches were in effect. I was more than a little disappointed, as I had been invited to participate in a University of Illinois Sustainability Week event the following day. But not wanting to risk shooting through the air like a real rocket, I emailed my regrets to Matt Childress (whom I had met online months earlier during my search for an electric-assist bike).
Matt, however, was determined to get me to there and started scheming with friends on how to transport me to Champaign-Urbana in a way that would honor the integrity of my mission. One of those friends not only lived in Springfield, but also happened to own an electric car. Matt called me and asked if being towed by an electric car to the green energy fair would be agreeable. Given that I was also promoting electric vehicles as an alternative to gas-powered transport, I told him, “Absolutely.” I saw it as a perfect metaphor for how we need to move forward as a nation: by working together and being creative, we can always find a way.
Shortly after hanging up with Matt, I heard a knock at the door. Standing there was Sarah Phillips Eccles from next door, holding her 6-month-old daughter. She invited me over for breakfast. Sarah and her husband Randy had been kindly calling local radio stations on my behalf, which led to a couple of radio interviews, including a really good one with Springfield-based WTAX. Our subsequent breakfast conversation over eggs and toast was the deep kind you have with a kindred spirit. Later that afternoon, Sarah dropped off some homemade cookies for the road, and shared a heartwarmingly beautiful blog she had written called “The Future is Here.”
Sarah’s blog began with lyrics from John Lennon’s beautiful song, Imagine, dreaming of a world without war. Here is how it ended: “I’ve heard it said that originality is a by-product of sincerity. As much as Randy and I talk about living deliberately, it was terrific to talk with such a grand example of it, including extraordinary doses of both originality and sincerity. Tom’s journey embodies what it means to live with authenticity and passion. My spiritual journey has mostly been about finding a place in life, literally and figuratively, where I can experience calm and respite in a peaceful and loving atmosphere. Tom’s journey, however, is clearly much less about the small bubble of his own life and feelings. His journey is about all of us. It is about securing a place of calm and respite in a peaceful and loving atmosphere–the Earth–for all Americans and humans. His patriotism is inspiring; he has so much confidence in the drive and ingenuity of Americans. It isn’t a political ideology that drives him. It isn’t even bipartisanship. It is anti-partisanship–or, rather, it transcends partisanship. He seems to truly believe that partisanship will become a thing of the past, an eventually antiquated concept, a political science cautionary tale. He believes that Americans from all walks of life can and must find a common ground in order to solve our energy crisis. The common ground? Love: A desire to sustain the prosperity and stability of the country we love, because we all love our children. Thanks, Tom, for reminding me to Imagine.” As you can probably imagine, I was deeply touched by her words.
That night I got a call from Matt’s friend, Kevin Smith, asking me for the dimensions of the trike so he could rig up a special trailer for it (I would later learn that building it kept him up until 2:00 am). Just as I was ready to pack it in, I saw an email from my friend Paul with an AP article on the day’s “massive windstorm,” reporting “the unusual system mesmerized meteorologists because of its size and because it had barometric pressure similar to a Category 3 hurricane.” Now even more grateful for Terri’s warning, I was happy I had hunkered down for a day, even though it meant skipping a visit to the Clinton nuclear power plant where I had wanted to profile the dangers of radioactive nuclear power.
For just as important as the solutions we embrace are the false promises we reject. Often touted as clean, safe, and sustainable, nuclear power is actually none of those things. Reasonable people can debate the dangers and merits of nukes. I acknowledge that there are many thoughtful people who believe nuclear power should be expanded because it provides baseload power with fewer greenhouse gas emissions than fossil fuels. I understand why some people are willing to accept the inherent risks of nuclear technology in the face of a climate spiraling out of control. But I see it as a false choice. Given how abundantly blessed we are with truly clean, safe and sustainable energy resources in this country, and how far we have come with battery storage technology, why would we trade in one deadly problem for another when we can get the job done with conservation, efficiency, and renewables? Here, I’m talking about a U.S.-led green energy moon shot. I’m talking about transitioning to 100% renewable electricity in less than a decade.
Others like to tout the promise of new generation nuclear technologies, but these pose many of the same dangers as old generation technologies. Then there is nuclear fusion, which after decades of dogged research experienced a widely celebrated net energy gain breakthrough in 2022. But before you break out the champagne, keep in mind that the experiment used 100 times more energy than it produced just to power the lasers needed to generate the fusion reaction, meaning we are still decades away, if ever, from even the hint of commercial viability. Not to mention that nuclear fusion suffers from many of the same challenges as nuclear fission. We’re better off tapping the energy from that big fusion reactor in the sky called the Sun.
Nuclear technology just has too many fatal flaws. Here are some of the reasons why nukes are not a viable climate crisis solution: they’re too expensive; take too long to build; use too much water; and pose too much risk to the public. The risks range from the health impacts of mining the uranium fuel; to how and where to store the highly radioactive waste; to facilitating the proliferation of nuclear weapons; to the nuclear plants being vulnerable to air attack, radioactive leakage, and catastrophic meltdown. Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine has revealed another threat - the war threat - prompting the National Nuclear Security Administration to warn that Russia’s reckless shelling of Ukraine’s nuclear infrastructure risks widespread nuclear disaster.
Only two new nuclear power plants have been brought online in the U.S. in nearly a decade. The last one to come online prior to that took more than four decades to build. Without U.S. government protection, the industry might not even exist. A law passed in 1957 limits the liability of nuclear power plants in case of accidents.
This brings us to the risk of catastrophic failure. Consider the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant in Japan. I doubt anyone who saw it will ever forget the horrific footage of the 2011 tsunami, triggered by an earthquake, which claimed nearly 20,000 lives. The tsunami in turn triggered the explosion and meltdown of three Fukushima reactors. I remember the Chernobyl nuclear disaster in Russia, which killed an estimated 25,000 people. Ukraine’s Health Ministry reports that 3.5 million people, one-third of them children, fell ill from that nuclear meltdown. The 1,000-square-mile Exclusion Zone established after the meltdown is considered one of the most radioactive places on the planet. Ukraine’s neighbor, Belarus, bore the brunt of the radiation fallout from the disaster, and will continue to be poisoned long into the future. Chernobyl is the stuff of nightmares. I also remember the Three Mile Island partial meltdown in Pennsylvania. I have a friend who was poisoned by that radiation. If these meltdowns taught us anything, it is just how dangerous this technology truly is. The way I see it, an industry that can’t even figure out how to treat its radioactive waste from the Fukushima disaster without poisoning the Pacific Ocean has no business being in business.
Nuclear plants, like hydroelectric dams, are also extremely vulnerable to climate-induced droughts. Even the U.S. Army War College has cautioned that “nuclear power stations in the United States are at high risk of temporary or permanent closure due to climate threats,” warning that 60% “exist in regions that are likely to suffer from one or more climate threats” including sea level rise, severe storms, and water shortages. Then there is the problem of proliferation. “The inextricable link between nuclear energy and nuclear weapons is arguably the greatest danger of nuclear power,” asserts Physicians for Social Responsibility. “The same process used to manufacture low-enriched uranium for nuclear fuel also can be employed for the production of highly enriched uranium for nuclear weapons,” the group warns. The last thing we need is more nuclear weapons with the ability to blow up the world.
Then there is the not so little unresolved problem of where to safely store high-level radioactive waste for hundreds of thousands of years. On top of this is the energy and water required to mine, mill, and enrich the uranium fuel. Less talked about is the documented link between chronic diseases and uranium mining, particularly on Native American lands. In Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico, the health of the Navajo people has suffered greatly from decades of uranium mining and abandoned radioactive mine tailings. In South Dakota, the Oglala Lakota Sioux are fighting uranium mines that would further threaten their people and desecrate their sacred Black Hills.
Again, reasonable people can debate the dangers and merits of nuclear power. What’s not debatable is this: nukes plants are plagued with problems. Nuclear power currently generates less than 20 percent of U.S. electricity. Globally, the figure is less than 10 percent, with solar and wind generating more than that. Common sense demands a halt to building any more nuke plants, a moratorium on license renewals, and a phase-out of existing plants as renewables are ramped up to replace them, beginning with the most dangerously vulnerable plants (e.g. in earthquake zones). Let’s face it: we have safer ways of boiling water than nuke plants.
NOTE: The written form of WORLDFIRE is the authoritative version. Any inadvertent errors in transcribing the recordings are mine and mine alone.