Courtesy Chattahoochee National Recreation Area

Kettles of broad-winged hawks circled high in the sky on updrafts of warm air, as I lay on the grass near the Blue Ridge Parkway on a sunny fall day. Their swirling, southward movement (compared to boiling cauldrons, or kettles) was calming and mesmerizing: a memory I’ll never forget.

Migrating thousands of miles along the spine of the Appalachian mountains, these raptors rely on large wooded areas to rest at night. America’s “best idea”—our national park system—helps them on their way by providing protected forests. More than 800,000 acres of Appalachian land has been preserved in the Shenandoah, Blue Ridge Parkway, and Great Smoky Mountains National Parks alone. 

Writer Wallace Stegner described our national parks as “absolutely American, absolutely democratic; they reflect us at our best rather than our worst.” According to filmmaker Ken Burns: “We were the first nation in the history of mankind to say that the most special places should be set aside not for royalty, not for the rich, not for the well-connected, but for everyone and for all time.”

Some of the most unforgettable experiences in my life have taken place with family and friends in our national parks: beautiful and fascinating places where it’s possible to build strength and resilience in body and mind and learn to appreciate the non-human species on our planet. 

Chaos and Uncertainty 

The federal government invests $3.6 billion in our national parks, serves more than 330 million people annually, and generates an astonishing $55 billion in economic output: a return on investment of 1500%! Despite being understaffed and saddled with deferred maintenance projects totaling more than $20 billion, the National Park Service (NPS) has managed to deliver outstanding recreational opportunities, while safeguarding the natural treasures that belong to every American. 

Today, however, it’s a different story. Chaos and uncertainty reign throughout the park system and among the people it serves. Immediately after taking office, the environmentally hostile Trump regime began an attack on our national parks—and on dozens of other Congressionally approved federal programs. 

Within weeks, nine percent of NPS staff were lost to mass, indiscriminate firings and resignations, on top of a hiring freeze on vacancies. While some positions have been reinstated by court mandate, it’s uncertain whether former employees will return, and more layoffs are expected during an anticipated reduction in force. Additionally, credit cards have been frozen, preventing park staff from buying needed supplies and paying contractors and utility bills. Contracts over $50,000 are being delayed, undermining maintenance work. Thirty-two NPS leases are on hold, threatening the closing of visitor centers, park headquarters, centers for dispatch and public safety, and maintenance facilities.

Why is this happening? Why is this beloved federal program—which significantly boosts local economies and costs less than one-fifteenth of one percent of the federal budget—under such a vicious assault?  

Does the Trump regime intend to privatize our national parks, selling them to the highest bidder for private gain through extraction and exploitation? Is this some sort of revenge scheme on the part of officials who abhor regulations, even those that protect natural heritage areas? Or, are they dismantling an institution that might harbor opponents (scientists, environmentalists, and nature lovers): a classic move in the authoritarian playbook? The answer may be all of the above. 

Close to Home 

Three hours north of Atlanta lies the most visited national park in the system—Great Smoky Mountains, a half-million-acre hotspot of beauty and biodiversity. I’ve seen synchronous fireflies produce their light show, blinking in unison in a pitch-black forest. From Cliff Tops near Mt. LeConte Lodge—the highest guest lodge in the eastern U.S.—I’ve watched the sun set in rainbow sherbet colors over hazy blue mountains. 

I’ve admired a mother bear and two cubs playing along a mountain stream. I’ve sought and found pink lady’s slippers, Dutchman’s breeches, painted trilliums, spring beauties, and other wildflowers. And, I’ve climbed to Ramsey Cascades, the tallest waterfall in the park with a 100’ vertical drop. All powerful memories.

Twelve million people visit the Smokies every year. Already underfunded and understaffed, the park now has a dozen fewer employees, according to reports. Even if they are reinstated and willing to return, they face uncertainty and turmoil with more planned staff reductions and a clear message from above that parks aren’t a priority. 

The Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area is reported to have lost four staff members. With frozen vacancies and less than two dozen people to manage a 48-mile linear park before the cuts, according to one source, visitor safety could be at risk this summer. Georgia has ten additional units of the national park system that are also threatened, despite their positive impact on local economies.   

Shaken and Scared 

I’ve spoken with employees who are visibly shaken and scared, not knowing if an email will end the careers they love. They are frightened to talk about any topic related to their parks because the Trump regime has told them not to make any public statements without prior approval from headquarters. Most of these individuals took jobs with the NPS because of their passion to protect the environment and help people safely enjoy spectacular landscapes; they also save lives and make children smile. 

Without sufficient staff, you may find the following on your next visit to a national park: closed or poorly maintained bathrooms, reduced hours at—or closed—visitor centers, fewer open campgrounds, canceled ranger-led tours, overflowing trash cans, and long lines at the entrance gates. Be prepared—and please be kind to the park staff. They’re doing the best they can with the cards they’ve been dealt.   Contact your Congressional representatives to express your views at congress.gov/members/find-your-member. Don’t forget to support organizations like the National Parks Conservation Association that advocate for our parks. Find out more at npca.org.

Sally Bethea is the retired executive director of Chattahoochee Riverkeeper and an environmental and sustainability advocate. Her award-winning Above the Waterline column appears monthly in Atlanta Intown.