By David A. Ramsey
In the late 1970s, here in my home state of Tennessee, there was a well-known public service ad on TV that showed a nasty looking character, driving down an otherwise scenic highway in a nasty old convertible, throwing out massive amounts of nasty trash as he cruised along. The lyrics to the twangy tune that accompanied the spot declared, “There ain’t no lower class than Tennessee Trash.” You can still find it on YouTube.
That ad campaign came along not long after the famous national campaign, “Keep America Beautiful,” featuring a commercial that depicted a tearful Indian paddling his canoe through a river full of trash, sludge and dead fish. And sure enough, the awareness created by these and other such programs, all across the country, did raise awareness of the scale of industrial and general pollution, including the mindless trashing of our roads, waterways, parks and other public spaces.
But if you believe the despicable practice of trashing the great outdoors has actually ended since then, you’d be badly mistaken. It’s been getting worse. That’s right, ol’ Tennessee (Carolina, Virginia, Georgia—take your pick) Trash is still around, not only on the highways and byways as shown in the old TV spot, but also out there fouling and polluting our cherished recreational lands and waters at an alarming level—and pretty much getting away with it.
Research shows that sport fishing alone drives more than $1.2 billion in economic activity in Tennessee, supporting about 7,500 jobs, yet that activity is threatened by what is happening to the species and habitat that support it. Tennessee Wildlife Federation has stated that, “Despite public education efforts, Tennessee’s litter problem hasn’t improved. And studies are finding litter is more harmful to wildlife than we thought—from releasing toxins when it’s eaten, to changing the structure and ecosystems of lakes and riverbeds.” For an idea of the scale of the problem, TWF also said that “…a recent study showed that the Tennessee River contains more microplastics per gallon of water than any other tested river in the world. It’s dumping 32 million pieces of it into the Ohio River every second. That is to say nothing of the non-plastic litter.”
Really? @#%&, people—that’s messed up!
Why is it that we still fail miserably in committing adequate resources to curtailing, if not eliminating, this blight on our natural resources and communities? The fact that volunteers, from various non-profit and civic organizations throughout the region (and many thanks to them all), go out every year or so and attempt to clean up some of the mess does not excuse the rest of the population, especially elected officials and law enforcers, to ignore the problem or shirk from the responsibility of tackling it head-on. Fact is, the decision makers and enforcers will do pretty much exactly what we demand they do, if enough of us demand it. Unfortunately, it seems that sometimes even we self-professed outdoor lovers turn a blind eye to the garbage and its damage we encounter while we’re loving the outdoors.
Would just a few more well-placed refuse stations in our communities be that cost prohibitive? Would establishing and enforcing stronger penalties for dumpers and making an extra effort to identify and hold them accountable really be that hard? Would a stronger, wide-scale education project be that hard to establish? As the saying goes, if we’re not part of the solution, we must be part of the problem—and believe me, there’s a problem.
For example, when household appliances, furniture and other types of junk are found along the treasured Appalachian Trail, there’s a problem. When garbage, old tires and car parts, building materials, TVs, couches, toilets, microwave ovens and countless other large objects are repeatedly dumped off beside the roads and streams that traverse the national forests in our region, there’s a problem. And when the vital streams, rivers and lakes that bring us such incredible recreational enjoyment and economic benefits are treated like liquid landfills, there’s a problem. And I mean, if people can carry full their Natural Lite, Mountain Dew, Skoal, or any of a thousand kinds of food and snacks into the woods or out on the water, but then can’t manage to carry back out the empty containers and wrappers, there’s definitely a problem. That one blows my mind.
No rocket science here. There are solid ways to get control of this problem—depending, of course, on the public’s wishes and will. In my view, one of the best and fastest ways to make a big difference is for a whole lot more of us outdoor-loving non-trashers to work harder to ensure the trashers are identified, legally and effectively penalized and their ways corrected. Otherwise (and, no, it’s not too strong at all), we are at least their enablers and at worst, their accomplices.
David A. Ramsey is a regionally and nationally recognized outdoor photographer and writer from Unicoi, TN. His recently released book, Rocky Fork: Hidden Jewel of the Blue Ridge Wild, is available at Mahoney’s in Johnson City and online at www.ramseyphotos.com.