Iowa’s energy past, present and future

'You didn't have to live in the dark.” That was my father's initial response when I opposed the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL). Although only 26 years apart in age, my father and I were raised in vastly different energy-dependent worlds. During his boyhood on a farm in southeastern Iowa, he relied on Aladdin and kerosene lamps for lighting and horses for transportation and farm work. Over the years, the technology progressed to electric lights, motored cars and tractors.

My father's complaint about the 'dark ages” referred to nights lit by lamps, which emit 1 percent of the light of 100-watt incandescent bulbs. It also relates to the social isolation that was a part of Iowa farm life in the 1930s. My father's childhood reached as far as he could see from the upper limbs of the black walnut tree in the front yard and as far as he could walk through the fields. Today my dad watches televised news streamed in 24/7, but back then his connection to the outside world was evening radio shows and stories from visiting relatives. That was before the New Deal electrified rural Iowa and improved travel by leveling and graveling muddy farm-to-market roads.

My father's home place lays between that of his great-grandparents Abraham and Mary Josephine (Millice) Rodgers to the west and Henry Harrison and Delpha Ann (Hoover) Glasscock to the east. Each of these families moved near the South Skunk River in Spring Creek Township, Mahaska County, largely due to energy. Abraham came in 1843 with his father and grandfather, who staked a claim along the river to build a mill. The energy of the river cut timber and ground grist for pioneers near and far. In the winter, it provided ice that was stored and used to refrigerate food throughout the year. The Hoovers initially lived near the source of Spring Creek but eventually purchased acreage near the river because it had the timber needed for firewood and building. An old saying is firewood heats you twice, first when cutting and then when burning.

The discussion with my father about living in the dark was sparked by letters and phone calls in late 2014 notifying our family that we were affected landowners of the proposed Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL), which could carry up to 570,000 barrels of crude oil daily from the Bakken fields of North Dakota. The company claimed the pipeline would lessen America's dependence on foreign oil.

I said we don't need and shouldn't rely on oil, especially fracked oil, because we have alternate energy sources that won't contribute to global warming. The photovoltaic (PV) panels on the roof of my house produce more energy than I use. PV panels and an energy audit reduced our church's fossil-fuel energy usage by more than 50 percent. Iowa windmills were used widely to pump water at farms. Today, wind turbines produce more than 25 percent of Iowa's generated electricity. My father soon agreed DAPL was not necessary and not a good idea.

Unfortunately, community efforts to stop the pipeline have not yet succeeded and construction is currently moving forward. The pipeline's path crosses the South Skunk River about 125 feet from the northeastern border of our property. A swath of forest has been permanently cleared to accommodate it. If the DAPL project is not shut down, what added collateral damage will it cause?

Our property is already boxed in by several other energy-related infrastructure each with its own problem. The DAPL route parallels a high voltage electrical line whose right of way falls partially on our property. The power line emits a continuous, unnerving crackling sound. There is some controversy on the human health risk from prolonged exposure to the electrical and magnetic frequencies associated with these high voltage power lines. To the northwest, three liquid natural gas (LNG) pipelines cross the river and run parallel to our property. The LNG right of way was originally forest but now is covered by invasive canary grass, which has made its way into our flood plain timber. In the southwest corner of our property, a nearby abandoned coal mine causes toxic-looking, discolored water to puddle in a field we've seeded with native prairie grass.

Even though my father complains about the old lamp-lit days, one of his fond memories is basked in its glow. When Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan were guest speakers at the Spring Creek women's club monthly meeting held at a neighbor's house, my father and the other children were removed to the kitchen and from the doorway watched the women in the living room gathered under the glow of the Aladdin lamps. That memory is more inviting to me than the nightmare of an oil spill and the numerous projected impacts of climate change. Better yet I have a dream of banks and the local and federal governments investing $3.8 billion to support alternate energy for America so Iowa and the nation can be truly self-sufficient. Darkness, dependency or DAPL are not our only choices. We need a 21st century vision of energy. A windmill on every rural lot and PVs on every urban roof would create jobs and provide direct public benefit and convenience to Iowa.

' Sylvia (Rodgers) Spalding is a seventh-generation Iowa pioneer descendant who manages her family's farm and forest reserve along the South Skunk River in Mahaska County.