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THE
AMERICAN
SOCIETY OF
LANDSCAPE
ARCHITECTS
FOUNDED
1899
published by
Blue Ridge Parkway
Appalachian Consortium
American Society of Landscape Architects
�The Appalachian Consortium was a non-profit educational organization
composed of institutions and agencies located in Southern Appalachia. From
1973 to 2,004, its members published pioneering works in Appalachian studies
documenting the history and cultural heritage of the region. The Appalachian
Consortium Press was the first publisher devoted solely to the region and many of
the works it published remain seminal in the field to this day.
With funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and the National
Endowment for the Humanities through the Humanities Open Book Program.;
Appalachian State University has published new paperback and open access
digital editions of works from the Appalachian Consortium Press.
www.collections.library.appstate.edu/appconsortiumbooks
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND license. To view a
copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses.
Original copyright © 1987 by the Appalachian Consortium Press.
ISBN (pbk.: alk. Paper): 978-1-4696-4216-1
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-4696-4218-5
Distributed by the University of North Carolina Press
www.uncpress.org
�INTRODUCTION
This is a story of the forming of landscape. It is the tale of the making
of one of man's greatest achievements in the 20th century. It is a story
of boldly remaking the land but also it is an illustration of how man
can fit delicately into the land with minimum impact.
The design and construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway is an illustration of the kind of quality possible in an enlightened democracy. It is
the true example of how a society can properly care for its land and its
people.
The actual design and construction is an illustration of quality which
can result from inspired teamwork. Each person involved carried out
his role with diligent commitment, from the man in charge of design to
the craftsman working on the smallest detail.
Further, this linear environment is a prime illustration of the landscape
architect's skills. It beautifully demonstrates this profession's goal of
blending man's needs into nature's systems. The resultant experience
clearly shows how man can enhance the beauty of nature and maximize its potentials with careful and artful planning.
The linear experience allows us to fully explore and understand a
landscape. It is a quality example of how to restore the beauty of a land
and yet allow thousands to move through the environment. The environment created is an example to be followed in how to manage an
environment over time.
Hopefully, this story will be an inspiration to those who wish to create
quality environments. This story should be required reading for all
those who wish to learn how man can design quality landscapes.
Roger Martin
President, ASLA
3
�$o conserve VKe scenery and VKe
naVural and historic otyccVs and
VKe uKld U/e Hxerem and Vo ^ro\)tde
/or Vlie enjoxjmenV of Vhe ^ctmem
5uch manner and by such mean$
d5 uhll leax^e Vhem unlm^atred/orHie
enjotjmenV of/uVure^encraVton^
From the Act of August 25, 1916 establishing the Park Service.
�TO EVERYTHING THERE
IS A SEASON
Civilized man has been prone to
conjure up a maxim or a saying to
reflect the prevailing philosophy of
the day. Two of those familiar favorites readily apply to the world famous Blue Ridge Parkway: "Beauty
is in the eye of the beholder" and
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."
Even with these two maxims in
mind it is extremely difficult today
to properly appreciate the awesome
mission given to those who
pioneered the location, design, and
landscaping of some five hundred
miles of the nation's first rural national highway—along a route
where magnificent, heavily forested
mile-high mountains had been
gashed by erosion, or exploited for
commercial development.
Such, nevertheless, was the assignment and the challenge afforded a
handful of young landscape architects in the early 1930's. Construction of a thing of beauty—a scenic
parkway linking the Shenandoah
and the Great Smoky Mountains
National Parks—was one answer
proposed that could give employment at the moment as well as create
beauty for future travelers. To Stanley W. Abbott, the man who was to
administer development of this
piece of "managed American countryside," Parkway location posed a
creative challenge, because, in his
words, "You worked with a ten-
league canvas and a brush of a comet's tail."
Another maxim augured well for
success. The ancient preacher in the
Book of Ecclesiastes centuries ago
declared that "To everything there is
a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven . . . a time to
plant... a time to h e a l . . . a time to
gather stones together. . . ."(3:1).
This observation was uniquely and
richly fulfilled in development of
the Blue Ridge Parkway.
Parkway construction was fostered
by seven events, which suddenly
were fitted together like finely calibrated cogs in a complex machine.
First was the creation of the second
and third National Parks located in
the eastern United States: the Shenandoah in Virginia and the Great
Smoky Mountains National Park in
North Carolina and Tennessee, as a
result of an Act of Congress in 1926
which authorized their establishment.
Second, the Great Depression provided a time of emergency and a
season of obligation to provide relief
for large numbers of unemployed in
the mountain region. Solutions included two items essential to the
Parkway story—the initial appropriation of $4,000,000 to fund the
Public works proposal on December
19, 1933, and the host of relieffunded laborers, in numbers suffi-
Typical scene along route of the Parkway prior to its construction.
cient to have brought joy even to
those monumental tasks undertaken
by an Egyptian Pharaoh's slave
driver!
Third, the Great Depression brought
to power leaders who were both
able and willing to experiment, to
innovate, and to expedite Federal
programs previously not politically
acceptable, men like Harry F. Byrd,
Theodore E. Straus, and Harold L.
Ickes.
Fourth, the time and the season
were right because nation-wide
depression made available the talents of highly trained but temporarily idled engineers and landscape
architects whose multiple skills
could be turned to productive ends
by assigning them to help plan the
Parkway.
Fifth, because of the hard times, the
political leaders of North Carolina,
Tennessee, and Virginia were sufficiently astute politically to appreciate the economic impact the national parkway would have upon
their States, hence they were willing
to offer their fullest cooperation.
Sixth, the recent construction of the
"Skyline Drive" in the Shenandoah
National Park and a series of parkways in New York had demonstrated
the feasibility and utility of parkways.
�Finally, the recreational habits of
the American motoring public had
led to insistent demands for access
to scenic highways uncluttered by
commercial traffic.
For these reasons, then, the time
and the season for the conception
and construction of America's first
rural national parkway were reaching fruition. Although there were no
precedents for such a rural parkway
there were certain precisely stated
guidelines to which it must conform
as stated in the Organic Act which
officially established the National
Park Service in 1916. All units in
the system were obligated to "conserve the scenery and the natural
and historic objects and the wildlife
therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner
and by such means as will leave
them unimpaired for the enjoyment
of future generations."
Assignment of the project to the
National Park Service also had a
"time and season" element because
Harold L. Ickes, Secretary of the
Interior, had primary administrative
responsibility for both the National
Park Service and the Public Works
Program which was to supply the
construction force. This routine
occurence was of additional significance, because it forced the scenic
highway and all of its environs to
conform to the above stated National
Park Service standards, rather than
to the minimal requirements of an
ordinary highway.
Great Smoky Mountain National
Park first made newspaper headlines on September 23,1933. The
project, assigned to the National
Park Service, received its initial
allotment of $4,000,000 in December, 1933, providing work for thousands of mountaineers who otherwise would have been left out of the
relief programs. It also established
a permanent scenic highway for
promoting tourism and national recreation.
On December 26, 1933, Stanley W.
Abbott reported for duty as Acting
Superintendent and Resident Landscape Architect, a post he held for
the next decade. It was his responsibility to supervise and administer
one of the most spectacular landscape programs this nation has ever
witnessed. Time and season were
well met in this Cornell graduate,
who came endowed with the multiple talents of a modern day Renaissance man. His artistic and literary skills were richly supplemented
by a highly innovative and visionary
mind. Coming to the Parkway assignment fresh from an apprenticeship with the New York Westchester
County Parks program, he already
knew the remarkable healing effect
a wisely pursued landscape pro-
gram could achieve. Before chief
planner Gilmore Clarke worked
magic on it, the Bronx River area
merited this description: "Its deeper
reaches were cesspools, its shallower reaches spread into mosquitoey swamps. The banks presented
quaint perspectives of rotting wagons, coal-yards, gray old shacks,
and heaps of tin cans; a menace to
health, a detriment to community
prosperity and a sickening waste of
potential beauty." In fact, a description of the Westchester County Parks
system is strikingly fitting for the
new scenic parkway created by Abbott: "Intelligence has been unsparingly employed throughout; but it
was flexible, malleable intelligence,
as intimately bound up with particular circumstances as a scheme for
playing a bridge-hand."
This "malleable intelligence,"
aroused during the 1920Js, helped
change a repulsive eye-sore into
a model park and parkway system
with landscaped motor-ways, rough
masonry bridges and overpasses,
golf links, swimming pools,
beaches, playgrounds, picnic sites,
and amusement parks, finally integrated into a thing of beauty and
high recreational value. As a result,
much that is today considered dis-
This cultural and environmental
sensitivity had characterized National Park philosophy from its beginning, in Yellowstone National
Park. The man who is credited with
helping develop the first park roads,
General Hiram M. Chittenden, also
fathered the dictum which has ever
since guided road construction in
our national parks: "All park roads
must lie lightly upon the land." So,
in 1933, under the social and political pressures of the Great Depression, a road "lying lightly upon the
land" was to prove to be one of the
most unique and most enduring of
curative projects undertaken among
a variety of responses.
Historically, the proposal to construct a scenic highway linking the
Shenandoah National Park with the
6
Section of page from landscaping development master plan.
�tinctly characteristic of the Blue
Ridge Parkway had its genesis in
the Westchester County program,
where engineers and landscape architects had pioneered the principles of parkway construction. Instead of revamping old existing
roadways they took new routes,
closed them to commercial traffic,
bought wide strips on both sides of
the route to insulate it from undesirable development, cleaned up the
river scene and adjacent countryside with sod and plantings, and
incorporated controlled concession
operations and parks throughout
the system to eliminate shoddy hotdog stands and other tourist traps.
These accomplishments were fresh
in Stanley W. Abbott's mind when
he was assigned this task of creating
a five hundred mile scenic highway
out of land that had felt the ravages
of misuse for many years.
The lack of pristine, park-like conditions along the route was vividly
illustrated by one of Abbott's earliest
reports: "Few of the show places of
the parkway environs remain in
an unspoiled natural state. The predominance of cut-over forests, cultivated farm land, and the commer-
cialization of the few protected
scenic types have greatly reduced
the recreation values. There is a
total absence of natural lakes and
the muddy condition of the streams
and rivers in all seasons due to erosion has nullified the outstanding
beauty of these water features. This
general condition emphasizes the
need for public purchase and restoration if this area is to regain its one
time attractiveness."
"Public purchase and restoration"
were key ingredients in the Parkway
story. The states through which the
route ran were obligated to purchase
all necessary lands and donate them
to the Federal government for necessary construction and scenic restoration.
Before this could be achieved, however, there came a mighty struggle
to determine the general location of
the Parkway. Original projection
had proclaimed that Virginia, North
Carolina, and Tennessee would
share relatively equal portions of it,
every mile involving precious construction and employment funds as
well as continuing income from
tourism. Thus, location of the route
became highly politicized, with
each state earnestly seeking maximum mileage, as demonstrated by
the zealous pursuit of the route by
North Carolina.
To help settle the squabble, Abbott
and Gilmore D. Clarke were assigned the task of evaluating all
possible routes and making recommendations. Both men came from
Westchester County Parks program,
and Clarke had recommended Abbott for the new parkway position.
Over a five month period, working
very closely with Thomas C. Vint,
Chief Architect of the National Park
Service, they analyzed all proposed
routes, then filed their findings and
recommendations with the Director
of the National Park Service on June
8, 1934.
Abbott's report provides an intriguing insight into his earliest thinking
about the Parkway. In his opening
statement he declared that several
attitudes could be taken as to the
primary purposes of the project,
including;
1. Movement of traffic between
parks.
2. Scenic character of the roadside.
3. Recreational advantages enroute.
4. Economic influence.
While stressing that the relative
importance of each of these factors
would vitally affect the whole question of location, he also felt that one
set of requirements might place the
location entirely in the mountains
whereas another might place it entirely in the broad valleys. He then
listed four possibilities:
"1. The primary purpose of the
Parkway could well be the
movement of traffic in a fast,
pleasant route, by-passing the
centers of population.
Laborers from Works Progress Administration and other depression era programs performed much of the hand work necessary to
build and landscape the Parkway.
�00
WESTCHESTER COUNTY PARK COMMISSION ORGANIZATION
1932
�SYSTEM ON DESIGN OF BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY
The Westchester County Park
System (see map at right) greatly
influenced the early design and
the ultimate look of the Blue
Ridge Parkway. Several names
from the organization chart on
the opposite page appear on
similar charts for the Blue Ridge
Parkway. Of particular note is
the name Stanley W. Abbott,
listed in the Public Information
box. Though only a young man,
he became the first Resident
Landscape Architect and Acting
Superintendent of the Blue
Ridge Parkway.
When he accepted his duties as
the Landscape Architect for the
Parkway, he brought with him
a willingness to experiment and
expand on this new idea of a
rural parkway.
/
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PARKS, PARKWAYS c RESERVATIONS jg
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WESTCHESTER COUNTY
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3
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r.MVMWrtu CouNry PARK G»MM»?SION
BHOKXVIU.E NEW YORK
Jimr, 1032
9
�Comparing the bridges of the
Westchester County Parks
System with those of the Blue
Ridge Parkway demonstrates
many similarities. In these two
sets of drawings, the bridges for
the Hutchinson River Parkway
in Westchester County are on the
left, and those for some Blue
Ridge Parkway bridges are on
the right.
The single arch bridges on the
top of both pages resemble each
other closely. The primary
difference is in the profile of the
top edges. The one on the right
shows a smooth line from end to
end. Compare it to the drawing
at top left.
Different perspectives of the
same bridges appear at the
bottom of the pages, taken from
opposite sides and at different
times. Again, there are clear
similarities in appearance in
corresponding photographs.
These photographs also portray
clearly the effect of landscape
architecture around the bridge
approaches. The middle
photograph was taken twenty
years earlier than the one on the
bottom, after the landscape
architects had worked their
magic.
10
�Twin arch bridge at milepost 215.8, near
Cumberland Knob, Va. Photograph
taken early 1950's.
Twin arch bridge at milepost 215.8, near
Cumberland Knob, Va. Photograph
taken August 1974.
11
�million visitors annually would
derive enjoyment from that mountain parkway!
The route proposed by Stanley Abbott deliberately avoided the monotony of driving
500 miles of ridgeline. Instead it utilized slopes and valleys to contrast with the
portions along the ridges.
2.
If the Parkway were to be primarily a scenic route it would
be desirable to connect and
make available all the outstanding scenic areas within the region concerned.
3.
If recreation were the dominant
purpose, it would be desirable
to locate the route near the areas
of greatest recreational value.
4.
The location of such a project
might well be undertaken with
a view of raising the economic
value of a certain region."
Keeping in mind that it was, first of
all, a park-to-park connector, he
declared that the Parkway should be
as "directional as possible consistent with its location in interesting
territory." This was to insure that
the traveler would have a sense of
directon toward his destination,
plus sensing that he was traveling
on the shortest line between two
parks. Abbott also emphasized that
the Parkway would have to include
not only a high standard of design
but a variety of scenic, historical,
and native interest features. To
achieve this, he stated, "The location of the road, therefore, in combined woodlands, over rolling hill,
along small creeks, in the broader
river valley, as well as in varied relationship to the mountains is desirable. . . . Similarly, it will be helpful
to introduce historical features and
occasional pictures of the native
country life."
12
Based upon these criteria, he and
his colleagues offered their recommendation that "the Virginia-North
Carolina-Tennessee route, which
would begin at Shenandoah Park,
pass by the Peaks of Otter, the Pinnacles of Dan, Grandfather Mountain, cross to the Unakas and on to
the Great Smokies, be selected."
This was basically a mountain route
utilizing ridges, slopes, and valleys,
which, Abbott emphasized, was
not an actual skyline drive, but
rather one which deliberately
avoided a route that clung to the
ridgeline the entire way on the
premise that the traveler would soon
become satiated with the skyline
views. He contended that "a mountain or skyline road is distinctly a
type to be developed within a park
such as Shenandoah National Park
and the idea is not adaptable in this
region to a 500 mile park to park
connection."
Nevertheless, he and Vint, recommended that careful consideration
be given to a valley route before a
final decision was made on the recommended mountain location. Such
routing, they pointed out, would be
more direct, less expensive, have
better alignment, could better serve
through passenger traffic, and could
provide easy access to scenic attractions along the way. One of their
strong arguments in favor of the
valley route was the fear that there
would not be sufficient traffic on the
mountain parkway to justify the
expense of construction. They, of
course, had no way of knowing that
half a century later some twenty
While developing his routing recommendations, Abbott had discovered a major difference between his
park-to-park project and the Westchester County park system: politicians would openly intervene and
wield masterful influences upon the
former whereas the Westchester
program had been remarkably free
from political interference. In fact,
both of Abbott's recommendations—
the valley route and a VirginiaNorth Carolina-Tennessee route—
were quickly disregarded because of
political influences so powerful that
they reached all the way to the
White House. After much debate,
lobbying, and political infighting,
the proposed parkway was routed,
by decree of Secretary Ickes, solely
through Virginia and North Carolina, leaving Tennessee with zero
mileage and much resentment.
Thus, Abbott began his program
with a strike-out, though no fault of
his, and it was not to be the last
time that his recommendation
would be ignored in favor of another
because of political intervention.
On the positive side, the five months
Abbott spent in exploring and analyzing the potentially acceptable
routes thoroughly familarized him
with the climate, geography, topography, natural history, and cultural
atmosphere of his new domain. He
was greatly impressed by the changing topography, the mountains "becoming larger and steeper," the
sharp escarpments and broad plateaus, and with what he called the
"heroic" mountains at the south
end of the Parkway. The variety and
magnitude of developmental possibilities exhilarated his landscape
oriented mind, moving him to declare that he couldn't "imagine a
more creative job than locating the
Blue Ridge Parkway because you
worked with a ten-league canvas
and brush of a comet's tail." He also
became convinced that he had embarked upon a mission entirely new
to the National Park Service, a novel
sort of conservation program in
which he was to develop, in his
words, "a museum of managed
American countryside."
�Of all aspects in the Blue Ridge
Parkway's development Abbott's
concept of "managed American
countryside" was to indelibly brand
every mile of the Parkway. Keenly
aware that the only similarity between the five hundred miles under
his charge and the other national
park units, such as Yellowstone and
Grand Canyon National Parks, was
that they both were administered by
the Department of the Interior, he
also knew that by act of Congress,
areas accepted and established as
national parks had to possess sufficient natural beauty and environmental uniqueness to merit inclusion as a "national jewel." He was
well aware, too, that the acreage
which finally became the Blue Ridge
Parkway, if judged solely on natural
beauty and uniqueness, would
never have qualified for national
park status. Only the economic
emergency of the Great Depression
brought those acres under the
guardianship of the National Park
Service. Of equal significance was
his concept of a managed countryside, which led to conversion of five
hundred miles of ordinary countryside into a thing of eye-catching
beauty. To achieve this feat he had
to prescribe landscape development
programs which must have brought
furrowed brows to the old time National Park Service administrators,
who would never have dreamed of,
nor tolerated, timber-stand improvement, use of tons of seeds and fertilizers, agricultural leases, scenic
easements, or massive soil improvement programs for their parks. Yet
all of these and other landscape
improvement practices became
commonplace on the Parkway, resulting in a rural federal roadside
most worthy of inclusion in the National Park system.
One of the charges under which the
landscape architects operated was
that of retaining the rural quality of
the Parkway picture. This necessitated an all important study of the
entire acreage to determine the most
fruitful use of all lands within the
park boundary. Out of the study
evolved what the landscape architects called "PLUMS," meaning
"Parkway Land Use Maps." Every
section of the route was given detailed attention on the maps. Not
only was the proposed landscape
treatment entered thereon but so
were property lines, owners of adjoining lands, proposed land use,
and similar data so essential to the
architect and planner. The details
required much research but Abbott
provided it, feeling that prescribed
land use was the key to Parkway
distinctiveness.
Thus, as Abbott entered into the
task of applying landscape magic
to his novel undertaking, he was
breaking new ground and daily pioneering. This he reflected in an early
annual report: "Since its inception
the Blue Ridge Parkway has been
recognized by the Service as a pio-
neer project of a scale and character
new to the National Park Service
and new as well to the field of recreational planning. In the broadest
phases of the work there has been
little benefit of precedent. There has
been an unusual need for thoughtful prediction of the manner in
which, as well as to the extent to
which, the facility will be used."
The notion of a "Federal Parkway"
was not completely new when the
Blue Ridge proposal was made in
the fall of 1933. Official definition of
the concept was developed by A.E.
Demaray, Associate Director of the
Abbott proposed a "managed American countryside." He felt it was important to retain
the rural flavor of the Parkway along this recreational drive.
13
�National Park Service, on April 14,
1933, in a radio address over
WMAL, Washington, B.C. After
pointing out that the first such legislation, enacted May 23, 1928, providing for the Mount Vernon Memorial Highway, and two years later
for both the George Washington Memorial Parkway and the Colonial
National Parkway linking Williamsburg and Jamestown, had authorized
landscape development, ornamental
structures, planting of shrubbery
and shade trees and parking facilities, he felt precedent was established. His definition states: "The
parkway, or elongated park, is a road
or highway on standards suited to
heavy continuous travel of the recreational type, with its roadsides so
insulated as to give the motorist
over it the impression of being out
in the great open spaces, far from
industrial or other commercial developments. This is accomplished
by providing for a minimum rightof-way of 800 feet through which
the road will pass, with no
billboards, hotdog stands, gas stations, or other structures which
would be in the nature of eyesores."
14
All commercial traffic would be
barred.
The significant difference between
earlier models and what Abbott, as
Resident Landscape Architect, had
to be concerned about in planning
the Blue Ridge Parkway, was that
the previous parkways were relatively short, lay on flat land, and
were distinctly suburban in character. Hence, they were of little help to
him in designing a five hundred
mile rural mountainous parkway.
For him and his colleagues, the time
had arrived for planning.
A TIME TO PLAN
Actual planning and landscape designing for the Parkway were officially initiated December 26, 1933,
when Thomas C. Vint, Chief Architect, Branch of Plans and Design,
National Park Service, designated
Major Gilmore D. Clarke as consulting landscape architect and Stanley
W. Abbott as resident landscape
architect. In April, 1934, they were
joined by Edward H. Abbuehl and
H.E. van Gelder, each holding the
rank of assistant landscape architect. Abbuehl was assigned to reconnaissance and flagging for the
North Carolina portion and van
Gelder was given a similar task in
Virginia. Parkway Headquarters
were established in the Shenandoah
Life Insurance Building in Roanoke,
Virginia, where the Bureau of Public
Roads also maintained a headquarters office. Abbott also planned for
field offices to be distributed along
the entire Parkway with a landscape
architect assigned to each development project.
Perhaps the greatest challenge confronting Abbott and his colleagues
was the coordination of effort resulting from a long standing agreement
between the Secretary of Agriculture
and the Secretary of the Interior
which provided that all major road
construction in national park areas
was to be done by the Bureau of
Public Roads. This teamwork served
as a prototype for all subsequent
efforts of its kind. Not only did the
�landscape architects have to initially design subject to approval by
Abbott's counterpart at BPR, William A. Austin, Resident Engineer,
but they also had to cooperate with
and coordinate the wishes and demands of politicians, highway commissions, and engineers representing the interests of the two states
through which the Parkway construction was scheduled. The intricate and time-consuming tasks of
reconnaissance, surveying, right-ofway acquisition, design and layout,
drawing up specifications for contracts, putting out and evaluating
bids, supervising construction,
landscaping, and final acceptance of
each completed contract required
inordinate measures of coordination, patience, and forbearance.
Every item considered, from the
form a guard rail would possess to
whether there should be swimming
pools on the Parkway, had to routinely make the bureaucratic circle
from the field to Abbott, to the Regional Director, to the Director, and
sometimes to the Secretary of the
Interior, and then back down the
line. Abbott, recalling this in 1943,
said, "I often remember how one
outsider said early in the days of the
Parkway that the project would
surely fall of its own weight. It has
not fallen and perhaps that is the
best witness to the Service's excellence in handling the situation."
Much credit for the "Service's excellence" centered in the tactful administrative skill of the Resident
Landscape Architect. That his task
was frequently an excruciating one
is revealed in a confidential memorandum he filed with the Regional
Director: "I doubt that in the whole
history of federal public works there
could be found an agency which
has collaborated more wholeheartedly, more patiently, more selflessly, and more broad-mindedly
than the National Park Service. The
ejfort has not been returned in
kind," Even so, Abbott was aware
that major failures of cooperation
were, more often than not, due to
inability of non-Park Service individuals to fully appreciate the
unique distinction between a federal
parkway and an ordinary public
highway, whether they represented
the Bureau of Public Roads or state
officials. None of the available evidence indicates any malicious intent, no matter how severe were the
differences in opinion.
For example, in determining the
design of the Parkway around Roanoke, Virginia, the National Park
Service designed that section to be
built on the same standards and
design as the rest of the Parkway.
The Bureau of Public Roads, however, was adamant in supporting
a four-lane route around Roanoke
with the precise intent that eventu-
�ally the four-lane portion would
be integrated into a beltway system
around the city, open to all kinds of
through traffic. Abbott declared
such a proposition as out "of character, unnecessary as a practical
matter, and tremendously costly."
His successor was bolder in his condemnation and flatly called the
proposition, "Stupid!"
In similar manner, the Bureau proposed that a section of the Parkway
near Deep Gap, N.C., at Mile Post
281, be merged with United States
Highway 421 for a few miles. The
National Park Service again vigorously objected that such a mixing of
commercial and recreational traffic
was out of character, infeasible, and
totally contrary to federal parkway
philosophy. The influence of the
Chief of Design and the Director of
the National Park Service were sufficient, eventually, to sustain Abbott's
views and to prohibit integration of
Parkway and commercial traffic.
The compromise can be seen today,
as Parkway and Highway 421 traffic
run a brief, but parallel course.
In the meanwhile, all the planning
activities were running their normal
course, including reconnaissance—
the spying out of the land with an
architect's sense of aesthetics, direction, variety, and culture. An early
report by H.E. van Gelder, reconnoitering the Virginia countryside,
portrays the criteria which guided
him in determining the Parkway's
location: "It is difficult for the Landscape Architect to share the Engineer's paramount interest in easy
grades. For a purely scenic driveway, iii my opinion, the controlling
features for location would come in
this order:
4. Easy grades—remembering that
for modern pleasure cars steep
grades have very little objection.
Where alignment can be
improved by steepening the
grade, I would give preference to
the alignment."
His landscape architect schooling
came through vividly in his summary statement: "In general, when
locating the road, more consideration should be given to the possibilities of fitting it into the landscape
with a minimum of big cuts and fills
because on a road built for scenic
beauty, if engineering requirements
should demand a complete defacement of the countryside, enjoyment
of the drive would be much
impaired."
Abbott's advice to his staff emphasized that "variety is the spice of
the Parkway," and urged that the
basic reason for the Parkway's existence was to please by revealing the
charm and interest of the native
American countryside. Many years
later, while reminiscing about that
period, he declared, "We and the
engineers together just drilled and
drilled, all of us, on the business of
following a mountain stream for
awhile, then climbing upon the
slope of a hill pasture, then dipping
down into the open bottom lands
and back into the woodlands."
Van Gelder evidently listened well.
His reconnaissance reports are replete with recommendations calculated to fulfill Abbott's desires.
Sometimes his proposed center line
was on the spine of the ridge with
a "great view of the Shenandoah
Valley," or through some open
meadows—"a fine high spot." On
the negative side, he counseled
avoidance of a "rather shabby group
of little farms." And, conscious of
the need for cultural interpretation,
he once proposed that the acreage
he was surveying be acquired to
interpret the story of Appalachian
logging operations. Spotting a denuded and eroded farm he suggested
it be acquired and reclaimed for
nature. His thoughtful analysis resulted in recommendations of this
kind: "I would like to see the line
even higher up on the hill. Views
are rather obstructed by woods on
the lower line," or "From here south
for nearly three miles, the ridge is
all clear, rocky meadows. Sweeping views in both directions everywhere."
At the same time, in North Carolina,
Abbuehl was reporting that "We
have some excellent skyline locations with fine views—best in the
country. There are some valley sections varying from the swift mountain stream type to the heavy
wooded thicket, and the broad, open
1. To reach the points of greatest
beauty—which no doubt are the
open, level spaces on the tops
of the ridges, with their wonderful views, invigorating atmosphere and great recreational
values.
2. Good alignment—which is generally more easily obtained by rising to higher elevations, above
the gullies.
3. A minimum of defacement of the
natural mountainside—which
means keeping off the steep
slopes.
16
Mabry Mill was one of the "must save" features of the Blue Ridge Parkway.
�Rocky Knob Gas Station as originally proposed.
fertile cultivated valley." He confessed that there was also some
"very mediocre stuff" but contended
that the landscape architects had
made the best of what the country
offered, assuring Abbott that, "There
will be some thrills for the public."
He also verified that his assignment
had its headaches: "Five different
lines have been flagged, each of
which have some objections. Mr.
Brownell, location engineer, and I
have spent so much time in this
sector trying to make something out
of it without any success that I don't
think either of us would like anything there now, even if it was
good."
Breath-taking views and prime locations were not the only concerns of
the landscape architects. The salvation and preservation of such Parkway architectural favorites as Mabry
Mill and Brinegar Cabin were promoted by the reports forwarded to
headquarters by van Gelder, Abbuehl, and later associates. Their
knowing eyes and culturally sensitive minds made possible their supervisor's desire to "please by revealing the charm and interest of
the native American countryside."
Like a gathering of eagles, the arrival
of Abbuehl and van Gelder was
soon augmented by others. Among
the early staffers were Lynn M. Harris, assistant landscape architect,
who transferred from the Shenandoah National Park; George W.
Wickstead, junior landscape architect, assigned to drafting development maps; Thomas G. Heaton, junior landscape architect, for work on
bridge grading and design; Foster
M. Warwick, junior landscape architect, transferred from the Great
Smoky Mountains National Park;
C.R. Alt, junior landscape architect,
from Grand Tetons National Park;
and Robert F. Elliott, junior landscape architect from the Great Smokies.
Throughout the following months
landscape architects kept arriving
and were immediately assigned special tasks. For example, in March,
1936, Malcolm A. Bird, assistant
landscape architect, was transferred
from Gatlinburg and placed in
charge of Parkway landscape planting design and field work, and Albert S. Burns, junior landscape architect, reported on July 24, 1936, to
take pictures of Parkway activities.
Ralph W. Emerson, assistant landscape architect, came on April 2,
1936, for special work on a new
master development plan.
Along with the new staffers came
another development which, although not even mentioned in the
early months of publicity, quickly
became one of the most predominant and most distinctive features
of the entire Parkway: the birth of a
series of recreational parks scattered
through the length of the route. This
addition offered so much versatility
and beauty that Abbott described
them as "beads on a string—the rare
gems in the necklace." He considered them absolutely essential to his
objective of planning "and developing a complete tourist facility of
unusual scale and character," comparable to the Westchester county
parks, proclaiming that the very
nature of the Parkway invited leisurely driving with frequent stops
by the vacationer. Hence, he said, it
was questionably desirable to meet
the vacationer's needs by setting
aside worthwhile areas with facilities for camping, picnicking, hiking,
horseback riding, golfing, fishing,
CONTINUED ON PAGE 22
17
�DIVERSITY
Designed as a 470 mile long road to be
driven at leisure, the Blue Ridge
Parkway was planned to offer scenic
beauty and pleasure. To insure that
those who visited it would not become
bored with monotonous repetition of
the same thing mile upon mile, Stanley
Abbott planned diversity into the route
the Parkway took and into the man
made features of the Park.
For example, the landscape included ...
Farmland
Tree lined corridors ...
Rock walls
18
�and bridges of wood, concrete ...
and steel.
Variety was planned into everything.
19
�BEFORE
Looking at the Parkway today it is often
hard to visualize the task which
confronted the architects of this scenic
wonder. They contended with
overworked, often eroded landscape as
well as dense forests where no road had
gone before. The photographs on this
page are representative of what
confronted the first landscape architects.
20
�AFTER
On this page are photographs taken
from approximately the same location
as those on the opposite page. However,
for over forty years, the hand of the
builder and the touch of nature, both
guided by the park's landscape
architects, have worked magic on the
land.
21
�Irish Creek, Pine Spur, Rocky Knob,
Cumberland Knob, Gilam Gap, and
the Cascades. By 1939 the number
of proposed parks had jumped to
nineteen. Among the new additions
were Lick Log, Smart View, Fisher
Peak, Tomkins Knob, Linville Falls,
Mount Pisgah, and Richland Balsam. For a variety of political and
other reasons, Irish Creek, Gilam
Gap, the Pinnacles of Dan, and Natural Bridge were deleted.
The master plan included four supporting components with respect
to recreation parks:
1. Conservation of natural scenery.
2. Facilities for active recreation
augmenting the passive enjoyment of the motorway itself.
3. Provision of food, lodging, and
motor service in an attractive
manner where it is not available.
The above portion of an early
campground sign plan illustrates the
detail which landscape architects use to
assure a complete appearance.
CONTINUED FROM PAGE 17
and swimming. Carefully planned,
these areas would be cardinal elements in rounding out the total usefulness of the Parkway. In addition
to providing on-site recreation, he
envisioned the satellite parks as a
base for side trips to points of interest beyond the Parkway boundaries.
He sought the inclusion of amenities
including lodges, campgrounds,
camp stores, and motor vehicle services, at strategic locations along
the route.
By October 1, 1934, the idea had
prompted special studies and proposals which climaxed December
15,1934, in a concise report and
master plan by Abbott, integrating
the parks into the Parkway proper.
The report and master plan were
strongly supported by the Chief of
Design, the Director of the National
Park Service, and the Secretary
of the Interior. The areas recommended for park status were divided into "major" and "minor"
units. In the former category were
Natural Bridge, Peaks of Otter, Pinnacles of Dan and the Bluff. The
minor units were Humpback Rocks,
22
4. Utility buildings for
maintenance and operation of
the parks and the Parkway.
Original plans for the Parkway had
called only for right-of-way sufficient to construct a motorway. Adding the parks required additional
acquisition of thousands of acres of
land—land which Virginia and
North Carolina were not obligated to
buy. Abbott's office made an exten-
sive field study of possible acreage
for recreational park purposes, and
identified some 90,000 desirable
acres, less than half of which was
United States Forest Service land.
About 50,000 of those acres required
other means of acquisition. Again,
time and season richly served the
Parkway since one of the New Deal
relief programs, the Resettlement
Administration, had recently devised a program for purchasing submarginal land and recycling it back
to nature. Abbott learned of the program, filed required applications,
made the right contacts, and in October, 1935, received an initial grant
of $103,000 for acquisition and development of park projects in Virginia and $81,000 for those in North
Carolina. These Resettlement Administration funds and submarginal land thus provided the
Parkway with such popular leisure
parks as Rocky Knob and Cumberland Knob. Each park offered a dual
role for the Parkway, scenic pleasure
coupled with much needed employment.
Park inclusion was determined
by some unique feature a site possessed: Humpback Mountain because of the spectacular view it provided of the Virginia valleys; Peaks
of Otter for geological features and
its fascinating 360 degree panorama;
the Bluffs because it was "typical of
the high grass pastureland" and also
Notice the short drives to individual picnic tables in the drawing below. More recent
plans include few drives, reflecting a change of attitudes and costs.
�suitable for recreation such as
golfing.
Abbott's master plan for the parks
offered a broad spectrum recreational scheme including golf
courses, swimming facilities, and
horseback riding. Certain National
Park Service officials successfully
vetoed Abbott on these as out of
character with the Parkway's objectives, deeming trails for hiking, picnicking grounds, camping sites, and
parking overlooks sufficient to provide for visitor needs. Today's Parkway provides neither golfing, swimming, nor horseback riding
facilities.
One of the tasks that Abbott and his
staff worked at most diligently,
which often met with frustrating
delays was the means of providing
food, lodging, and visitor services
at strategic intervals. The remoteness of many of the Parkway areas
and the general lack of visitor accomodations along the way had
convinced them that it was mandatory to integrate such services into
their master plan. This concept was
readily approved by the Service, but
two problems still arose: securing
competent, acceptable concessionaires and the design of concession
units which would blend aesthetically with the Parkway.
After many months of diligent appeals a first concessionaire was obtained, National Parks Concessions,
Inc., and was installed in a building
at Cumberland Knob which artfully
emulated the better mountain architecture. With its opening the first
recreational park was fully operational.
Meanwhile, classic trail shelters
and more concession buildings were
being designed, including proposed
"tea-houses" and lodges. The lodge
at Doughton Park is a good example
of the landscape architect's touch
on the Parkway. It was designed
shortly after World War II ended,
CONTINUED ON PAGE 28
Part of the work performed by landscape architects included detailed drawings of
historic structures to maintain their original appearance.
23
�Building concept plan
The work of the landscape architect is truly an art form. The
illustration on this and the next three pages support this statement.
Ideas must be put on paper for others, such as engineers, to see what
the finished work should look like. These ideas on paper are often
as worthy of framing as the pen and ink works of an artist.
The land is the landscape architect's canvas. On it he blends objects
of nature and man much as an artist brushes color on canvas. Like
a sculptor, he carves here, builds up there, plants a tree here and
a bush there, and ends up with something of beauty and function.
Drawing to show how a tunnel entrance should look
Drawing for a pedestrian underpass
24
�ART FROM THE LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT
A bridge inserted into the environment without disturbing the scene
Like a sculptor's statue, the man made
structures of the Parkway represent the
result of a design which began in the
mind of an artist, the landscape
architect. Unlike the sculptor, however,
the architect's ideas are translated into
their finalform by others. Engineers
must design and build the structures
and someone must maintain them. All
through this process the landscape
architect acts as a guide.
Within the boundaries of the Parkway a
road was built. Campgrounds and picnic
areas were constructed; visitor centers
and other structures were placed upon
the land. The challenge was to maintain
a look so natural that it would be hard
to tell where the builder left off and
where nature began.
Another bridge built to blend with the natural scene. Notice how the supports begin to
blend into the trees.
Log guard rails blend the road along Rocky Knob Picnic Area with the land so well
that it is hard to see unless you're on it.
25
�Engineers placed the Linn Cove Viaduct
so well that much of the natural setting
passed under it.
From the Parkway's beginning until its
completion, bridges have been faced
with stone to maintain a more natural
beauty, with few exceptions.
Masonry in early years was used in a
manner that would allow the visitor on
foot to see its beauty blending into the
land.
At Buck Creek Gap overpass, near
Crab tree Meadows, North Carolina, the
road appears to underline the scenic
beauty, then point to more.
26
�Models were created in the early years
to show how construction would look
when finished. This model of a stone
culvert demonstrates how completely
landscape architects planned for a
scenic roadway.
Even roadside gutters were works of art.
Many of these gutters may still be seen
along the middle sections of the
Parkway, (above left)
Signs have been shaped into things of
beauty by the landscape architect,
(above right)
Man's historic effect on the beauty of
this scenic road was artfully worked
into the completed plan.
27
�and according to one architect's
opinion, 'The original design
looked exactly like a World War II
barracks." Luckily, that design was
replaced by one that provided the
present day unit which blends so
attractively with its surroundings.
Simultaneously, the Bureau of Public Roads was making a contribution
which greatly expedited the work
of its sister agency landscape architects and all others involved in
Parkway projects. To improve precision and coordination of planning,
design, and administration, the entire Parkway was divided into two
sections. The Virginia section was
labeled "Section 1" and the North
Carolina portion "Section 2," after
which each section was divided
into alphabetical subsections. To
prevent typographical errors, the
labels "1-1" and "l-O" were not
used, nor were "2-1" or "2-O." The
alphabet was threaded by moving
southward so that "Section 1-A"
linked the Shenandoah National
Park to the Parkway whereas "Section 2-Z" linked the Parkway with
the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. This simple but effective mechanism became an invaluable planning and maintenance tool,
uniquely distinct to the Parkway.
Two innovations, the mile post
markers and the logo design, added
charm and utility for future Parkway
travelers. Mile post markers, an ancient idea reapplied, similar to those
installed centuries ago by the Romans, and recently by modern railroads, were prescribed and gradually put in place throughout the
Parkway. Mile "0" began at the junction with the Shenandoah National
Park and Mile "469" marked the
merger with Great Smoky Mountains National Park. These markers
proved invaluable, not only to the
traveler, but to the park ranger and
park administrator.
The second innovation was the design of a simple but captivating logo
to vividly represent the Parkway.
Abbott, Abbuehl, Lynn Harris, and
others discussed various approaches
and numerous designs. The climax
Land use maps were used to plan or record much of the Parkway's route.
28
of their brainstorming was a combination of mountain peaks, an open
sky, a tall wind-swept white pine,
and a swath of the motor-road—all
enclosed in a circle. Later, the words
"Blue Ridge Parkway" were added
around the rim of the circle. Thus
the currently familiar logo became a
vital part of the Parkway story.
Another concept, which began with
little fanfare but blossomed into a
most significant Parkway entity, was
"Scenic Easement," the landscape
architect's device for controlling the
visual boundaries of the Parkway
without owning them. From the
very beginning anxiety and concern
centered around the small right-ofway, at first 200 feet and later 800
feet, affording an inadequate shelter
belt. To fortify that vital strip, the
scenic easement program was created, whereby, in the land acquisition process, the State made
arrangements with the land owner.
In return for a one-time financial
consideration, said landowners
agreed to perpetual restrictions
upon the use of their land. Virginia's
�Scenic Easement Act, March 12,
1936, clearly sets forth those restrictions:
•
"The term scenic easement shall
mean the easement or right of
the Commonwealth of Virginia
or of its assigns, the United
States of America (in cases
where said easement is assigned
or conveyed to the United
States), to restrict the use of any
and all lands covered by or subject to said easement so that the
owner or owners of said land
or any part thereof, or their assigns shall not have the privilege
or right:
(1) to erect or authorize the erection
thereon of any buildings, pole,
pole line or other structure;
(2) to construct thereon any private
drive or road;
(3) to require the Commonwealth of
Virginia or its assigns to construct any access road or drive
thereon;
(4) to remove from or break, cut,
injure, or destroy on said land
any trees or plants or shrubbery;
(5) to place thereon any dumps of
ashes, trash, sawdust, or any
unsightly or offensive material;
(6) to place or display thereon
any sign, billboard, or advertisement."
That any alert landowner would
accept such flagrant restrictions
upon his possessions speaks volumes about the time and season of
that economically depressed era.
The logic used by Abbott and the
National Park Service authorities
was maintenance of the rural
scene—the "managed American
countryside." As he explained to
the local population in his popular
Blue Ridge Parkway News: "The
general idea behind the scenic easement is simple enough. It allows the
farmer to use the land for farming
and prevents his using it for other
business. The reason behind it from
our point of view is that we want
the farms as part of the picture and
we do not want factories or hotdog
stands or billboards. It means that
the land has been earmarked for
farm use. This is like town zoning,
which guarantees to a man who has
just built a house that a factory will
not be built on the next lot."
This explanation may have sufficed
for the poverty-stricken generation
of land-owners Abbott was talking
with, but their heirs and assigns
who later purchased lands with
scenic easement riders have
occasionally been shocked and extremely exasperated to discover how
binding the scenic easement restrictions became. In the meanwhile, as
designed, the rural picture has been
maintained.
An early entry sign depicting the original Parkway logo.
Even single trees warranted the attention
of the landscape architect.
A TIME TO PROPOSE AND A
TIME TO REJECT
While these things were evolving,
other events were determining the
actual location of the Parkway.
Among the areas which Abbott
wished included in his recreational
parks was the geological phenomenon known as Natural Bridge, Virginia. Seeking to provide variety
and unique scenic rewards for the
traveling public, he proposed that
the Parkway route deviate from the
Blue Ridge proper at Tye River Gap,
veer northward and west to include
the Natural Bridge, and then return
to the Blue Ridge about five miles
west of the Peaks of Otter. Abbott
characterized the Bridge as "a scenic
reservation at which the traveler
would stop for observation," providing a type of recreation found nowhere else on the Parkway. He also
proposed acquisiton of about five
hundred acres, including the Bridge
and its allied tourist facilities. All
of it was to be converted into a
"public reservation" with upgraded
food, lodging, swimming, and golfing accomodations—very similar to
what was contained in the Westchester County system. The proposal not only offered relief from
continuous mountain driving but
also afforded a most unique "watering place" experience. Nevertheless,
the fate of Abbott's recommendation
was recorded in one sentence in
his first annual report: "Senator
Glass of Virginia protested the deviation from the crest line by way of
29
�the Peaks of Otter and accordingly
the Secretary of the Interior
announced on July 25, 1935, that
the original mountain location
would be followed."
In that same year, Abbott, the National Park Service, the Bureau of
Public Roads, and the State of North
Carolina attempted to establish the
Parkway location through the Cherokee Indian reservation. At issue
were location, width of right-of-way,
scenic easement, and access rights,
especially in the village of Cherokee, a major tourist destination. The
Indians wished to grant only a narrow right-of-way, on a location of
their choosing, from Soco Gap
through Cherokee, flatly rejecting
scenic easement. Abbott and the
Service, on the other hand, recommended that the Parkway run
through the village on a separate
roadbed, insulated from regular traffic, with no frontage privileges.
They also took the position that if
the Indians remained adamant the
Parkway should be terminated at
Soco Gap. Ensuing conferences repeatedly ended in stalemates. Seeking an alternative, Abbott proposed
that the Parkway run from Balsam
Gap to Sylva, then down the Tuckaseegee River and enter Cherokee via
the Oconoluftee River. Months of
delicate and frustrating negotiations
finally ended with the State of North
Carolina working out acquisitions
which, on a completely new route,
by-passed the village of Cherokee
and connected the Parkway with
the Smokies at Ravensford. Again
Abbott and the landscape architects
were bested by political considerations.
ing, and support, he instituted the
Blue Ridge Parkway Newsletter, a
small mimeographed sheet. It was
hand-delivered to country stores
and similar public gathering spots
along the Parkway and quickly
proved popular.
"What is a Parkway?," giving
readers a layman's definition of
"parkway" and stressing the need
to safeguard the natural beauty
of the region so that both local
residents and their visitors could
perpetually enjoy that beauty;
In the first issue, November, 1937,
Abbott established a sincere, cordial
tone which remained through the
life of the News: "We wish it were
possible to have a long talk over the
fence with each one of you in the
manner of all good neighbors. With
500 miles to cover you can readily
see that it is a real task and it may
be some time before we can shake
hands with all of you. We still have
that in mind, but, meanwhile, we
have hit upon the idea of this
paper."
"Scenic Easments: Your Rights
and Ours," in which, speaking to
answer the farmer who said, "I
own the land and I don't," Abbott
admitted that "he is right but he
makes it sound worse than need
be." Then came the previously
quoted explanation of the reasoning behind the scenic easement
program, with an emphasis upon
the benefits accruing to both parties;
Like the good mentor that he was,
he used issue after issue to inform
his neighbors about Parkway matters and to share his philosophy
and that of the Service. Topics included the following:
• "Woodlands along the Parkway,"
featuring the scenic value of trees
and urging owners to manage
them wisely both for their benefit
and that of the thousands of visitors who were soon coming;
"For the Enjoyment of All," a
charming essay rebutting the rumor that the Parkway was a "rich
man's road" and that the local
people would not be welcome to
use it. Greatly perturbed, Abbott
declared, "Nothing could be farther from the truth. The Blue
Ridge Parkway will be opened for
the use and enjoyment of all the
Nation alike, whether they live
within a stone's throw of the road
itself or whether they come from
the far corners of the United
States."
A TIME TO INFORM AND A
TIME TO SHARE
Closely tied in with the preceding
events was another innovation,
something traditional, yet very new.
The National Park Service routinely
made it a policy to keep the public
informed of its work. Thus the Parkway's Resident Landscape Architect
inherited an additional job, that of
public information officer. This he
partially accomplished via the traditional media of press and conferences. But none of these, in his
opinion, reached the audience
whose support he yearned for—the
mountain neighbors of the Parkway.
To get their attention, understand30
Triple arch bridge over the Linville River, North Carolina.
�Other commentaries, over a five year
period, dealt with such topics as
soil conservation, fire control, wild
life habitat, and the leasing
program. These warm-hearted,
friendly bits of news, information,
and philosophy served as strong
mortar to bond the interests of the
Parkway with those of its neighbors
and helped the Parkway become a
five hundred mile long community.
A TIME TO GATHER STONES
TOGETHER
Closely integrated with all other
activities were the daily tasks of
planning and designing for every
undertaking. Therein lay the matrix
for every bridge, sign, guard rail,
picnic table, trail, parking overlook,
building—everything that the Service was to place on the Parkway.
Each item required numerous drafts,
revisions, reviews, and approvals,
as well as close supervision during
construction. The landscape architect's office daily accumulated new
drafts and blueprints, each coded
and numbered, keyed into Service
standards. To every mile of the route
the healing, rehabilitating, and
beautifying touch of the landscape
architect was applied. Out of that
touch would come recreational, social, and economic changes sufficient to alter the entire mountain
region through which it ran.
The dominant theme in all of this
was Abbott's guiding star; "Marry
beauty to utility." Everything had to
blend, to mold together to merge
with the existing features to fulfill
the prescribed objective of establishing a "museum of managed
countryside."
The Linville River bridge amply
illustrates the concept. It was designed not simply to bridge a river
but to become part of the total recreational program, artfully demonstrating the landscape architect's
use of native stone to enhance the
engineer's utilitarian bridge. Here
again, the influence of the Westchester Park system is evident: present all along the Parkway are concrete bridges, bridge abutments,
tunnel portals, and over-passes
cleverly hidden by an outer-facing
of native, rough-cut stones, a tribute
not only to the Westchester model
but to the fact that the Chief of De-
Man made dam and falls at Otter Creek, Virginia.
sign and Chief Architect, Thomas C.
Vint, firmly believed that nude concrete was lacking in aesthetics.
This vital sense of aesthetics had a
most interesting accompaniment in
the Parkway's "gathering of stones."
The landscape architects studied
the use native mountaineers had
made of local stone, as in their
chimneys, and attempted to emulate
that use, even specifiying that any
stone used would have to come from
within a certain distance of the
road. Ironically, when it came time
to convert that native stone into the
masonry requirements of the architect, it was necessary to seek out
Spanish and Italian immigrant stone
masons, like one Joe Troitino, to do
the work.
One of the most unusual stone masonry achievements on the entire
project had to do with Abbott's fascination with water as a landscape
medium. Recalling the use the
Westchester Parks had made of
water resources, he deliberately
routed the road alongside streams
and was saddened by the lack of
natural lakes along the way. One of
the landscaping remedies for that
lack is visible in the dam which
forms Otter Creek Lake. The masonry work is so cleverly contrived
that, to the casual eye, the water
cascading over the dam seems to
flow over Nature's own stones.
In gathering together stones, and in
practicing the landscape architect's
art, it is a remarkable characteristic
of the Parkway that "blending"
causes many very attractive architectural attraction features to quietly
slip by, unnoticed and, therefore,
unappreciated. In fact, the "Parkway
Underground," the sub-surface features, offer an unheralded architectural attraction worthy of serious
attention. For example, to the passing motorist the Linville River
bridge appears as simply a nice,
utilitarian stream-crosser. But to the
lucky hiker and fishermen who pass
under it there is displayed a fabulous three arch span reminiscent of
those of Rome. The same treat for
the keen eye is present at the bridges
spanning the James River, the Roanoke River, the Round Meadow, and
Goshen Creek, where beauty and
utility are merged.
A TIME TO PLANT AND
A TIME TO SOW
Out of the PLUMS land use study
mentioned earlier came a pioneering development which is still providing the rural picture so desired
by the landscape architects. This
was the land leasing program,
whereby the Service, once it had
rehabilitated land and restored its
fertility, leased portions of it to local
farmers who put it to traditional
agricultural use. Abbott set forth
two values he saw in the program:
"(1) It will maintain the open character of the country where it is desirable without any considerable
maintenance cost to the Federal
Government and, (2) It will build up
the friendly feeling of the farmer
toward the Parkway." A most valuable and delightful bonus came out
of the leasing program. It became a
CONTINUED ON PAGE 36
31
�By planning... Section from early master plan
On-site supervision... Landscape
architects carried their work to the field.
Here one is seen marking trees to be
kept.
32
Special projects... The Mission 66
program rejuvenated the Parkway
program after World War II.
�HOW IT WAS ACCOMPLISHED
Labor programs... The Youth
Conservation Corps (YCC) is only the
latest of many work projects which
helped build the Parkway.
Hand labor... The Civilian Conservation
Corps (CCC) provided much of the hand
labor necessary to build the early
portions of the Parkway.
Mule power... Virginia Emergency Relief
labor performed much of their work
with mule power. Here they are using a
drag pan to build a gutter.
33
�CCC enrollees moved many trees used in landscaping the road.
North Carolina Emergency Relief labor
moved many tons of top soil which was
saved for landscaping.
WPA workers salvaged sod for later use.
34
�BY USING WHAT WAS THERE
35
�CONTINUED FROM PAGE 31
conservation "better mousetrap,"
with the leased lands becoming
demonstration plots in praise of
wise land use. Parkway officials
helped in every way possible, providing seed, fertilizer, lime, seedlings, and soil conservation advice.
Their attitude was shaped by a
simple reality, as expressed ably by
one of them: "On the Blue Ridge
Parkway a narrow right-of-way
makes every phase of conservation
very difficult, administratively and
physically. Fire, water, plant, and
animal life, and even people can
hardly be regimented along the 500mile strip of park land. The only
solution lies in our ability to make
conservationists out of our neighbors by adroit educational schemes."
Hence, by example, the conservation theme was widely broadcast:
soil improvement practices required
of each lease holder spread from
Parkway land to his land, and from
there to his neighbors. And when
the Service treated hundreds of severely eroded acres and made them
productive, it posted a highly visible
sign to its neighbors to emulate the
practice.
of adding to Parkway beauty. He
also decided to use his first funding
of $230,000 to execute the complete
landscape plans for a demonstration
project on Sections 1-Q and 2-A.
Abbott's report to the Director of the
National Park Service, 1938, glowed
with pride of accomplishment:
"Thus far in North Carolina eight
miles of general clean-up of dead
and downed timber and debris has
been accomplished on Section 2-A,
five miles of which has been completed as to selective cutting and
vista clearing. This first work, in
many respects is one of the most
spectacular parts of the whole program. Comparisons before and after
the work show how much of the
natural beauty of the woods and
fields have formerly been hidden by
the debris, the slash, and especially
the suckers or stump growth resulting from careless forestry in the
past. Beautiful vistas to the distance,
glimpses into the woods and specimen laurel, rhododendron and
azalea in the background are often
revealed by a slight cutting under
judicious supervision." This touch
of the landscape architect, "painting
with a comet's tail," is the artistic
source of the 500 miles of Parkway
beauty.
Sam P. Weems, Abbott's successor as
Parkway Superintendent, made a
classic statement about the Service's
attitude toward conservation and
the local population when he remarked: "Education, still the mightiest weapon of conservation, has,
on the Parkway, a strong ally in the
noble pride of the mountaineer. . . ."
The flowering of that education and
the successful modeling of conservation practices today provide the
harmonious and eye-pleasing views
which greet visitors along the entire
route.
When the Civilian Conservation
Corps enrollees finally arrived they
were assigned landscaping duties.
One of their most identifiable accomplishments is still at work—the
routed wooden signs scattered the
length of the roadway. The landscape division designed them to
enhance the visitors' cultural awareness and to answer the everrecurring question, "What is that?"
Another "CCC" task was "slope
Abbott was not disturbed by the
urgency of other demands delaying
attention to the landscape program,
saying, "A program of its type and
scale is again a matter of pioneering
and for this reason we recognize
that the delay has its advantages."
Still, two things puzzled him: methodologies for executing the program,
and how to best use the initial funding. He became convinced that labor
from the Civilian Conservation
Corps would best serve his purpose,
and requested that seven camps be
assigned to him, eventually receiving five. They, along with other
emergency workers, did their share
Agricultural scene at Adney Gap, Virginia.
36
reduction," flattening slopes which
the construction contractor had left
too steep to suit the landscape architects. Once flattened those slopes
were sodded, seeded, and planted
with native materials. Abbott described the program: "The grass
seeding and sodding and general
landscape planting of 480 miles of
Blue Ridge Parkway unquestionably
comprises one of the largest programs of its sort ever undertaken in
the United States." He also added a
most pertinent observation: "Perhaps the most surprising accomplishment of the landscape program
is the practical rather than the artistic effect. Warping and rounding
parkway fills and cuts has reduced
road hazard by eliminating loose
overburden and rock, has stabilized
slopes and ditches in the most erosive soils and thereby greatly reduced present and future maintenance." Again, the work of
landscape architects made utilitarian purpose into beautification.
The landscape work was so naturalistically executed that it is difficult
to tell today where the landscape
architect's work ends and that of
Nature begins. The average Parkway
traveler is totally unaware that
much of the beauty he is enjoying
reflects the Aladdin's touch of the
landscape architect and the labor of
hundreds of relief workers. Abbott,
deeply conscious of their contribution, paying them tribute when the
coming of World War II closed out
the relief agencies, said: "While
better controlled than usual, the
great earth moving machines have
left a rough trail across the mountains, a wayside ravelled with many
threads to be caught up. It has been
in this reknitting, in the healing
�over, and finishing that the emergency programs have made of a
mountain highway a mountain
parkway. Without such a follow up
much would be lost in the Parkway's
beauty, and much that makes it
practical as well."
The Civilian Conservation Corps
enrollees were then replaced by
several Civilian Public Service
camps of Conscientious Objectors,
who helped develop Crabtree Meadows and the Peaks of Otter parks.
Abbott was not as complimentary
about their work. On one occasion,
he exhorted them to be conscious of
the fact that although they were
painting on a small palette they
were contributing to a valuable
cause—a cause which would bring
pleasure to thousands of people in
the future. By the time World War II
began, the Parkway's landscape development plans were firmly in
place and the project was approximately two-thirds complete. When
Stanley W. Abbott went off to war in
1943 he and his colleagues had begun "painting the comet's tail," and
their aspirations of creating a museum of managed American countryside were becoming a reality.
During the war, Parkway construction was placed on hold, since most
of its support team departed for
war duty. After the war ended, activities supporting project completion were slow to revive, with woefully inadequate funding from
Congress. Luckily, a dynamic Service program called Mission 66
came along to arouse new life and
new enthusiasm. With it came amphitheaters for interpretive
programs, utilitarian visitor centers,
lodges, and employee residences.
Abbott's yen for the water component was tastefully fulfilled by the
construction of a lake named in his
honor at the Peaks of Otter. Moreover, Price Lake also came into
being as an outstanding example of
the landscape architect's skill, with
the dam cleverly concealed as a
bridge. Another water oriented development was built around the
James River canal theme, adding
new richness to Abbott's recreational parks.
Considering the snail's pace of construction, it is remarkable that for
more than fifty years the continuity
of philosophy, planning, and landscape management for the Parkway
Rocky Knob, Virginia, CCC enrollees laboring on Parkway slopes, Milepost 169,1938.
has flowed from the guardianship,
hearts, and minds of only four successive Resident Landscape Architects: Stanley W. Abbott, Edward H.
Abbuehl, Arthur H. Beyer, and Robert A. Hope.
Just as remarkable were their neverfailing abilities to maintain exceptionally good, professional working
relationships with their opposites,
the Bureau of Public Roads' engineers, such as William Austin, E.G.
Middleton, E.J. Woodrow, F.W. Kron,
Charles Kinney, Col. W.I. Lee, James
L. Obenschain, Joseph A. Todd, and
L.M. "Bud" Darby.
In similar manner, over the seemingly endless years, continual cooperation between the Resident Landscape Architects and the right-ofway engineers for Virginia and
North Carolina was diligently promoted. A classic example of that
cooperation came to fruition via R.
Getty Browning, North Carolina's
chief right-of-way engineer, who
walked every foot of the North Carolina sections and so unstintingly
applied his life to promoting the
interests of the Blue Ridge Parkway
that the National Park Service recognized his contribution by naming
a Parkway peak in his honor,
"Browning Knob."
Thus, a common vision, a common
goal, and an uncommon dedication
of innumerable, talented professionals have made possible "a time to
plant and a time to sow," with a
resulting unparalleled eyeappealing cultural landscape called
the Blue Ridge Parkway.
A TIME TO LIE LIGHTLY
ON THE LAND
Little by little, with excruciating
delays the Parkway approached
completion. The unit to have the
distinction of being the "last link"
was a fragile, boulder strewn segment around Grandfather Mountain.
It had an intricately complicated
routing history. The Service and the
land owner had widely divergent
opinions about how the road should
traverse the Grandfather Mountain.
Early projections in the 1930's had
assumed that the route would absorb the existing Yonalossee Trail
and hence that right-of-way was
obtained. Service landscape architects eventually rejected it and proposed a new one above the existing
road saying that it was impossible
to bring the old road up to National
Park standards. Included in the new
routing was a tunnel, an environmental protection device. But the
land owner vigorously protested
that the "high" road and tunnel
would be extremely detrimental to
the fragile environment, lliere developed a stalemate, lasting several
years, with the Service holding out
for its "high" road on the grounds
that revamping Yonalossee Trail to
standards matching the rest of the
Parkway was impossible. The land
owner held out for the "low" road,
arguing that Grandfather Mountain
was too precious environmentally
to endanger with all the blasting
which would accompany tunnel
construction.
Engineers, landscape architects, and
a variety of specialists, political as
37
�well as technical, clambered over
the terrain, gesticulating, projecting,
and counter-projecting. Finally,
after an exhausting day on the site,
seeking an answer favorable to the
mountain, the owner, and the nation, a Service team leader took a
topographic map to his motel room
and, with red ink, placed a series of
dots on it, crossing the Linn Cove
drainage system: "Right there is
where it will have to go!" he declared. Out of those little red dots
eventually came a solution to the
routing problem. A middle route,
eliminating the tunnel, received
approval by all parties.
Then came a final pioneering accomplishment of the Parkway's history: design the Linn Cove Viaduct,
a bridge which could cross the environmentally fragile terrain without
wreaking havoc. To meet the challenge, techniques and design methods learned in post-war Alpine Europe were applied. A span of 1,243
feet, consisting of 153 separate precast segments, and utilizing every
kind of alignment geometry known
to road construction, was built in
the form of a double "S," literally
from the top down. Using the most
sophisticated computer and engineering technology available, this
"most complicated segmental bridge
ever built" was skillfully laid in
place. The delicate environment
was remarkably undisturbed, making this unit one of the most outstanding engineering and landscaping accomplishments in the nation's
history.
The Linn Cove Viaduct story vividly
illustrates the extraordinary stature
of the technological changes which
have evolved since the first landscape architect and engineer made
their pioneer designs in the early
1930's. For example, Stanley W. Abbott and his colleagues labored with
the aid of a French curve, a straight
edge ruler, a so-called "spline line,"
a "gooseneck" weight, and a hand
manipulated calculating machine.
But, almost half a century later,
when the landscape architect and
engineers had to design the Linn
Cove Viaduct within rigid environmental confines, Rex Cocroft, Bridge
Engineer, Federal Highways, utilized a vest pocket-sized highly sophisticated computer to plot the
curvilinear design which gives the
38
Linn Cove Viaduct its peculiar
uniqueness. Thus, both the vision
and the technology have grown, and
both the old Grandfather Mountain
and the new Linn Cove Viaduct
truly lie "lightly on the land."
A TIME TO CELEBRATE
Finally, in an unbelievably long,
stretched out construction program,
lasting better than half a century,
the Parkway received the last touch
of the engineer, heard the final groan
of the bull-dozer, and felt the concluding peck of the stone mason's
hammer. Complete at last, it
reflected millions of dollars of taxpayers' money well invested, employment for thousands, recreation
for untold numbers, and a pioneering achievement that is a monument
to the Great Depression and a celebration of the Great American
Countryside. Here, indeed, was an
incomparable public works achievement, painted on a "five hundred
mile canvas with a comet's tail."
Credit lines for this eye-pleasing
accomplishment could fill many
pages. Topping the list would be
those intrepid, gifted landscape architects who pioneered with such
distinction. How richly they had
fulfilled the National Park Service
creed to conserve, to share, and to
pass on to posterity an exquisitely
incomparable managed museum of
the American countryside! Testimonial of their success is evidenced
by all those who flock to enjoy its
limitless panoramas, native plants
and animals, its visitor centers and
campsites, its waterfalls and
streams, and its flaming autumn
foliage, free from the trucks and
commerce of the Interstate highways. Perhaps the greatest tribute
that can be offered is the realization
that the landscape design was so
well-done that most users assume
that all is in its natural state, never
realizing the monumental accomplishment of those architects and
engineers who created this special
access for public enjoyment.
The Linn Cove Viaduct on Grandfather Mountain, North Carolina, is a fitting end to
the Blue Ridge Parkway construction. It was built to retain as much as possible of
a fragile landscape. Its graceful beauty compliments the natural environment and helps
protect it for the enjoyment of the passerby.
�THE LANDSCAPE ARCHITECTS OF
THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY
Stanley W. Abbott
1933-1948
Arthur H. Beyer
1957-1963
Edward H. Abbuehl
1948-1957
Robert A. Hope
1963-present
(Kenneth C. McCarter served as Resident Landscape Architect from January,
1944 to November 1945 while Stanley Abbott was on military furlough.)
39
�BIBLIOGRAPHY
For those whose intellectual curiosity prompts further inquiry, the following sources are recommended.
A.
B.
C.
D.
E.
F.
G.
H.
40
FOR IN-DEPTH RESEARCH RELATIVE TO ANY MAJOR ASPECT OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY
STORY SEE:
United States National Park Service, Correspondence regarding Blue Ridge Parkway, Record Groups 48 & 79,
National Archives, Washington, D.C.
Annual Report, Superintendent of the Blue Ridge Parkway, 1935 ff., National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway Archives, Asheville, N.C.
FOR GENERAL INTRODUCTION TO THE ORIGINS, POLITICS, AND EARLY DEVELOPMENT OF THE BLUE
RIDGE PARKWAY SEE:
Buxton, Barry M. and Beatty, Steven M. The BJue Ridge Parkway: Agent of Transition, Appalachian Consortium Press, Boone, N.C., 1986.
Jolley, Harley E., The BJue Ridge Parkway, c. 1969, University of Tennessee Press, Knoxville, Tenn.
FOR A PICTORIAL RECORD OF CONSTRUCTION, ETC., OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY SEE:
Photographic Archives, National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway Archives, Asheville, N.C.
FOR NATIONAL PARK PHILOSOPHY REGARDING CULTURAL LANDSCAPES AND PARKWAYS IN
GENERAL SEE:
Melnick, Robert Z., et. al., Cultural Landscapes; Rural Historic Districts in the National Park System. United
States Department of Interior, National Park Service, Cultural Resources Management, Washington, D.C.,
1984.
United States Department of Interior, National Park Service, National Parkways Handbook, Washington, D.C.,
1964 plus supplements.
FOR INSIGHT INTO STANLEY W. ABBOTT'S PUBLIC RELATIONS PHILOSOPHY SEE:
"Blue Ridge Parkway News", National Park Service, Blue Ridge Parkway, Roanoke, Va., November 1937 ff.
FOR INFORMATION ABOUT THE WESTCHESTER COUNTY PARKS PROGRAM SEE:
Report of the Westchester County Park Commission, County of Westchester, State of New York, 1926 ff.
FOR BRIEF OVERVIEW OF ROADS AND PARKWAYS IN VIRGINIA SEE:
Newlon, Howard, Jr., et. al., Backsights, "Roads That Lay Lightly Upon The Land," Dec., 1984, p.3 and ff.,
plus Backsights articles in general.
FOR ORAL HISTORY AND A DEEPLY SENSITIVE INTERPRETATION OF THE BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY'S
ENTIRE LANDSCAPE PROGRAM SEE THE TRUE GUARDIAN OF THE PARKWAY'S BEAUTY AND
INTEGRITY:
Mr. Robert A. Hope, Resident Landscape Architect, Blue Ridge Parkway, Asheville, N.C.
�ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DR. HARLEY E. jOLLEY, also known as "Mr. Blue Ridge Parkway/' is a
retired distinguished professor of history at Mars Hill College where he
taught from 1949 through his retirement in 1991. Dr. Jolley and his wife,
Betty were the backbone of the Mars Hill history department for more
than forty years. He volunteered as a ranger and historian for National
Park Service on the Blue Ridge Parkway He was a recipient of North
Carolina's Order of the Long Leaf Pine. He authored many books
and articles including; The Blue Ridge Parkway: The First 50 Years, That
Magnificent Army of Youth and Peace: The Civilian Conservation Corps in
North Carolina^ 1933-1942^ and Along the Blue Ridge Parkway.
�
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Appalachian Consortium Press Publications
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Appalachian Consortium Press
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June 1, 2017
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Painting with a Comet's Tail: The Touch of the Landscape Architect on the Blue Ridge Parkway
Description
An account of the resource
<span>Harley E. Jolley explores the Blue Ridge Parkway through the history of its landscape architecture. As Roger Martin states in the introduction, "The design and construction of the Blue Ridge Parkway is an illustration of the kind of quality possible in an enlightened democracy. It is the true example of how a society can properly care for its land and its people."</span><br /><br /><a href="https://drive.google.com/open?id=1VUBrCVDS2e7vIJtqo3VuwR7wJRRd_a-Z" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Download EPub<br /><br /></a><a title="UNC Press Link" href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469642161/painting-with-a-comets-tail" target="_blank" rel="noopener">UNC Press Print on Demand</a>
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Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.)
Landscape architecture--Blue Ridge Parkway (N.C. and Va.)
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Jolley, Harley E.
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1987
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English
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Appalachian Consortium Press
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<a title="UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/9" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener"> UA 76 Appalachian Consortium records </a>
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<a title="Appalachian Consortium Press Publications" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/82" target="_blank"> Appalachian Consortium Press Publications</a>
Architecture
Blue Ridge Parkway
construction
history
landscape architecture