Mary McBee

Editor’s Note: Mary McBee is a Tama resident. Among jobs during her career was as a reporter for The Tama News-Herald and Toledo Chroincle.

Born and raised in north central Iowa, I spent my youth longing to escape those bland flatlands and to experience the spectacular natural beauty of the west. It took thirty years, but after finally relocating in the early 70’s,I spent decades basking in magnificent mountain ranges, sheer canyons, golden mesas, refreshing dry air, and breath-taking panoramic views dominant in the inner mountain west.

The human population there, which I tried mostly to avoid, was different. Free spirits, independent souls, for sure, but there was constant conflict over land uses, water access, between those who considered themselves ‘native’ (ranchers and miners, not real Native Americans) opposing ‘newcomers’, and far more. I saw developers having a hay day purchasing cheap railroad sections of land (given to railroads free a generation ago), making deals in land trades with govt. agencies, and encouraging massive growth and building everywhere. Eventually I realized that I was truly fortunate back then to be seeing the very last of what remained of the ‘old’ west, a west that would really never exist again.

I returned to Iowa in 2000, finding respite in the wooded hills of eastern Iowa and settling near my son and daughter who were members of the Meskwaki tribe. Living close to the tribe was refreshing.. a grounded people with deep history and strong community ties, along with a perspective that embraced the natural lands rather than encouraging consumption and continual growth. Growth came, more than many wanted, but it was always scrutinized and ‘growth,’ itself, was not a goal.

I live in a little house in a nearby small town. I can walk two blocks to my doctor, two blocks to my library, three blocks to a nature trail or the post office, all while meeting nary 1-2 cars. I go up the road a short mile to a local Fareway store that offers great selections and where friendly high school boys still tote groceries to my car. If I need harder-to-find items from bigger stores, I drive twenty miles to a larger nearby town, all with little traffic en route. There’s no shortage of water here, and even though we’ve polluted more than we should, we’re working on cleaning it up – at least we’re not running out.

I know my neighbors; I know their pets, their parents, and often, their grandparents. I know what lands their ancestors came from. I know what politics each favors, and though we may disagree, we remain respectful; we need each other, if not today, then perhaps tomorrow. I have a local mechanic I rely heavily upon for honest analysis and assistance. If flood water backs up in the street in the middle of the night, I call our local town water manager at home and get immediate action.

Now, each time I make return visits to the west, I see unbelievably explosive population growth and development. Traffic anywhere near most livable areas (i.e. where there’s available water) is horrific, almost as bad as it has long been in our over-populated east. There’s development in nearly every canyon, on mesa’s and plains, even on steep mountain sides. Battles are constant over energy and water sources. But mostly, for me, the sheer number of people is completely overwhelming.

Upon arriving back home, I’m incredibly relieved. Now, I hope everyone who’s on the move doesn’t stop here in Iowa. But if they do, and if they ask, I’ll tell them of all the grand beauty in those places – and hope they keep right on going.

-Mary McBee, November, 2015