Char Miller Research Articles

West Side Rising: How San Antonio’s 1921 Flood Devastated a City and Sparked a Latino Environmental Justice Movement. By Char Miller

<i>West Side Rising: How San Antonio’s 1921 Flood Devastated a City and Sparked a Latino Environmental Justice Movement</i>. By Char Miller

West Side Rising: How San Antonio’s 1921 Flood Devastated a City and Sparked a Latino Environmental Justice Movement by Char Miller

West Side Rising: How San Antonio’s 1921 Flood Devastated a City and Sparked a Latino Environmental Justice Movement by Char Miller

Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena ed. by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson

Reviewed by: Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena ed. by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson Julie Courtwright Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena. Edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2020. vii + 264 pp. Illustrations, index. $24.95 paper. Theodore Roosevelt: Naturalist in the Arena, edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson, is an anthology about Theodore Roosevelt (TR)'s enduring legacy as a conservationist and lover of nature. It is a familiar topic, but the writers attempt to add fresh perspectives by studying Roosevelt's "manifold encounters with the great outdoors" through an interdisciplinary lens (xiv). The result is an appealing and readable book that highlights both TR's familiar and less familiar connections with nature, as well as his quirky behavior and notable intellect. Some of the writers also explore Roosevelt's less laudable opinions, most notably his evolving attitudes toward race, and their connection to the president's "intellectual and affective response to the natural world" (xiv). The editors have divided the book into three sections. The first, "Field Notes," examines Roosevelt's lesser-known work as a "scientist and curator, observer and recorder" (xiv). Here, writers feature TR as a writer, bird-lover, and urban explorer. Melanie Choukas-Bradley's chapter about Roosevelt's love affair with Rock Creek Park in Washington, DC, is a fascinating window into his everyday relationship with nature, independent of his famous trips to the American West. For Great Plains enthusiasts, Thomas Cullen Bailey and Katherine Joslin include an analysis of Roosevelt's writing, including Hunting Trips of a Ranchman (1885) and its relationship to the president's personal grief and the Great Plains landscape. The second section, "Outside Influences," explores TR's relationship with notable individuals such as George Bird Grinnell, Gifford Pinchot, John Muir, and William T. Hornaday. Jenkinson's chapter, "The Cowboy, the Crusader, and the Salvation of the American Buffalo," is the most Great Plains-centric chapter. It describes Roosevelt and Hornaday's separate hunting trips to the Northern Plains, taken at a time when the number of bison in the region was negligible and declining fast. Hornaday, chief taxidermist at the National Museum of Natural History, collected bison specimens for preservation at his museum. Both men had "conversion experiences" (xix) regarding the bison, although Roosevelt initially viewed their extermination as an unfortunate consequence of white conquest of the West. Hornaday, after personally killing some of the last wild bison in the Plains, worked to save the animals from extinction. Eventually the two men met and joined forces as prominent members of the American Bison Society, a group charged with preservation. After multiple chapters focused on details surrounding Roosevelt's relationship with nature, section 3 widens the scope to place Roosevelt as a naturalist within the context of history and the world. Elliott West connects Roosevelt's thoughts and actions about big business, immigration, and conservation to the American West and its place within the American story, while Ian Tyrrell looks at Roosevelt's influence on the world stage and his impact on conservation beyond the United States. There are occasional errors in the book. The University of Iowa is not at Ames (138), for example, and at least one author presents an ahistorical interpretation of the near-extinction of the bison (127). At other times, the book would have benefited from closer [End Page 267] editing. Jenkinson is unclear about whether Roosevelt and Hornaday were true friends or just professional acquaintances, for example. There are also virtually no historical women in the entire book. Inconsistencies and omissions aside, Theodore Roosevelt: Naturalist in the Arena is a welcome addition to the Roosevelt historiography. Its interdisciplinary approach allows for diverse topics and points of view, grounded by their shared connection to the natural world and Roosevelt's place within it. Julie Courtwright Department of History Iowa State University Copyright © 2023 Center for Great Plains Studies, University of Nebraska–Lincoln

A Long Look Ahead: William L. Bray and Early Texas Conservationism

A Long Look Ahead: William L. Bray and Early Texas Conservationism Char Miller (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Ecologist William L. Bray (1865–1953) was an expert on the vegetation of western Texas and one of the state’s first conservationists; he taught at the University of Texas and Syracuse University. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Accession 90-105, Science Service Records, Image No. SIA2008-0060. William L. Bray seemed called to the Edwards Plateau, the dominant landform in Central Texas. Not in the religious sense, exactly. He was botanist, not a minister. But the vast, uplifted, and semi-arid terrain was the scene of some of his most important work, research he approached with special fervor. The wellspring of his fervency was at once spiritual and scientific. Bray noted this link in an address at the May 1925 dedication of the University of Texas’s new Biological Laboratories Building: “It is unthinkable that a universe so vast, so wonderful, so beautiful, so orderly, and that a creature with power to discern and appreciate all this, should be matters of chance or without motive.” However centering Bray’s Christian faith was, its focus was “turned to the business of right living and acting in this present,” a social gospel that led Bray to pursue the “betterment of human environment and of social conditions.”1 Science thus played a formative role in shaping human affairs. For Bray, this meant that botany had utility, that it should be of use to society, an argument he had announced in his dissertation. Assessing “plant life in Texas as the product of its environment,” he wrote approvingly, “lies in the growing tendency to rely upon such study to furnish a rational basis for the exploitation of plant life in agriculture, horticulture, forestry, [End Page 251] agrostology, and various other economic fields.”2 Bray made the same case twenty-seven years later at the grand opening of the university’s new laboratory. Botanists, he argued, were “concerned in what way the plant world can be induced to yield toward material human welfare.”3 That was why he was deeply interested in the “practical benefits to the people of the State growing out of the service of botanical science,” a concept the title of his address highlighted: “Botany and the State.”4 Bray’s utilitarian perspective was consistent with the defining values of his academic discipline, its professional ethos and social advocacy. Established in 1894, the Botanical Society of America promoted botanical research in American universities and colleges that would be linked to the demands of industrial capitalism, affirmed the priority of academic expertise over amateurism, and publicly supported the creation of forest reserves as part of its utilitarian credo.5 Bray embodied these professionalizing commitments during his decade-long career at the University of Texas, from 1897 to 1907. While there, he mounted a series of robust botanical investigations and rigorous ecological analyses of two regions in the state led him to develop a sophisticated set of policy recommendations for their careful, scientific management. In particular, he made a strong case for the immediate application of conservation measures to control natural-resource exploitation on the Edwards Plateau of Central Texas and in the Piney Woods of East Texas to insure these regions’ ecological stability and economic productivity across time. Bray, in short, emerged as the leading academic advocate for the implementation of a state or national regulatory presence on the ground. He had no doubt such oversight of unregulated capitalism was necessary, even if little directly came of his convictions. Bray’s zeal was manifest in his man-on-a-mission approach to life. Born [End Page 252] in Burnside, Illinois, in September 1865, the ninth of thirteen children born to William and Martha Bray, he was educated in local public schools. After high school, Bray earned a teaching degree at Missouri’s Kirkland Normal School (now Truman State University) and spent the next set of years as a teacher and administrator in Iowa and Missouri. Showing his inclination toward the social gospel, he took a twelve-month leave to direct the YMCA in Fresno, California. During his free time, the...

Theodore Roosevelt: Naturalist in the Arena. Edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson

<i>Theodore Roosevelt: Naturalist in the Arena.</i> Edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson

The Nature of Hope: Grassroots Organizing, Environmental Justice, and Political Change. Edited by Char Miller and Jeff Crane. Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2018. viii + 353 pp. Notes and index. Paper $34.95.

<i>The Nature of Hope: Grassroots Organizing, Environmental Justice, and Political Change</i>. Edited by Char Miller and Jeff Crane. Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2018. viii + 353 pp. Notes and index. Paper $34.95.

Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena. Edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2020. xxiv + 234 pp. Illustrations, notes, and index. Paper $24.95.

<i>Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena.</i> Edited by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2020. xxiv + 234 pp. Illustrations, notes, and index. Paper $24.95.

In the Loop: A Political and Economic History of San Antonio by David R. Johnson

Reviewed by: In the Loop: A Political and Economic History of San Antonio by David R. Johnson Herbert G. Ruffin II In the Loop: A Political and Economic History of San Antonio. By David R. Johnson. (San Antonio: Trinity University Press, 2020. Pp. 576. Illustrations, appendix, notes, index.) In the Loop examines the political and economic history of San Antonio from the 1700s into the 2000s, ranging from the time it was a colony of Spain to the mid-1970s, when its city leaders and businessmen stopped linking inevitability to city growth and instead adopted a modern political system of urban growth centered on good-faith cooperation by government, business, and investors. It is written in the tradition of American urban history by scholars like Carl Abbott, Roger W. Lotchin, Char Miller, and Rodolfo Rosales. Urban historian David R. Johnson gives special attention to western history and to the political and economic impact that urban power brokers have had in urbanizing and industrializing San Antonio over the past three centuries. An accessible read organized into three parts and ten chapters that are bookended by a brief introduction and an afterword that takes the story into the twenty-first century, the book shines in the telling of San Antonio’s urban growth within its Interstate 410 beltway. After a general discussion of Spanish San Antonio and early boosterism, core themes examine San Antonio’s Main Plaza and the struggles related to creating a culture of professional boosterism; slums, scandal, and revitalizing San Antonio’s downtown; and the explosive urban growth that occurred under a new, competent, and committed group of developers who used cooperative partnerships, suburban development, and management of discontented [End Page 214] old guard, Mexican American, and African American community advocates. Using as its sources land transactions, books, articles, newspapers, reports, special collections, meeting minutes, and interviews, In the Loop explains a few curiosities about the city. For example, how does a city with a small-town feel and a history of complacent and conflicted leadership grow into a major metropolis? Why do many southwestern cities that formed after 1950, like San Antonio and San Jose, California, have huge suburban subdivisions annexed within their city limits? One area in which the book is vulnerable to criticism is its social history, especially as it addresses women and race relations. An adequate examination on how women affected San Antonio’s growth is missing. In regard to race relations between White and Mexican-origin San Antonians, the narrative is more thorough in addressing how that history impacted the city’s political and economic history. Managing race relations and maintaining a strong military presence, it can be argued, have been a concern of city leaders ever since the mission of San Antonio de Valero and presidio of San Antonio de Béxar were established in 1718. This tradition transferred from Tejanos to White Texans in the 1830s and did not change until the civil rights struggles of the 1960s and 1970s forced San Antonio’s old guard to start taking notice of Mexican American and African American infrastructural needs in Southside and Eastside San Antonio. The limited coverage of Black San Antonians in chapter 9 is the only section in which their history is critically discussed. In every other chapter there is brief mention of slavery, Jim Crow, and the impact of defense industry jobs during World War II, but despite the notable growth in Black Texas history since Alwyn Barr’s Black Texans (Jenkins, 1973), the Black experience is no more than a footnote in this otherwise brilliant telling of the political and economic history of the Alamo City. That said, In the Loop is essential for a basic understanding of the political and economic history of San Antonio. It is a must-read for audiences interested in a mostly comprehensive story of the formation and growth of San Antonio, which by 1990 had become one of the ten most populated cities in the United States. Herbert G. Ruffin II Syracuse University Copyright © 2021 The Texas State Historical Association

"Greed for Land": W. W. Ashe and the Environmental Roots of the 1921 Flood in Central Texas

"Greed for Land":W. W. Ashe and the Environmental Roots of the 1921 Flood in Central Texas Char Miller (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution W. W. Ashe circa 1926. Photograph courtesy of Will Ashe Bason. [End Page 62] In 2010–11, the San Antonio River Authority (SARA) spent an estimated $4 million retrofitting the Olmos Dam (built between 1925 and 1927); workers drilled sixty-eight top-to-bottom holes in the dam and in each inserted cable tendons that were then anchored in bedrock, tightened, and sealed. This project was a consequence of floods in 1998 and 2002, during which a worrisome volume of water had roared down Olmos Creek, which at thirty-two square miles serves as the upper reaches of the San Antonio River—its headwaters. Each time, the floodwaters had piled up behind the aging detention dam and submerged US 281, San Antonio's vital north-south highway. Concerned about the dam's stability, engineers also were struck by how fast the rampaging flow had moved downstream. The two concerns were related and directly connected to US Route 281: it is a key thoroughfare for those commuting daily from their homes in the northern suburbs to work in the downtown core (and beyond). These commuters live in subdivisions that extend along and radiate out from the highway, and they shop in the many malls and strip centers platted at each exit. By the late 1990s, Olmos Creek's upper basin had been built out and what once had been a landscape of oaks, junipers, and grassland had been made impervious with every roof, gutter, street, and parking lot. These intertwined developments accelerated the movement [End Page 63] of water across this concertized terrain, forcing SARA to retrofit the Olmos Dam.1 W.W. Ashe (1872–1932), who had been a witness to the 1921 flood that had hammered San Antonio and led to the construction of the Olmos Dam in the first place, would not have been surprised that early twenty-first century engineers discovered there was a tight link between upstream conditions and downstream dangers. That is precisely what he had warned would happen if the city's public officials and business elite—the dam's lead advocates—did not better manage the environment north of where the flood-retention infrastructure was to be built. Ashe was not concerned about concrete, but cattle. Yet for all their differences, the inanimate building material and the four-legged ruminant had this in common: they flattened the land. As a scientist and researcher, Ashe, who was working for the United States Forest Service in 1921, had been studying the interplay between high country watersheds and valley communities that depended on them since the 1890s.2 He had begun this work while employed by the North Carolina Geological Survey, under whose aegis he examined how deforestation and overgrazing contributed significantly to the frequency and intensity of floods in the Appalachian Mountains. He assessed these and other anthropogenic factors in an 1897 path-breaking volume, Timber Trees and Forests of North Carolina, which he co-authored with forester Gifford Pinchot and who as first chief of the Forest Service later hired Ashe to work for the federal agency.3 He noticed that degraded land increased erosion, and that this erosion filled streams with silt. When heavy rains pounded cutover mountains and chewed-up hills, creeks quickly filled with debris-driving floodwaters, a churning force that carried uprooted trees and bushes, boulders, rocks, and gravel. This dangerous energy plowed up farmlands, undercut bridges, and slammed into river towns and cities. To combat the damage that such floods routinely produced in the Appalachians from New England to the Deep South, grassroots organizations championed legislation that would enable the federal government to purchase denuded land from willing sellers with the goal of regenerating forest and grass cover. After more than a decade of debate, activists in the North and South managed to secure congressional approval for what is known as the Weeks Act (1911). One crucial element of this bill was [End Page 64] the creation of the National Forest Reservation Commission, which would determine which...

Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena

Review of: Theodore Roosevelt, Naturalist in the Arena, by Char Miller and Clay S. Jenkinson

The Nature of Hope: Grassroots Organizing, Environmental Justice, and Political Change. Intersections in Environmental Injustice. Edited by Char Miller and Jeff Crane

The Nature of Hope: Grassroots Organizing, Environmental Justice, and Political Change. Intersections in Environmental Injustice. Edited by Char Miller and Jeff Crane

Where's There's Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana ed. by Char Miller

Reviewed by: Where's There's Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana ed. by Char Miller Barney Warf Where's There's Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana. Edited by Char Miller. Foreword by Jared Juffman. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2018. vii + 226 pp. Illustrations, tables, index. $29.95 cloth. The drive toward the legalization of marijuana has unleashed a flurry of new literature concerned with its impacts and with the legal debates pertaining to permissible use. This volume, a series of 12 chapters and an afterword, authored by academic ecologists and sociologists, wildlife biologists, and wildlife managers, sheds interesting new light on the politics of legalization as well as understudied dimensions of marijuana cultivation and the illegal trespass of grow operations on federal lands. As different authors make clear, illegal grow sites were the unintended consequence of the disastrous war on drugs, which encouraged producers to shift cultivation from Mexico to the United States. Northern California's Emerald Triangle emerged as the prime producer in this regard, a locale whose operations were soon duplicated in other parts of the Golden State and then in several others. Most grow sites go undetected. Thousands of illegal grow sites have enormously deleterious effects on local ecosystems, including the cutting of trees, diversion of streams, and contamination of streams with sediment and fertilizers, widespread garbage, heavy use of pesticides and fungicides, and ro-denticides that have exterminated many small animals and poisoned the ones that prey on them. Hikers and forestry personnel stumbling across such sites are often put in danger. These types of operations now exist in at least 22 states. As noted in chapter 1, "More than forty years of federal intransigence concerning cannabis has forced state regulators and cannabis advocates to pursue a piecemeal approach to legalization and has done very little in the way of bringing growers into regulatory compliance, and even less at protecting the environment. Debate rages as to whether legalization will enhance or depress such operations" (24). Trespass operations are prefigured by earlier cultural geographies. Thus, in northern California the tradition extends back to hippies in the 1960s; in Appalachia, their roots extend to the tradition of rural moonshine producers, now displaced by Mexican immigrants. The chapters are engaging. One chapter consists of a hair-raising first-person account of a raid on an illegal grow operation. Others offer remarkably sympathetic views of the workers on grow sites. Essentially all are undocumented aliens, poorly educated, with no knowledge of the law and justice system or the risks, often lured to the work under false pretenses, who are essentially slaves. Mexican cartels may hold their families hostage to force cooperation, and such workers may not testify after being caught, fearing for the safety of their kin back home. Some are charged with all of the crimes committed by the cartel, and many are sentenced to long and harsh prison sentences. Several chapters address legalization movements in various states. What makes this interesting is how the volume depicts different trajectories toward similar goals, paths shaped by local histories, cultures, and political environments. Medical marijuana inevitably led the way. Typically successful legalization involves multiple failed attempts. California is the behemoth of legal and illegal cultivation, producing more than all the others combined; its move toward legal recreational cannabis opened the door for others such as Colorado, Oregon, and Washington. In Washington, DC, the panopticonic gaze of congressional Republicans has repeatedly attempted to thwart legalization. The aftermath of legalization is also uneven. As chapter 9 notes, "different states have crafted different regulatory regimes and licensing requirements" (143-44). Banking services for distributors are difficult to come by, given that cannabis is still illegal at the federal level. Taken together, these chapters provide an informative and frequently fascinating glimpse into the complex political, environmental, and regulatory dimensions of cannabis production. The book will be useful for academics, legalization advocates, and anyone interested in the world's most heavily consumed illegal drug. [End Page 89] Barney Warf Department of Geography University of Kansas Copyright © 2020 Center for Great Plains Studies, University of Nebraska-Lincoln

Making the Past Present: Editor's Note

For this inaugural volume of the ESHJ, editor Char Miller discusses the formative role that writer Mary Austin (1868-1934) has had in identifying many of the Eastern Sierra's key features, natural and human. This new journal hopes to add to the intellectual work that she launched, serving as a window into this complex, fascinating, and contested region.

San Antonio: A Tricentennial History. By Char Miller

<i>San Antonio: A Tricentennial History</i>. By Char Miller

Where There’s Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana. Edited by Char Miller. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2018. xiv + 242 pp. Illustrations, maps, tables, notes, bibliography, index. Cloth $29.95.

Previous articleNext article No AccessBook ReviewsWhere There’s Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana. Edited by Char Miller. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2018. xiv + 242 pp. Illustrations, maps, tables, notes, bibliography, index. Cloth $29.95.Nick JohnsonNick JohnsonColorado Encyclopedia Search for more articles by this author PDFPDF PLUSFull Text Add to favoritesDownload CitationTrack CitationsPermissionsReprints Share onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail SectionsMoreDetailsFiguresReferencesCited by Volume 24, Number 2April 2019 Published for the American Society for Environmental History and the Forest History Society Views: 7Total views on this site Citations: 1Citations are reported from Crossref Article DOIhttps://doi.org/10.1093/envhis/emy137 Views: 7Total views on this site Citations: 1Citations are reported from Crossref HistoryPublished online January 28, 2019 © 2019 The Author. All rights reserved.PDF download Crossref reports the following articles citing this article: Isis Current Bibliography of the History of Science and Its Cultural Influences 2020, Isis 111, no.S1S1 (Jan 2021): 1–317.https://doi.org/10.1086/713361

Ogallala: Water for a Dry Land. 3rd ed. By John Opie, Char Miller, and Kenna Lang Archer. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2018. xiv + 419 pp. Illustrations, maps, table, notes, and index. Paper $35.000, e-book $35.00.

<i>Ogallala: Water for a Dry Land. 3rd ed</i>. By John Opie, Char Miller, and Kenna Lang Archer. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2018. xiv + 419 pp. Illustrations, maps, table, notes, and index. Paper $35.000, e-book $35.00.

San Antonio: A Tricentennial History by Char Miller

Reviewed by: San Antonio: A Tricentennial History by Char Miller Heywood T. Sanders San Antonio: A Tricentennial History. By Char Miller. (Austin: Texas State Historical Association, 2018. Pp. 186. Illustrations, notes, index.) Alamo City, River City, winter resort, military city, cyber city: San Antonio has long sought to shape and mold its image to attract visitors, investment capital, and new residents. Char Miller’s new work is the first general history of San Antonio and traces its evolution from an outpost of the Spanish colonial empire to the nation’s seventh largest city. The volume encompasses the broad sweep of San Antonio’s development from the first habitation of the area by the Papaya people through the efforts of successive generations of San Antonians to create a viable and functional community in an environment marked by extremes. Drawing on Miller’s previous work, the book has a strong environmental focus, covering the devastating floods that have plagued the city and the often divided public response. The volume presents substantial material on the development of the famed River Walk, reflecting Lewis Fisher’s pioneering work and bringing the story up to date with the improvement of the river’s Museum Reach and Mission Reach. Water supply is also a strong continuing theme, from the initial efforts of Jean Baptiste LaCoste and George Brackenridge to more recent battles over the Applewhite Reservoir project and the Vista Ridge pipeline plan. The work offers portraits of notable public officials from Mayors Bryan [End Page 135] Callaghan, Maury Maverick, and Henry Cisneros to Representative Henry B. González, as well as those political outsiders, such as Emma Tenayuca and Ernie Cortés, who have sought to reshape public priorities. Often overlooked figures in the city’s history, such as Charles Bellinger, Father Carmelo Tranchese, and Rabbi Ephraim Frisch, are discussed together with a host of more recent mayors and county judges. The final chapter, “Future Shining?,” is particularly effective in cataloging the host of grand public projects pursued by city and county governments since the 1980s and the question of whether those projects, and the city’s continuing population growth, have brought the promised rewards. San Antonio, Miller notes, remains marked by enough spatial segregation and educational inequities that it can be considered not one city but a set of distinct and disparate enclaves. In covering some three hundred years of history in a brief 161 pages, readers will note the relatively limited coverage or absence of some issues and events. HemisFair ’68 is mentioned only briefly, and there is no discussion of the city’s purchase of the local water system in 1925, its recurring public health crises throughout the twentieth century, or the decade-long battle over the planned North Expressway, which was finally built as part of U.S. Highway 281. Miller’s style is highly readable and engaging in linking a variety of events, bringing a sense of continuity to San Antonio’s often noisy and conflictual evolution. It also suggests the controversy and political division that lie behind signal local events. Miller describes how, in the aftermath of the devastating September 1921 flood, the city’s “powerbrokers . . . rallied around a plan calling for the construction of a retention dam across the Olmos Creek Valley to prevent floodwaters from coursing through the city” (96). Yet the $2.8 million bond proposal to fund that dam did not appear on the city’s ballot until December 1923, delayed by a series of controversies over its cost and a battle between machine politicians and political reformers. And the support for flood control was far from unanimous, with the bonds garnering the backing of just 55.5 percent of voters. Even on so vital a community imperative as flood protection, San Antonians (and their leaders) were remarkably divided—a history that remains to be fully explored and examined. Heywood T. Sanders University of Texas at San Antonio Copyright © 2019 The Texas State Historical Association

Where There's Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy and Politics of Marijuana edited by Char Miller

Where There's Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy and Politics of Marijuana edited by Char Miller

San Antonio: A Tricentennial History by Char Miller

San Antonio: A Tricentennial History by Char Miller

Where There’s Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana. Edited by Char Miller. Foreword by Jared Huffman

<i>Where There’s Smoke: The Environmental Science, Public Policy, and Politics of Marijuana</i>. Edited by Char Miller. Foreword by Jared Huffman