In Memory of Kay Kerr

This week, the Bay Area lost a seminal figure in California's -- and the nation's -- environmental movement.  Catherine Kerr - Kay to everyone who knew her - died last weekend in her East Bay home at the age of 99.  Fifty years ago, Kay was one of the three founders of Save The Bay, along with Esther Gulick and Sylvia McLaughlin.  These three remarkable women were outraged at the rampant filling of San Francisco Bay.  Already one third smaller than it was at the start of the Gold Rush, the Bay was vanishing rapidly under an endless onslaught of dump trucks and garbage trucks.  At the time, there were 40 active garbage dumps IN the Bay.  And there was a serious proposal to bulldoze San Bruno Mountain to create an island of Bay fill the size of Manhattan.  The economic forces behind this destruction were formidable.  But so was Kay.

In 1961, Kay, Esther and Sylvia -- for years known as "the ladies" (no names were required) - called that first meeting in the Berkeley hills.  They intended to galvanize others into leading the movement to end Bay fill.  But David Brower, the legendary head of the Sierra Club, announced that a new organization was needed.  That night, Save The Bay was born and the ladies were surprised to find themselves pioneering environmental activists.  This was half a century ago - before the publication of "Silent Spring" and nine years before Earth Day.  The environmental movement we know today didn't exist.  1961 was before the "sixties" and before most women entered the workforce.  Kay never drew a salary for her work.  She was a tireless, full-time, volunteer activist for decades.  The group she founded was the first coastal protection organization in the country.  And the creation of the Bay Conservation and Development Commission (first as a study commission in 1965 and then as a permanent regulatory agency in 1969) stopped Bay fill and represented the nation's first major coastal protection victory.

Journalist Hal Gilliam said many years ago that these three women didn't know that it was impossible to stop the filling of the Bay.  And because they didn't know it was impossible -- they went ahead and did it.  Kay did her work in an old-fashioned way.  She seldom appeared at public hearings.  Instead, she would summon people - - there's no other word for it -- to have tea and cookies at her home.  Everyone from Save The Bay staff (including me) to agency directors and legislators grew familiar with Kay's polite but firm tone and her steely gaze.  Stopping Bay fill took a will of iron - and Kay certainly had one.  Everyone who finished tea with Kay knew exactly what was expected of them.  Having 20,000 passionate members to back her up helped too.

But stopping Bay fill was only the most famous of her accomplishments.  In 1961, there were only four miles of public access to the Bay - along hundreds of miles of shoreline.  In the city of Richmond, with more than a dozen miles of waterfront, there were just 65 feet where the public could reach the Bay -- a resource owned by the public.  The ladies knew that building shoreline trails, fishing piers, viewing areas, boat ramps and parks was the key to building public appreciation of this magnificent ecosystem and support for its protection.  For years, Kay worked tirelessly for that access.  Progress was often slow.  She would spend hours advocating for a trail just a foot or two wider, for one more public parking space for families and the elderly, or for a bench to allow people to stop to appreciate the view.  Today, the Bay is ringed with dozens of parks and over 500 miles of trails that are used each year by millions of residents and visitors.  Kay's vision made that possible.  She knew what few others knew at the time -- that Bay protection and parks were investments in the region's quality of life and economic future.

I was lucky enough to work with Kay for many years, starting when she hired me as a green (in both senses of the word) idealistic graduate from her husband's university.  (I left Save The Bay 15 years later to join NRDC.)  But Kay shaped my perspective on the environment well before I met her.  I'm a Bay Area kid - and my parents joined Save The Bay when I was a year old.  (They're still members.)  Today, I also sit as a commissioner on the Bay Conservation and Development Commission - one of hundreds of people Kay taught to be advocates for the Bay. 

Being a leader of a lasting movement requires brains, dedication and passion.  Few met that challenge better than Kay.  Half a century later, Save The Bay is still going strong.  So is the equally indefatigable Sylvia McLaughlin.

In the Bay Area this weekend, the weather should be lovely.  If you live here, take your family for a walk along the shore.  And take a moment to thank Kay, Esther and Sylvia for the Bay we all love and the parks and trails that will foster that appreciation for generations to come.  No one could ask for a greater legacy. 

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