Volume 14 Issue 1 (Fall 2021)
“It is easy to remove a weevil from a grain, but hard to reverse the damage it does.”
~Michael Bassey Johnson, Song of a Nature Lover

The Final Fire?
I have a wood-burning stove, and every fall I
look forward to the first fire of the season. I
get my wood during the summer and enjoy
building the stack that will keep my family
and me warm all winter. The first crisp fall
day, I build a fire and then spend an hour or
so watching the flames with a glass of good
bourbon.
However, by late April, I can’t wait for
summer because I’m thoroughly bored with
making fires. I’ve split too much wood; I’ve
accumulated too many splinters; and I’ve been frustrated by too many fires that have
suddenly gone out when they seemed to be burning.
It’s often struck me that while I always note the first fire of the year, I never know
which fire will be the last fire—far too often we get a cold day in May that requires yet
another trip to the woodpile.
The potential last fire of the season seems like a good metaphor for this issue of The
Hemlock. We published our first issue in the spring of 2008, and it’s been one of the
most satisfying experiences of my academic career. It was fun to celebrate our 10th
anniversary in the spring of 2017 and to look back over the outstanding articles that we
had published (I still have lots of paperbound copies of that issue if any of you are
interested). Last year, like so many things, The Hemlock fell victim to COVID, and I

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 2

considered the possibility of making the Spring 2020 issue our swan song. But the
response from the Environmental Focus Group this fall convinced me that we should
have at least one more Hemlock. I’m glad that we did because as you’ll see, a lot of
talented writers stepped up to create one of our best issues.
Will this be our last issue? The founding purpose of the Environmental Focus Group
was to make environmentalism and the outdoors a central part of the culture and
identity of Lock Haven University. Given the changes that our university is going
through, I’m just not sure that the efforts of a faculty committee at LHU will have much
influence over the identity of the new university. Perhaps. But in any case, if this is our
last fire of the season, it’s been my pleasure to bring you the wonderful articles
submitted by our writers. ~Bob Myers
Apple Orchards: Sustainable Food, History and our Campus
~Heather Bechtold (Associate Professor, Biological Sciences)
If the original Garden of Eden had an
apple, then the garden would have been
located near the northernmost border of
China. Almaty “Apple Mountain” in
Kazakhstan is the ancestral home of the
original wild apple. Malus sieversii is the
great, great, great grandmother of our
modern domesticated types. Nowhere else
in the world do apples grow as a wild forest
but here. The Tian Shan mountain range
once harbored the greatest genetic diversity of wild type apples in the world, but
during WWI Russians used the fruit to make vodka and jam, then burned the forest
down for firewood.
Apples are now 1000 times less diverse than they were in 1904. This is evidenced by
historic records from arborists that cataloged 16,000 apple varieties in North American
nurseries. Today 86% percent of these varieties have been lost from the American table
and historic seedbanks. This loss is due to market demand for high sugar, crisp texture
and fruit that can be handled and transported long distances. Only a few hundred
varieties of apples are available commercially, and the majority of grocery store apples
arise from just 15 types. Our modern grocery stores have neatly arranged sections of
golden delicious, honey crisp, granny smiths and other varieties that are in fact, grafted
and cross bred from the holy Almaty grandmother pome.

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Apple Orchards are an important ecological and sustainable resource. The Homestead
Land Act (1860) gave American families 160 acres of land, with a requirement that
settlers plant orchards. Historic orchards in Pennsylvania are common and are typically
located on farmlands. They provide rich ecosystem services such as flowers for bees,
soil stability, carbon sinks (both CO2 and organic carbon), shade, food and a safe drink
for both wild and domesticate animals.
Understanding where our food comes from ecologically is related to food security. For
example, monocultures of crops (less diverse, one species type) are not resistant to
disease, weather, pests and even political upheaval—the Irish potato famine is an
infamous example of this. Heirloom varieties can enrich the genetic bank of these trees
and introduce new varieties to the market economy.
Orchards are low maintenance and long-lived. They can yield fruit in a little as 2 years
after planting and provide fruit year after year for decades. They require little human
care compared to growing, planting, and weeding annual vegetables. The trees are deep
rooted and resistant to local weather changes. The fruit can be turned into ciders, or
preserved by canning or pickling and given to farmers markets or food pantries. The
long-lasting nature of trees create a legacy of food availability and economic well-being.
Not only are orchards easy to take care of, but they create natural outdoor classrooms.
Fresh air, training in horticulture, pruning and grafting, and ecology lessons can easily
stem from this space. College campus orchards provide learning, research and
recreational opportunities for students and the community. Orchards are open spaces
with an ecological purpose, and create sustainable food from thin air (yes, CO2!).
Lock Haven may soon have an “Apple Mountain” orchard of its own. Trees and
volunteer time have been donated, and collaborations with the California and
Shippensburg campuses are currently in a planning phase. Both of these campuses have
orchards of their own with the goal of planting sister orchards on all 14 PASSHE
campuses. Martin Luther had timely words for this endeavor saying “Even if I knew that
tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree."
The Gray Fox
~Ralph Seeley
He had found a place in the forest that suited him very much. A windstorm had
knocked down many trees. Their trunks were scattered about, some on the ground and
some half down. Bushes and animal paths appeared in the open areas. He sat on his
haunches at a little rise of ground, eyes watching for movement.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 4

He had been watching a
rabbit moving around. He
was not hungry yet. But now
he saw something that made
him glad that he had not
moved out toward the rabbit:
a large tawny animal was
moving slowly through the
undergrowth. Another one
was behind. Wolves! He
crouched down. The lead
animal did not see him but
kept moving on a course.
Better be safe! He skittered
along the ground to the base of the tree that he had already noted as his safe place. A
leaner with rough bark, it was the best refuge around. He looked at the wolves. They
were not looking in his direction, and he quickly went up. But the noise of his claws
was heard by the wolves. They looked over at him, now 15 feet up in the tree, and
moved toward him.
At the base of the tree, they looked up and he looked down. All were silent. The eyes
of the wolves looked blank. They knew they could not climb the tree. After a bit, one
moved off. Then the other followed. They were now on a path going out of the area.
He watched until he could see them no more. He stayed in the tree. The birds had
started singing again, and the rabbit was moving about. He saw a deer moving along
on the same path by which the wolves left the area.
This tree is a very good lookout place. I don’t need to leave it for now. A hen turkey followed
by poults walked right under his tree. He did not move and the hen did not see him.
The poults are very attractive, but are they followed by another animal? He watched and saw
and heard nothing, so he went down the tree. He hurried off in the direction of the
turkey train and caught the last poult in his mouth. But the hen had seen him and now
came rushing at him. He dropped the poult and ran into the middle of a bush. The hen
circled the bush. The fox saw a wolf moving stealthily in for a kill. The hen saw it and
took off in a beating of wings, just out of the wolf mouth. The wolf turned in the
direction of the poults.
I’ve got to get up the tree. He scurried up. The wolf passed under the tree with a poult in
its mouth. Where is the wolf going? He could see it still, a hundred yards away. The
wolf stopped and began eating the poult. The hen turkey called for the remaining

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 5

poults to come to her. I can hear poults near by. There is time to get one. He looked all
around and saw no other danger. The wolf lay down, scratched an ear, and then
moved off out of sight. He went down the tree. He caught a poult and went back up
the tree. The best place around. The poult tasted good. He saw another gray fox moving
slowly along on the path, stopping and sniffing as it went. Male or female? I will go down
and trail it. If it is male, I will have to let it know that it is not welcome. Bark now for
attention? No, too soon.
I saw an odd creature that walked on two legs. It was long and tall. It had no hair on it except
at the top. Walking that way, it seemed large. It was carrying a long pole at the end of an upper
leg, held in long curved posts with no claws. It did not move quickly. It stopped and looked all
around. It did not seem to see me. Its eyes were black with white around. Its face was flat—no
place for teeth out ahead. The deer was scared and slipped into the bushes. I could see a wolf
looking at the creature. The creature looked at the wolf but the creature was not scared. The
wolf vanished around a tree. The creature looked up at me and I could tell that it saw me.
A very large dark bird came through the trees. It screamed a loud scream and then looked at the
odd creature from its perch. The creature raised the long pole with its upper leg and the large
bird took wing. Then I saw a yellow disk, or part disk, in another tree. I could make out a large
brown bird with odd tufts on its head. The odd creature swung the pole toward the bird. The
yellow disk disappeared and that bird also flew. Why are they all afraid of the odd creature? I
will have to be careful. It might come back. If the wolf was afraid then I should be also.
Author’s Note:
For those who are surprised at the idea that gray foxes can climb trees, look up the
following reference: Wildlife of Pennsylvania, by Charles Fergus, page 83. Stackpole
Books 2000. Charles Fergus is a native of State College. The very large bird was a
golden eagle and the bird with tufts and yellow eye disks was a great horned owl. The
last is one of the most rapacious of all creatures (page 223 of same book). Since it can
hunt at night it is able to kill other sleeping birds of any size. The golden eagle is a
powerful hunter, given to knocking off mountain sheep and goats that are too close to
an edge, then going down to tear the body apart with its talons and beak. Golden
eagles migrate through Centre County on a route between James Bay and Kentucky.
William Penn remarked that the native had a black eye—so if you ever see somebody
with a black eye, you might be looking at a full-blooded native—probably a person now
not to be found south of the far northern latitudes of Canada or Greenland. The long
pole was a musket.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 6

By Helping Eels Reach Their Destination, DEP is Improving Water Quality in the
Susquehanna River and the Chesapeake Bay
~Gregory Lenahan (DEP Deputy Digital Director)
For many years, hydroelectric dams have prevented American Eels from migrating up
the Susquehanna River. Recognizing the importance of eels to the ecosystem, the
Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection (DEP) and its partners have
come to their aid by transporting them past the dams and upstream, where their
symbiotic relationship with mussels helps to improve water quality in the Susquehanna
River and the Chesapeake Bay.
The Remarkable Migratory Journey of the American Eel
Eel migration has been described as a rather romantic tale. The American Eel (the
freshwater species found in Pennsylvania) begins life in the Sargasso Sea in the middle
of the North Atlantic Ocean. Carried by the Gulf Stream, young eels, known as elvers,
make their way to freshwater habitats including the Chesapeake Bay and the
Susquehanna River. After reaching maturity in 10 to 15 years, adult eels migrate
downstream returning to the Sargasso Sea. There, they spawn for the first and only time
in their lives and then die. But during its relatively brief lifetime, the American Eel plays
a vital role in the ecosystem, including acting as a host species for Eastern Elliptio
Mussels, the most common freshwater mussel found in the Susquehanna River. This
relationship is important because mussels naturally filter water which improves water
quality in places like the Susquehanna River and the Chesapeake Bay.
But early on in their migratory journey, eels face man-made challenges in the
Susquehanna River which not only impede their progress, but also threaten their
existence in the entire Susquehanna River Basin.
Caution: Roadblock Ahead
American Eels are native to Pennsylvania waters and at one time they were plentiful in
the Susquehanna River. However,
massive hydroelectric dams built
during the 1900’s effectively closed
the river to migratory fishes,
including the eel. While eels can
climb remarkable heights, the 94’
Conowingo Dam located on the
lower Susquehanna River in
northern Maryland proved
insurmountable for the elvers. Without elvers making their way up the Susquehanna,
eels basically disappeared from the Susquehanna River Basin in Pennsylvania. And

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 7

without eels to use as a host species, mussel populations in the upper regions of the
river also became nearly extinct.
The Link Between the American Eel and the Eastern Elliptio Mussel
Freshwater mussels rely on certain fish species, including eels, to reproduce. During the
final stages of reproduction, female mussels emit a parasitic larva (glochidium) which
attaches itself to the gills of an eel, its favorite host. The larvae drop off after 2 to 4
weeks to grow into juvenile mussels and finally, adult mussels which have lifespans of
up to 100 years. Since mussels continuously pump water through their bodies, an adult
mussel can filter and clean up to 15 gallons of water each day making their presence
vitally important to the health of Pennsylvania’s rivers and streams.
The presence of mussels or lack thereof, is one indicator of water quality and also of
society’s impact on their habitat since they are especially susceptible to many pollutants
and contaminants. In the early 2000’s scientists discovered that while mussels were
plentiful in the upper Susquehanna River, their population was aging. Without the
presence of eels to assist with their reproduction, fewer mussels were being born and
thus faced extinction in some areas of the Susquehanna. Recognizing the problems
dams and other hydroelectric facilities posed to eel migration and the benefits eels
provide to the ecosystem, DEP worked with dam owners as part of their recertification
process to provide passageways for eels and also to catch and transport them past the
dams.
Catch and Release: Hydroelectric Facility Recertification Helps Eels Detour Past the Roadblocks
Dams and other hydroelectric generation facilities must periodically undergo
recertification, a process which includes assessing the ecological impacts of operation
and how they can be mitigated. One such facility is the Muddy Run Pumped Storage
Project (Muddy Run). Muddy Run is a hydroelectric power plant located in Lancaster
County and owned by Exelon Corporation. Operation of this facility entraps the
American Eel as well as other aquatic species. Among the conditions for DEP issuing a
water quality certification to the facility in 2014, Exelon was required to implement a
program to trap up to one million eels per year from below the Conowingo Dam in
Maryland and in the Octoraro Creek in Pennsylvania, and release them to multiple
locations in the Susquehanna Watershed in Pennsylvania.
In 2015, Exelon installed eel trapping facilities along the western shore of the
Conowingo Dam and at Octoraro Creek below the Chester Water Authority Dam in
southern Chester County, PA. The collection devices consist of a ramp-style trap
leading to a collection tank at the top of the ramp. From the collection tank, the eels are
then transferred to holding tanks where they stay until being transported upstream.
Next the eels are moved from the holding tank to a transport vehicle equipped with an

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 8

insulated container that is covered and aerated. The eels are then taken to locations
along the Susquehanna River and released.
This most recent eel stocking effort builds upon similar efforts taken by the PA Fish and
Boat Commission (PFBC) during the 20th Century and more recently by the US Fish and
Wildlife Service.
Early Results in Restoring Eel and Mussel Populations Are Promising…
In 2020, over 250,000 eels were captured and released into the Susquehanna River. The
success of past and current efforts in trapping and transplanting eels has become
evident. DEP staff performing field work in the West Branch Susquehanna River and its
tributaries have seen a dramatic increase in eel populations in recent years. Other
agencies such as the Susquehanna River Basin Commission and the PFBC are seeing
similar results. Some eels have been recaptured as far as 140 river miles from the
nearest release location. Eels have now been observed in the headwaters of the
Susquehanna River near Cooperstown, New York. Additionally, researchers
monitoring tributaries that were stocked with eels have noted the presence of young
Eastern Elliptio mussels where they were previously absent.
In addition to the water quality benefits of mussel populations, recent studies suggest
that the eels are helping to ecologically balance aquatic benthic communities, such as
preying on the invasive Rusty Crayfish.
While these results are encouraging, the work of trapping and relocating eels must
continue until fish passage technology conducive to volitional eel passage can be
implemented at the dams. There are currently fish passage facilities known as fishways, at each of the four Hydroelectric Dams on the lower Susquehanna River.
Conowingo, Holtwood and Safe Harbor Dams, which are the first three dams moving
upriver, have fish lifts or elevators. However, these traditional types of fish lifts are not
effective at passing eels. The fourth, York Haven Dam, has a vertical slot fish ladder. As
a condition of recertification, dam owners must achieve certain targets for fish and eels
passing through and take corrective action if the targets are not met.
…But More Work Remains
Equally important to lifecycle of the American Eels is downstream passage as they find
their way back to the Sargasso Sea. The hydroelectric facilities and their powerful
turbines pose a danger to out-migrating eels. Eels can be injured or killed if they pass
through a dam’s powerhouse where the turbines are located. The DEP water quality
certifications issued for York Haven, Holtwood, and Muddy Run all contain provisions

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 9

for studying downstream eel passage success and will require measures to successfully
pass eels by their facilities.
The Migratory Journey of the American Eel Continues
For many years eels and mussels have been at risk for extinction in the Susquehanna
River Watershed in Pennsylvania primarily due to large-scale damming of rivers. DEP
and their partners have taken innovative measures to help the eels past these previously
impassable roadblocks. These efforts have helped to re-introduce two native species in
decline and in so doing, helped to improve water quality in the Susquehanna River and
the Chesapeake Bay. This project is yet another example of how DEP partners with
other organizations and businesses to help restore our natural resources and provide a
cleaner environment for all Pennsylvanians.
The Lions of Our Past
~Jim Hyland, DCNR Forester
“Are you sure it wasn’t an otter, a coyote, or a fisher?” I was prodding my friend with
alternative critters, but he wouldn’t budge. He was cycling on the Pine Creek Rail Trail
just a few miles north of Blackwell, when he’s sure that a mountain lion jumped down
onto the trail, paused, and then snuck into
the brush.
A sighting or two of Felis concolor, the
mountain lion, are reported to the district
forestry office or game commission every
year, and some are hard to dismiss,
especially when they come from people
known and trusted.
Here in the Pennsylvania Wilds, the last
bounty paid on a mountain lion, also known
as a painter, catamount, puma, or panther,
was paid in Clinton County in 1871. Despised for their reputation for killing livestock,
lions were shot or trapped for money as early as the 1600’s. But were all the lions really
killed?
By 1864, apparently the residents of Haneyville, Lycoming County, thought they were
all gone too. The story was told by Moses Button and Charlie Crawford, who lived on
the Long Mountain, near where the Haneyville ATV Trail is today, and appears in

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 10

Henry Shoemaker’s Black Forest Souvenirs, first published in 1914. A note of caution:
Mr. Shoemaker was known to embellish the truth a bit.
The story begins on a moonlit Christmas Eve in 1864, when people residing on the
mountain heard the screams of a mountain lion in the woods nearby. The sound
terrified them, as they had heard stories from days past about the huge ferocious cats
that their forefathers had to battle in their taming of the wilderness.
A hunt for the lion ensued, but was unsuccessful, and the residents began to think it
had moved on, or never existed. Then a week later the lion surprised two young men
on a horse drawn sled and chased them to safety in a barn. The hunt was on, and it
came to a conclusion when George Shover and Jake Zinck tracked the cat into a cave
near the top of Miller Run, in what is now the Miller Run Wild Area in the Tiadaghton
State Forest. The two men, afraid to enter the dark cave in pursuit, lit a smoky fire just
inside, and then sealed off the entrance. They camped and waited for the cat to
suffocate. The next day they reopened the cave and found the lion dead. It measured
11 feet from nose to tail, and as the story goes, they skinned it and fried up some of the
cat’s chops to celebrate.
An 1890 Williamsport Gazette article describes how one Joe Fenstmacher, who was a
dead shot and expert hunter from Slate Run, shot at and wounded a panther that was
lying on a rock outcrop near Slate Run’s headwaters. He too tracked it to a small cave,
and thinking it was dead, made the greedy mistake (bounties offered big bucks in those
days) of crawling about twelve feet into a confined space that he could not turn around
in. In what was described as “Egyptian darkness”, the wounded panther latched onto
his face with teeth and claws, and remained attached as the bleeding man backed out of
the cave. Once in daylight, Fenstmacher was able to kill the cat with his knife, but only
after a great struggle.
We've all heard modern mountain lion stories circulating through hunting camps, etc.,
and I admit to enjoying them very much. In recent history, over 5000 sightings have
been reported from 26 states east of the Mississippi. A fair number of those sightings
have been in Pennsylvania, especially in the north central counties, where sometimes a
Sasquatch is seen as well.
Researchers with the Cougar Network, a research group dedicated to documenting the
sightings of cougars outside of their normal range, have never been able to confirm, that
is, prove without a doubt, any of the Pennsylvania sightings. However, sightings have
been confirmed in Delaware (probably an escapee from captivity), New York, Kentucky,
Massachusetts, Minnesota, Connecticut and Vermont. In fact, the cougar killed by a

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 11

vehicle in Connecticut in 2011 had also been seen in NY and was confirmed through
DNA sampling to have traveled 1800 miles from a known lion population in the Black
Hills of South Dakota! In addition, there is very strong evidence that they are becoming
established in remote sections of the Carolinas and Virginias, and they are definitely
present in Florida and eastern Canada.
Given that they are so secretive, their senses so sharp, and their ranges so extensive, it
seems likely that they pass through our remote areas now and then. But it also seems
that if there were a breeding population of lions in this state, hunters would chance upon
confirmable tracks in the snow or mud, or one would be killed by a vehicle.
However, we must keep in the mind that in western states, where lions are known exist,
there are many life-long outdoorsmen who have never seen one! I knew an older
gentleman named Bob Webber. Bob and his wife Dotty had lived in a cabin in the
remote Black Forest of Lycoming County since 1961, until they passed away recently.
To keep active, Bob hiked and maintained over 100 of miles of backcountry hiking and
ski trails. To say the least, he was expert woodsman. Throughout all those years spent
alone in the most remote forests of Pennsylvania, he had never seen so much as a
cougar track in the snow. Yet others from “down country” claim to have seen one on
their very first visit to the area. So you be the judge.
Perhaps the one truth we can arrive at though, is that 21st century man's perception of
the natural world falls way short of what most professional hunting guides will admit.
Over the centuries and through the trappings of civilization, we have traded our sharp
senses for comfort.
Martin Sheen's reference to the North Vietnamese enemy soldiers in the movie
Apocalypse Now comes to mind: Each day Charlie squats in the bush he gets stronger.. ...each
day I sit in this hotel room I get weaker.... can be applied to our degraded ability to perceive
the natural world.
Once a part of it, we as a civilization have removed ourselves from it. We look in at it
from the perimeter. Maybe that's why we enjoy the outdoors so much, it’s our
unconscious struggle to get back on the inside.
Perhaps the moral of the story is that it does us well to get out in the woods and look
more closely….. spend a little more time in observation before retreating back to our
comforts. Maybe someday we’ll be able to once again see the lions of our past.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 12

Not Quite a “Big Easy”: Sport Management, Experiential Learning, and “Playoff
Green “in New Orleans
~Dain TePoel (Assistant Professor, Sports Studies)
In January of 2020, I had the opportunity to travel to New Orleans with a colleague and
20 students in the sport management major. We were there to volunteer and work at the
College Football Playoff National Championship (CFP) game and its surrounding
festivities. These kinds of trips are crucial for our students to network, gain professional
experience, develop skills, and establish a foothold in the industry.
As a teacher and researcher who studies the intersection between sport and the
environment, however, I was pleasantly surprised when I learned that part of our work
at the CFP would include participating in the
“Playoff Green” initiative. Playoff Green is a
collaboration between the host organizing
committee, the Green Sports Alliance (a nonprofit trade organization consisting of teams,
leagues, conferences, venues, corporations,
regulators, athletes, and fans dedicated to
environmental awareness and change),
ESPN, and other environmental
organizations and agencies. Their goal is to
twofold: to minimize the environmental
footprint of the national championship game
and its ancillary activities, and to create a positive, lasting “green” legacy in each CFP
National Championship host community.
As volunteers taking part in the initiative, students and faculty from sport management
programs across the country listened to a presentation delivered by representatives
from the Green Sport Alliance. Speakers delivered a heartfelt message about the
importance of sustainability in sports, and the role sport has to play in taking care of the
planet. They stressed how sport provides visibility and acts as a platform for social
change, notably in efforts related to gender equity, LGBTQ rights, and racial justice. In
this context, they argued that leagues, teams, athletes, and the media could do more to
educate and inspire the public on environmental issues.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 13

Throughout the presentation, we
learned that Playoff Green was a
serious operation with several
“Pillars” of action to mitigate and
reduce the event’s footprint. Most of
these actions took place behind the
scenes, such as food and material
recovery, donations, landfill
diversion, single-use plastic auditing
and analysis, a carbon footprint
assessment, and the sourcing of food
and beverage supplies. Our participation in the game-day aspects of Playoff Green
involved the fans more directly. Playoff Green tasked volunteers with two jobs: 1)
maximize the collection of recyclables throughout the New Orleans Superdome, and 2)
engage fans in recycling education and other Playoff Green environmental
programming.
Our LHU crew was assigned to collect recyclables (mostly aluminum beverage cans) in
the nosebleeds. We were told to fill trash bags with recyclables from fans in our
assigned sections, physically walking up and down the narrow and steep steps, going
to them rather than waiting for them to discard their containers. We collected items
before the game, but also more carefully during the contest while trying not to interrupt
the fan experience. Playoff Green leaders emphasized that the ability to continue these
kinds of efforts in the future depended on how this went over with the fans.
Apparently, the powers that be in college football were reluctant to approve the
recycling initiative – a first – wary of complaints from the fans. We tiptoed (quite
literally at times due to the narrow steps) during timeouts, commercials, and other lulls
in the action which were few and far between. They typically lasted a few minutes at
most. Hurrying, I was able to climb up and down the rows, obtain a few items, and
duck back out of sight.
Not too many fans in my section were all that interested in the recycling efforts. At best,
a few individuals and groups very politely thanked me and handed over their stuff. At
worst, some yelled at me to get out of the way and even disapproved, indicating a
preference to place their cans in the trash rather than the recycling bin.
I am not convinced that most realized we were part of an environmental initiative.
Some thought we were custodians, or waitstaff to deliver food and drinks. It was
confusing, noisy, and chaotic once the game was underway. Tens of thousands of
southern college football fans (where college football is religion) were there to cheer
their team to a national championship. Tickets cost hundreds to thousands of dollars.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 14

Emotions (and alcohol consumption) ran high. For some, maybe it was a once in a
lifetime experience, and they wanted to immerse in every moment with friends and
family.
As a sports fan, I get it. They did not want to be disturbed. It was a very close game
until late. They were there to witness the big plays and moments live in person as they
occurred. No one wants to tell their kids and grandkids they missed the big play that
won it all because they were tossing their soda bottle and nachos into the right can.
In an era when something as mundane as recycling is political, Playoff Green and the
Green Sport Alliance have a tall task in recruiting fans to participate in environmental
initiatives, especially during a big game. Americans consume food and beverages
during sporting events in astonishing quantities. Super Bowl Sunday is second only to
Thanksgiving in this regard. What shocked me the most was how many full or nearly
full cans remained in the seats after fans had filed out of the stadium. After several
hours of trying to divert materials from the landfill to recycling, until nearly 2 a.m., one
word stuck with me: waste.
We did our best. Many students had better experiences in their sections and were more
optimistic about their work. Some competed to see who could fill the most bags. In full
disclosure, the top performers easily doubled my output. Without the game-day fan
recycling initiative, who knows how many additional pounds of recycling would have
ended up in the landfill.
The Green Sport Alliance and Playoff Green are successful for making inroads toward
environmental sustainability in the sporting arena. While it was not perfect, the
initiative is hardly an example of greenwashing. The organizers adopted a
comprehensive approach that incorporated sustainability throughout the event in terms
of food, water, energy, waste, and more. Representing industry, the Alliance is correct
about the potential of sport to raise awareness and mobilize for environmental causes.
Educators have a role in increasing that potential. For those in higher education,
environmental issues and initiatives can be a meaningful and productive pathway to
“real-world,” professional experiences. In sport management, teaching about the
relationship between sport and the environment offers a bridge between research and
those working in the industry who are trying to lead and integrate sustainability into
their operations. In many cases apart from the CFP, managerial inaction on
environmental practices is due to a lack of knowledge or know-how, superseded by a
focus on winning and the economic bottom line. While we can’t convince every diehard fan to dispose of their can properly, we can help students, many of them fans
themselves and future mangers, begin to see the links between sport, natural resources,
and sustainability.

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 15

Increasing awareness about the extent of the impact of sport as a contributor to
environmental problems, but also as a promoter of solutions, is a first step. Inclusion of
the environment in sport management curriculum reinforces the importance of
organizational action. It also engages students by allowing them to critically analyze
their position, and prompts thinking as to what they will do when faced with these
issues in the workplace.
Teaching and learning about how the environment relates to sport through hands-on
experience fulfills several aspects of our institutional mission, including professional
development. Incorporating environmental perspectives helps students to be
responsible citizens and leaders in a global, technologically advanced industry that is
changing due to the climate. When we talk about these societal and ecological shifts in
class, we are preparing students for what the sport industry and world will be, more so
than what it is right now. Such a focus might ensure the long-term sustainability of their
favorite sports for generations to come.
I’ll toast (and recycle) to that.
Continuation
~Bob Myers
On March 16, 2020, in the midst of the pandemic that has killed so many, my 13-yearold dog, Max died. Eight days later my 20-year-old cat, Oscar died. Learning how to
accept their deaths has been one of the most difficult things I’ve experienced.
Max was the greatest dog I’ve ever known. He was a German Shorthair Pointer, and if
you know anything about the breed, they are HIGH energy. I often say that my
enthusiasm for the outdoors and environmentalism began when I got Max because we
spent so much time running him in the woods. He had an amazing heart—even when
he was old and arthritic, he would keep up with us on tough bushwhacks up the
mountains of Pennsylvania. When we found out that he had bone cancer in his leg, it
was terrible to think that this dog who loved to run more than anything would lose one
of his legs. But we went through with the surgery and had a great 9 months to spend
some final times with Max. My wife and I are vegetarians, but Max ate a lot of steak
during this period. I bought a wagon so that I could take him with us on backpacking
trips, and even then, he would often get out and walk for as long as he could. The dog
had heart.
But in March he developed a horrible cough that indicated that the cancer had spread to
his lungs, and we knew that we couldn’t let him suffer. Finally, I called the vet and

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 16

made the appointment. That day I took him for one final walk and then drove him to
the vet, crying the entire time. The people in the office were wonderful—many of them
were crying because they had come to know Max over the years. The vet explained that
he would give him two shots—one to numb him and the second to stop his heart. After
he administered the second shot, he listened with his stethoscope. It seemed to take
forever for Max’s heart to finally stop. Finally, he nodded at me, and I stumbled out to
my car.
I've had a pretty charmed life in terms of losing people close to me--my parents are
alive and most of the people I've know who have died were really old, so this was one
of the few times that I've had to come to terms with mortality. I spent a lot of time
crying when Max’s picture would come up on my screen saver, and I listened to a lot of
music. One song in particular meant a lot to me: Levon Helm's cover of Bruce
Springsteen's "Atlantic City." The chorus is, "Everything dies, baby, that's a fact. But
maybe everything that dies someday comes back." Another one that got me through
was “Lazarus” by moe. I'm not especially religious but the Biblical story of Lazarus,
who dies and then is brought back to life by Jesus made me think that Max might come
back in some form.
In the first few days after Max died, I kept seeing wildlife on my walks—animals I’ve
never seen, and in places where I’ve never seen them. I remember one foggy morning
suddenly looking up and seeing a huge buck in the fog, not 20 yards from me. I said,
“Hi Max” because I knew it was him. He was such a wild animal that we always
described him as a “barely civilized wolf.” The buck bounded away, but I knew that
Max’s wildness was still there.
After our cat died, my wife and I insisted that we didn't want another pet--that lasted
about a week until a friend sent us pictures of a new litter of German Shorthair Pointers.
We knew right away that we wanted one. We went to visit the breeder and instantly fell
in love with one of the pups. We had many discussions about potential names while we
were waiting for him to get old enough to take home. I wanted to call him "Lazarus,"
but my wife thought that was a bit heavy. We both knew that we didn't want to call him
Max. Finally, we settled on "Levon" after Levon Helm--as I said, Levon's song helped
get me through the darkest times. It's also Arminian for "Lion," which is the name of my
favorite literary dog in William Faulkner's "The Bear," and there's a scene in that book
similar to my experience with the buck. Maybe everything someday comes back.
We finally got to take him home when he was 8 weeks old, and Levon has transformed
our lives. He loves to run, and he looks very similar to Max--brown head, speckled, but
he has a heart-shaped spot on his side—Max’s amazing heart. His personality is

The Hemlock 14.1 (Fall 2021), page 17

different too--he's actually pretty bad—whoops--wild, but we love him regardless. I
keep telling people that he's not a replacement for Max, but a continuation. Maybe
that's as much as we can hope for.

Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Jeff Walsh, Elizabeth Gruber, Joby Topper, Michael McSkimming,
Heather Bechtold, Dain TePoel, Md. Khalequzzaman, Tara Remick, Barrie Overton,
Todd Nesbitt, Jamie Walker, Amy Kutay, LaKeisha Knarr, Stephen Lee, Lynn Bruner,
and David Graefe. The committee is charged with promoting and supporting activities,
experiences, and structures that encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a
stronger sense of place for Lock Haven University and central Pennsylvania. Such a
sense of place involves a stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism),
meaningful outdoor experiences, and appreciation for the heritage of the region.