By JOHN BARTLIT
New Mexico Citizens
for Clean Air & Water
Mike Williams came to New Mexico in the 1960s with a PhD from UCLA, an expertise in air dispersion modeling, and a deep aversion to Los Angeles smog. At the time, neither New Mexico nor the nation had laws that might control air pollution. As chance would have it, the Four Corners Power Plant became notorious for bringing several thousand tons of smoke per day onto the New Mexico scene. This strange brew of events became a grand purpose for Mike.
His grand purpose is seen in worldwide scope in the newest sourcebook on research in visibility. I refer to the 2016 book, Visibility: The Seeing of Near and Distant Landscape Features, by William Malm, published by the Dutch company, Elsevier. The book’s preface recounts the societal forces and technical elements of scenic vistas. Mike, his work, and long hours he volunteered brought both science and people to guard the Southwest’s distinctive sights.
The preface to Visibility explains:
“It has been over 50 years since (the last book on) visibility was printed in 1963. The use of the term “visibility” to represent the farthest distance at which a dark feature on the horizon can be seen has profoundly changed to represent something akin to atmospheric clarity, the ability to see and appreciate vistas, whether they be scenic landscape features found in national parks and pristine remote areas of the world or the urban areas in which most of us live.”
The preface goes on…
“…concerns about the reduction of our ability to clearly see the scenic wonders of the Grand Canyon and other national parks associated with energy development and urban growth in the southwestern United States have motivated a renewed interest in the visibility sciences. From the mid-1970s to the early 2000s, this interest in existing visibility and potential future visibility impairment resulted in many millions of dollars being spent by the government and industry on visibility research. This was coincident with and certainly related to the development of federal laws and regulations for the protection of visibility in U.S. national parks and wilderness areas. The research addressed the questions needed to write and implement these laws and regulations. These included knowledge of current visibility conditions; causes of current visibility impairment; sensitivity of visual changes to changes in pollutant levels; methods to monitor, model, and communicate visibility conditions; and the value of good visual conditions.”
Mike knew the field and supplied better ideas where they were needed. By his nature, he was eager to work through these new issues, which others often find boring, and thus he changed the visibility dialogue. His pioneering work led many others to take up this exacting task. And so it is, today.
But the fuller story holds a host of other insights that cannot be drawn from equations, calculations, and cost estimates. Mike and I witnessed the panorama of human quirks that fills the public stage.
Some choice scenes hold secrets. Remember that many things were different in the early days when Mike and I began. We both had day jobs. The digital age of computing and communicating was still over the horizon. Electric typewriters at home were in the offing. Smudgy carbon paper, onion skin, homemade graphics, and White-Out were basics. My wife and soon my daughter Jennifer typed Mike’s testimonies before hearings, such as the big one held in Denver.
As was often the case, we clean-air buffs got our testimony together only at the 11th hour. We had the usual last-minute scramble, with the final touches added in the car driving up to Denver.
A ragged way to do business. But we got the job done and had our say. The next witness after us on the list to testify was a spokesman for the western utility companies, whose vast and dirty coal-fired plants were the arch foes. The hearing official called the name once. Then a second time. Up to the podium strode the gray suit … the ominous briefcase. No minor leaguer is this. He spoke with authority: “Uhhm … I was supposed to meet someone in the lobby to get our statement, but no one showed up. I don’t know what I am supposed to say. I guess that’s all I have. Thank you.”
Mike and I stifled a great laugh until later. The same hearty laugh burst out at every recall for all these years. Going on, our chance of winning grew brighter than we first imagined. And so it was.