Environmental Engineering Reference
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velopment. In many ways this was largely responsible for us staying in Aurora. Shortly
after moving back, we met a number of new friends and embraced some old acquain-
tances who shared many of our eccentric interests. Among this eclectic group of
1960s kids there existed a strong, alternative-minded bent toward revitalizing small-
town and rural life with new ideas pertaining to nature, philosophy and religion, art,
agriculture and food preparation, renewable energy, and design and building. This
was not unusual in America in the 1970s. Young people were moving back to the
land, experimenting with new educational models, and new organizations were pop-
ping up to preserve land and promote sustainable agriculture and appropriate tech-
nology. What was unusual was not that our group shared interests in these things, but
that it was happening in a small farm town in the Great Plains. My hometown was not
only familiar because of my long memory of the place; now, because of the diversity of
people and interests, it became intellectually exciting to me in a way that college
never had been. Thanks to lots of good coffee and tea, food, friends, family, coopera-
tive work efforts, and many late nights deep in discussion (before kids), Jan and I made
it through those rough financial times. We became fulfilled, albeit in noneconomic
terms, and were motivated by our passion for the new life we had found in Aurora.
Without this foundation of people, moving back to my hometown would certainly not
have proven to be a permanent, and for the most part, satisfying choice. We ultimately
became rooted more deeply in the community than ever before, and through the
agency of Prairie Plains we sought to create certain changes.
But back in 1980, having no track record, credibility, or funding, our concept of
the fledgling Institute was, of necessity, very parochial and basic. It was inconceivable
to think we could really do much. It made sense to us that a county-based conserva-
tion and education approach might work best in such a pragmatic agricultural region
where things do not change quickly, and where personal bonds and trust are best built
at a local level, usually one on one. We wanted to do educational programs with local
schools as well as the general public. Both Jan and I enjoyed life-changing field biol-
ogy experiences at the University of Minnesota's Lake Itasca and the University of Ne-
braska's Cedar Point biological field stations. These experiences greatly affected our
thinking about full immersion, hands-on education for teaching science and history
pertaining to the land, the beauty and scientific wonder of nature, as well as awareness
of place. We also believed that it could be possible to preserve and manage a few
prairie remnants around Aurora; we felt we could use them as educational sites and as
places to demonstrate stewardship principles and techniques new to the area. Due in
large part to my trip to Chicago and Madison, I could easily envision a world of po-
tential for Prairie Plains in ecological restoration, both as a means to pursue personal
interests in ecosystem science and to involve people in central Nebraska in fascinating
work. Still, this great potential was quite small in my mind in terms of the extent to
which we might impact the process. I could never have imagined the scale that our
role in restoration would attain in two decades.
Full-time employment for Prairie Plains seemed like a far-off dream through the
1980s. In addition, full-time work on other jobs made it difficult to attend to Institute
work. I was able to work for myself, thanks again to house painting, thus enabling me
