New Projects

Around six years ago I started on a magazine article for Smokies Life Journal about John D. Rockefeller, Jr.’s $5 million contribution to help create Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I had always been curious about his motives. Why did a New York millionaire, the son of an oil tycoon and one of the richest people in the world, donate the equivalent of $80 million (in 2024 dollars) for a park in the southern Appalachian Mountains?

The more I explored the topic, the more I realized there was much more to the story than just JDR, Jr.’s philanthropy for the Smokies. He also made significant contributions of time, talent, and money to over a dozen other national parks. By the time I had finished the magazine story, I was so intrigued I decided to write the book.

Over the next few years I made a total of four trips to the Rockefeller Archive Center located in the old family enclave (called Kyuit) overlooking the Hudson River near Tarrytown, NY. I discovered a lot about the philanthropist JDR, Jr. which I felt others would also find interesting. He was a teetotaling Baptist whose whole life was devoted to his faith and helping others. He was as thrifty as they come, willing to dispute a 50¢ overcharge at a hotel or tailor shop for as long as it took for resolution; sometimes weeks, months, or longer. He was shy, humble, modest, and massively insecure. He suffered multiple full-fledged nervous breakdowns as a youth and young adult and endured migraines, stomach disorders, and other stress-induced maladies his entire life. When the stress of being the heir to one of the world’s most complex industrial conglomerates became too great, he always looked to nature for healing. When it came to saving big trees or outstanding natural areas for the enjoyment of present and future generations, he was willing to spend “whatever it takes” to accomplish his conservation goals. Once he embarked on a conservation project, he never quit until it was completed. No matter how controversial it became or the criticism that was directed his way. As a conservation do-gooder, he definitely incurred more reproach than praise.

The more I delved into research, also visiting the National Archives near Washington, D.C, and park archives in Mesa Verde and Great Smokies, it occurred to me how unusual it was that I had worked in three major “Rockefeller Parks,”—Grand Teton, Yellowstone, and the Smokies—and still knew so little about JDR, Jr. The reason for this ignorance was no great mystery, JDR, Jr. was such a modest person that he rarely allowed recognition of his munificent deeds. There is a nice, very small plaque on a rock near Jackson Lake Lodge in the Tetons, recognizing JDR, Jr.’s 24-year-long bare knuckle, no-holds-barred, soul-wrenching battle to protect the Grand Tetons, but it was put up anonymously by some of JDR, Jr.’s friends, without his knowledge or permission. There is a more substantial monument in the Smokies, at Newfound Gap, but it recognizes Junior’s parents, particularly his saintly mother, Laura Spelman Rockefeller. JDR, Jr.’s name does not appear on the plaque. 

But to me, the most fascinating part of the story is how JDR, Jr. melded so seamlessly with the first superheroes of the National Park Service—Stephen T. Mather, Horace M. Albright, and Arno B. Cammerer. Together they became a national park machine. The NPS leaders had the authority of their agency and connections in the highest echelons of the federal government while JDR, Jr. brought capital and his entourage of the world’s best lawyers, accountants, advisors, real estate specialists, and other heavy hitters. Albright, Mather, and Cammerer were high-minded altruists and workaholics who, like JDR, Jr., were willing to make enormous personal and professional sacrifices for the national parks.

The foursome, along with other park superintendents and JDR, Jr.’s top conservation advisors, also became good friends. They fished together, road trails together, toured the parks and potential parks together, and supported each other through life’s rough patches. They were united in their efforts to create things that were beautiful, enduring, and could rejuvenate the human spirit. Now and forever.

During the course of writing the book, it also occurred to me that it would be a very good thing if similar partnerships were formed today. Our national parks—while still “the best idea America ever had”—are undersized, overcrowded, underfunded, and overwhelmed with needs ranging from basic infrastructure to education and research. How fine it would be if contemporaries from different backgrounds and perspectives would pool their resources and once again do “whatever it takes” to rescue our national parks.