Remarks by Walter J. Hickel

Remarks by Walter J. Hickel I'm s o r r y that I am unable to be with you in Santa Barbara! You are to be commended for continuing your conference in spite of the devastating attack on the East Coast. Ever since I saw the news of the attack I have had a persistent question in my mind. Not "Who did it?" But "W hy?" I don't know all of the answers to that complex question. But I do believe that one of those answers is connected with what I have to say today. America is a nation of hope. But some people, for generations, have had no hope. In a time of great afflu­ ence in parts of the world, there is deep desperation elsewhere. And I want to address how to eradicate world poverty. Sixty-one years ago, I made my first visit to Santa Barbara. When I thought of being with you this week, my mind flashed back 30 years when I arrived from D.C. to inspect the oil spill. That time was also a time of disaster. And that disaster would also change our world. Just as Rachel Carson's book The Silent Spring educated our nation on the dangers of pollution, the crisis created by Union Oil's Platform A on January 27, 1969, mobilized America to action. The issues that emerged from that disaster and the confrontation that followed defined many of the global realities we have lived with since. When oil was found on the waters in your beautiful channel, it made the American people mad. They were already upset by smogfilled skies, junk in their neighborhoods, and polluted waters. With this dramatic event, their simmering concerns boiled over in out­ rage. And I had to do something. When I arrived there, I had only held the job of U.S. Secretary of the Interior for 4 days. The Senate had stretched out my confirmation hearings as all kinds of charges were leveled against me. Finally, Committee Chair Scoop Jackson announced that "All the charges against Wally Hickel just blew up." But I was exhausted. My wife, Ermalee, and I were resting at Camp David, the presi­ dential retreat, when I had a call from my executive assistant. He reported on the oil spill there and suggested that I should view the site myself. "Get me an airplane," I told him. In a small Jet Star, we flew directly from D.C., arriving in Santa Barbara at 9 in the evening. 150 APCG YEARBOOK • Volume 64 • 2002 After driving through an angry mob, we were taken to the Coast Guard station, where we were given a 3-hour briefing. The photos and firsthand reports disturbed me. At 1 o'clock in the morning, we drove to the Biltmore Hotel. Fred Hartley, Union Oil's CEO, was waiting in the lobby. I knew Fred, and I liked him, but he and I were soon in a shouting match. "Fred, if this is as bad as it looks, I'm going to shut you down," I said. "You don't have the authority," he growled. "Well, by God, I just gave myself that authority," I growled back. The next morning I climbed into a small Coast Guard aircraft with the holdover solicitor from the Interior Department. We flew low over the oily waters. It was obvious that a shift in wind would drive thousands of barrels of thick crude oil onto your beautiful beaches. I had to think fast, because the public and the press would demand to know what we were going to do as soon as we landed. I discussed the alternatives with the solicitor, the Department's lead attorney. He told me we had no legal resource to stop the drilling, even briefly. But my gut told me differently. Something had to be done. The concerns of the people of Santa Barbara—in fact, the con­ cerns of the entire nation—deserved to be heard. The water, the beaches, the waterfowl, the marine life all needed protection. And yet, there was a fine line to walk—that invisible line that those who serve the public must walk. The...