Private Treasures of Antietam; J. Frobouck

Nowhere is this pressure felt more keenly than in Sharpsburg, Maryland, where 23,000 soldiers fell on September 17, 1862, making the Battle of Antietam the war's bloodiest day. The creation of a national cemetery in 1867 at Sharpsburg, coupled with 1890 legislation establishing the Antietam National Battlefield Site, made Antie tam a model for land-protection strategies. Long before PBS brought the war into our livingrooms, Antietam was under the preservation microscope. Since 1988, the National Park Service (NPS), working in concert with preservation organiza tions, has been developing a new general manage ment plan at Antietam that will govern the man agement, use, and interpretation of park resources. The plan reviews changing land-use patterns to determine if they threaten the "integri ty" (original character) of the battlefield. It calls for a public takeover of some privately held lands Jo Ann Frobouck is co-founder and former editor of Land Rights Letter, a national newsletter focusing. on private property rights issues. She lived for six years in Sharpsburg, Maryland, near Antietam Battlefield where she became interested in battlefield preservation issues.

She currently lives in Middletown, Virginia. within Antietam's 3,245-acre boundary to restore the historic scene and provide for tourist use of planned "interpretive plazas." The private landowners who have been Antie tam's faithful stewards, some for generations, are viewed by the NPS as impediments to the planned restoration. Their reward for preserving Antie tam's pristine setting, virtually unchanged since the Civil War, may be the loss of their land and their heritage-a heritage that goes back 200 years, long before the Civil War. The NPS plan prescribes land-use sanctions for other tracts along the perimeter that provide a visual backdrop for the park. To preserve the view from a central point, forced scenic easements will prohibit the erection of new farm structures such as barns, sheds, and silos. Some farmers may be subjected to public right of-way easements across their land, jeopardizing farming operations. The NPS plan, by endorsing such sanctions and controls, would reduce the via bility of farming-which it is supposed to protect.

In 1990, the Conservation Fund, a private land trust, quietly bought a working farm inside the park boundary. Even though the Park Service has eminent-domain authority to protect land within the park, the NPS urged the purchase to save "blood-spilled" ground from exploitation. With great pomp and circumstance, the land was donat ed to the federal government last year. The land, which was not imperiled, will not be any more protected: The only thing that changed is the name on the deed. The American public becomes the caretaker, footing the bill for mainte nance and management.

Many landowners in and around the park are descendants of the families who lived there at the time of the battle. These fourth and fifth genera tion farmers feel they know something about his toric preservation. The KefauverFarm Millard and Nancy Kefauver, who own and operate a 280-acre dairy farm inside the northern edge of the park, worry about pressure for Federal acquisition of private land. Since the day in 1978 when they were informed by registered letter that their land was inside an expanded park boundary, the Kefauvers have been living with uncertainty about their future. This uncertainty isfueled by Park Servicestudies to determine where Clara Barton, founder of the American Red Cross, nursed while at Antietam. The NPS has concluded that Barton used the Kefauver house as her headquarters, even though two other NPS studies concluded that she nursed at other farmhouses. The Kefauvers are certain the NPS picked the third study as a rationale for includ ing their land in the expanded boundary.

The Kefauver farm has been in the family for four generations, since 1862.They have seen park superintendents come and go, as well as new man agement plans for the park, each time wondering if their land will be condemned. While the Park Service claims that private lands are vulnerable, the Kefauvers-like many other farmers in the area-have preserved the agricul tural and historical character of the region. Their incentive is pride of ownership and a unique her itage to pass on to their children. Private stewardship has not gone entirely unno ticed at Antietam. Recognizing the pride of the people in their community and their resistance to the commercialism that characterizes many other battlefields, the National Trust for Historic Preser vation paid tribute to local preservation efforts. A 1991 letter to residents concerned about public acquisition stated: "... we commend the steward ship that local landowners have demonstrated at Antietam and view continued farming operations as appropriate to the historic character of the bat tlefield and its vicinity."

Perhaps the most ambitious plan put together by the NPS and preservationists to seize private land is called "Preserving Richmond's Battle229 fields," released in early 1991. The plan proposes "green-lining" (targeting for preservation) 250,000 acres on the outskirts of Richmond, 95 percent of which is privately owned. In the works since 1987, the plan recommends designation of potential areas for NPS acquisition, and Federal review of construction plans on remaining private lands. Much like Antietam's master plan, the Richmond plan would intensify tourist amenities through the construction of "her itage interpretive sites." Is PublicOwnershipthe Solution? Contrary to NPS rhetoric about the vulnerability of privately owned historic property, historic struc tures under the aegis of the NPS do not bear out that public ownership is the solution. At Antietam, the farmhouses under park management (many of which are on the National Register of Historic Places) are in such disrepair that they are literally fallinginto the historic ground upon which they sit.

A 1991 report of the National Parks and Con servation Association, a private foundation and NPS lobbyist, concluded that the NPS is unable to maintain and operate the facilities it already owns nationwide. The report, A Race Against Time: Five Threats That Endanger America's National Parks and the Solutions to Avert Them, estimated a maintenance backlog of $2 billion and a major repairs backlog of $5 billion. Despite maintenance backlogs and groaning Federal budgets, the NPS has appropriated $500,000for still more land acquisition at Antie~ tam this year. The funds will be used to purchase 93 acres of farmland, taking more private land off county tax rolls and putting the burden of its upkeep on the public. Year after year, this wasteful scenario is repeated, tearing away at the vestigesof privately owned land inside the battlefield. Before the ink dries on a newly acquired deed, plans are being laid to get the next piece of land.

Private landowners have been the uncelebrated protectors of Antietam's rich history. They have preserved the region, so well,in fact, that historians call it a "time capsule" battlefield..When preserva tionists recognize the invaluable role of private owners, and seize upon the mutuality of their goals, the rural landscape that is an integral part of Anti etam's legacy will be preserved for the enjoyment and enrichment of future generations. 0 230 The Case of the Sighing Mechanics by Tibor R. Machan A few months ago, while Bush Adminis tration officials were twisting Japanese arms to try to convince them to stop selling well-made cars at low prices, my local service manager was attending a regional meet ing of American Mazda mechanics. It is interest ing to note how the mechanics view American auto workers. At the Mazda meeting, an announcement was made that some of the company's minivans henceforth would be assembled in Michigan. The 27 American mechanics reacted with a collective sigh. According to the service manager, they felt that even if the parts were assembled to exacting Mazda standards, there would be repair problems because American auto workers don't perform up to Japanese standards.