Since antiquity, the scout has always served as the eyes and ears of an army, the most vulnerable soldier on the field of battle.

So while taking stock of his life to date, Gedeon LaCroix, 84, remains incredulous that he survived World War II’s Pacific Theater. As an intelligence scout with the 3rd Marine Division, he served in three of the war’s bloodiest campaigns.

LaCroix’s duties, like all scouts, was to operate ahead of the main forces, and thus expose himself to danger with little support or protection. He said that his experience in the Marines was invaluable to his postwar accomplishments.

“A scout is both active and lonely, and his life expectancy in combat is measured in days,” LaCroix said. “The fact that I made it may be miraculous, but also deeply influenced the rest of my life”

Retired steel industry executive and Bennington County native Gedeon LaCroix at his farm in West Arlington. LaCroix recently reflected on his WWII service. Photo courtesy of Telly Halkias

A Bennington Boy

That life was a window on Bennington in the Roaring Twenties and the Great Depression. LaCroix’s father was a weaver at the Leonard Holden Mill, and his grandfather led a horse wagon team that helped erect the Bennington Battle Monument.

“As kids we always found time to have fun,” LaCroix said. “My friends and I would chase the milk train when it came in town from Rutland. We would run through the woods across Dewey Street and follow it across Main Street all around the base of the Monument, where the rail bed still exists today.”

LaCroix grew up on Adams Street, attended Sacred Heart School, and in 1941 graduated from Bennington High School. He then attended the University of Vermont. LaCroix said that following Pearl Harbor, campuses experienced a mass exodus of men enlisting in the service, or holding down manufacturing jobs until conscripted.

LaCroix retuned to Bennington to work at Union Carbide. In July 1942, he decided to enlist, and hitchhiked to Pittsfield, Mass. to join the Marines. LaCroix was sent to Parris Island, S.C. for basic training and then assigned to Headquarters, 1st Battalion, 21st Marines, 3rd Marine Division in San Diego.

“I didn’t even know what a Marine was, but I found out quickly,” LaCroix said. “Those three months in basic training were brutal, but looking back, necessary for what was ahead. You never really think of it much when you’re in combat because you have to instinctively go back to your training and react for survival.”

To Hell And Back

In February 1943, Private LaCroix’s unit deployed to New Zealand to help deter a potential Japanese invasion, then later to Guadalcanal for mop-up operations following the successful U.S. campaign. On Nov. 1, 1943, LaCroix’s 20th birthday, he hit the beaches of Bougainville in what was the first of his three amphibious assaults.

“The jungle was so thick on Bougainville, and it rained every day,” LaCroix said. “Our regiment landed in knee deep mud and was directly engaged with the enemy for two months. At one point, I hadn’t removed my boots in weeks. Flesh would just rot off our feet. Suddenly our past training, which is the toughest in the world, seemed like a holiday.”

Plucked from that cauldron after showing leadership under fire, LaCroix headed stateside for Officer Candidate School. After three months, an argument with administrators found him dispatched back into the Pacific Theater as a replacement.

Showing his independent Vermont streak, LaCroix circumvented the chain-of-command and convinced a ranking officer to assign him to his former unit, which invaded Guam in July 1944.

“If I was going back under fire, I wanted to go with buddies who had been through it with me before,” LaCroix said.

Following Guam, the 3rd Marine Division landed on Iwo Jima in February 1945, an operation that was estimated to take several days. By then LaCroix had been promoted to Corporal and was made acting head of his battalion’s scouts.

The battle for Iwo Jima instead lasted five weeks. During that time, LaCroix captured the first Japanese POW on the island, and earned the Purple Heart for shrapnel wounds. He also witnessed both flag raisings.

As a result of his three month break in combat duty, LaCroix did not have the amount of service points necessary to redeploy to the States following the American victory on Okinawa in 1945. By then the enlisted leader of his battalion’s scouts, he began preparing for the invasion of the Japanese mainland, an operation that historians have estimated would have cost a million American lives.

Given this, LaCroix said that he figured his end was near. But in August 1945, the U.S. used the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the war ended a month later. LaCroix recalled waiting to invade Japan, and cited examples of presidents mishandling war, first mentioning Bush with Iraq, then recalling Kennedy and Johnson with Vietnam.

But he did not include Truman as a misguided leader. Instead, in 1945, LaCroix—now fervently opposed to any nuclear weapons—became a Vermont boy who just wanted to see home again.

“I survived those campaigns, hoping I’d get back to the States,” LaCroix said. “While training to invade Japan, all I could think was that my luck had run out and I was going to die.”

Gathering No Moss

After the war LaCroix wed the former Jean Griswold, a neighbor who had grown up on nearby Safford Street in Bennington. He studied business at Middlebury College and gained an MBA from Wayne University. LaCroix then spent the next 35 years in the steel industry, rising to Vice President of Operations for the Shenango Furnace Company in Pittsburgh.

In this capacity, LaCroix oversaw four mills and a fleet of ships that hauled materiel on regional lakes and waterways. He also was the company’s first manager to promote blacks as foremen, a point of pride to this day.

But LaCroix always maintained his Green Mountain roots, buying and restoring a one-room schoolhouse in Sandgate as a vacation home.

Upon retirement in 1985, LaCroix kept up his pace. Acquiring the 36-acre farm on which they still live, the LaCroixs renovated the buildings while starting an antique business, The Farm Furniture.

Since moving back home, LaCroix was active with the local Chambers of Commerce, Planning and Zoning Commissions, and the Boy Scouts. He is also past president of the Vermont Antique Dealer’s Association.

From 1987-1991 he was chair of the Bennington County Regional Planning Commission. He served on the state Council on Regional Commissions, and was chair of the George D. Aiken Resource and Conservation District for Vermont’s southern six counties. His decade as a trustee of the Bennington Museum ended in 1998 as a Trustee Emeritus.

LaCroix said that running the farm is now a full-time occupation. He still roams its expanse with a shovel or a wheelbarrow, repairing fences, filling potholes, and performing any number of daily tasks required to maintain the property.

He credits his Marines service with demonstrating the value of loyalty in trying circumstances, and an overarching sense of communal purpose.

“My wartime experience taught me to appreciate others, however different they were from me, and the importance of working together,” LaCroix said. “In terrible times we watched each other’s backs to preserve not only our lives, but our freedom.

“As a result, we returned to society better able to achieve common goals with our neighbors.”

Telly Halkias is a writer and editor from Bennington. Email: tchalkias@aol.com.

And for what, exactly, is she training?

The Vermont 100 Endurance Run is New England’s only 100-miler, and it is one of the country’s oldest “ultras.” An ultra, according to race organizer Jim Hutchinson, “is the word for any footrace longer than a marathon.” The Vermont 100 is one of four 100-milers around the United States that make up the Grand Slam of ultrarunning.

Brenda Phillips of Plainfield plans to run eight marathons in eight weeks training for the Vermont 100. Photos courtesy of Jan Leja

The Vermont 100

The Vermont event, held in West Windsor, is also unique in that it is the only remaining combination human 100-miler/ horse-and-rider 100-miler in the country. This is appropriate because the sport of ultrarunning descended from endurance riding. In 1974 Gordy Ainsleigh, an equestrian rider, was preparing for the Western States 24-hour trail ride in California’s Sierra Nevada mountains. At the last minute, Ainsleigh discovered his horse to be lame, but he still wanted to participate. “He showed up,” said Hutchinson, “at the starting line on foot, and the race director confronted him to say, ‘You can’t do this!’” Ainsleigh demanded to be shown in the race by-laws where it said he couldn’t race on foot. There was no rule specifically prohibiting runners, and ultrarunning was born. “In thirty years the sport has spread fairly rapidly,” Hutchinson said.

“Spread rapidly” is a relative term for a sport like ultrarunning. Seriously, how fast can a sport as grueling and as difficult as running 100 miles grow? It’s an activity, says Hutchinson, where you might find yourself lying in a ditch, throwing up on yourself. “And you convince yourself,” he said, “to get up and run some more.” Hutchinson tells it like it is, because it is important that people understand what they’re getting into.

Running a 100-miler is an extreme physical and mental challenge, and young ultrarunners are rare. The average age of the Vermont event, says Hutchinson, is around 38 to 42 years-old. “Even twenty-somethings are rare,” he said. Running these extreme distances isn’t something to jump into, or an endeavor to take lightly. Mental toughness—the kind built by years, experience, and lots of running—is mandatory.

So when the 34-year-old Phillips lines up at the start of her second Vermont 100 on July 19th, it will be as a relative novice and as one of the younger participants. “I volunteered at the Vermont 100 two years ago,” she said, “and was just inspired by some of the athletes.” One of the runners who made an impact was Dot Helling, 58, of Montpelier, who has been running ultras for twenty years and has seen the sport grow. “It used to be a really small group,” said Helling, “and we were all like brothers and sisters. The circle has really grown; there are hundreds of ultrarunners now, where there used be dozens.”

In the state of Vermont, however, Helling estimates that there are still just handfuls of ultra runners. “But there are more than three,” she laughed, “and that’s how many there used to be!”

Most recreational runners never come close to running an ultra; in fact, many would have trouble comprehending what it would be like to run 100 miles, or why anyone would want to. “There are,” said Hutchinson, “at least as many answers to that question as there are ultra runners, because everybody competes for a different reason.” Some participate for the competition, and some simply to challenge themselves. Often, ultrarunners and their families plan their vacations and travels around races and running events. Most ultra participants, however, and particularly those who continue to do it, are moved by the camaraderie they experience and build out on trails in the woods during the events.

Tight Bonds

Ultrarunners form strong friendships and alliances during the hours and hours that they spend pushing and challenging themselves to go farther then they thought possible. And because the distances in ultras are so far, and they take so long—anywhere from 14 to 30 hours—to complete, most participants (with the exception of the most highly competitive) walk, talk, and socialize during the races. “Some of my best friends,” said Helling, “are people I met on the trail.”

For example, at an out-of-state, there-and-back-style trail run in the 1980s, Helling recognized Laura Farrell who was leading the pack after the turn-around point. “You’re the woman from Vermont,” Helling called out. “No,” answered Farrell, “you’re the woman from Vermont!”

Helling and Farrell became training partners and great friends. Through countless events and training runs over the years, they have shared experiences that two non-ultrarunning friends couldn’t have. “We’re tough,” said Helling, “and we so much enjoy what we’re doing. We go out and we run and run and run, and we talk and talk and talk, and it doesn’t hurt when we’re together.”

Does this mean that the secret to eliminating pain and suffering at ultra events is to find a chatty friend with whom to run? Not exactly.

Hutchinson, who has organized the Vermont 100 for seven years, sees two distinct portions in a 100-miler. The first 50 miles,” he said, “you run on training, conditioning, and knowledge of how to run a long ways. The second 50 miles is a hundred percent mental—all will-power. It’s the ability to make yourself understand and believe that no matter how much you hurt—and you will hurt horribly—you can still go on.”

In addition, it is critical to know oneself. “I constantly check in with myself,” said Laura Farrell, “as I go along to see what I’m feeling like, and not ignoring how I feel.” Farrell performs these periodic check-ins throughout long-distance races. What hurts? What doesn’t hurt? How’s her head? Her stomach? Is she hungry? Is she hydrated? “This way,” she said, “when I come in to aid stations, I know what I need to do in order to take care of myself.”

Health And Safety

In ultra events, it is not just the participants who are concerned with health and safety. Safety, said Hutchinson, “is the priority.” In the Vermont 100, as in many ultra events, it is a requirement of entry that a runner have completed a 50-miler in less than twelve hours. This way, everyone in the race has at least some idea of what is involved. On the course are 30 aid stations—21 of which are staffed throughout the 30-hour duration of the race. All of the stations have water and electrolyte replacement drinks, and the manned stations have a wide variety of food too. Finally, there are four medical stations, where runners are required to stop and submit to short physical examinations and interviews. Part of the registration process prior to the race includes a physical, so that medical personnel have a baseline of comparison. “If runners don’t meet the standards,” Hutchinson said, “they’re done.”

In addition to the aid stations, the Vermont 100 relies on over 200 volunteers— people at aid stations, bike patrollers on the course, ham radio operators, medical personnel, emergency medical technicians, and ambulance drivers. It is the rare year when somebody doesn’t get transported to a local hospital via ambulance, usually for intravenous fluid replacement. “Our first concern,” said Hutchinson, “is that runners can come here and be as safe as they can be doing something like this. There is a risk involved, but it’s a risk that participants are not only willing to take, they’re anxious to take.”

Many of the major ultra events nationwide are fund-raisers for worthy causes. Laura Farrell founded the Vermont 100 in 1988 to raise funds for another organization she founded—Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports, an organization that provides athletic opportunities for people with disabilities. One of the nation’s top female ultra runners, and the founder of VASS, Farrell felt that the two were a great fit. “I thought that a 100-miler in Vermont would be a great fund-raiser for the adaptive program,” she said. “They both involve individuals enjoying and/or challenging themselves through sports.”

Adventure, challenge, being outdoors for hours at a time motivate ultrarunners, who fashion their lives around maintaining their physical and emotional fitness. Years of running thousands of miles has taken a toll on Farrell’s knees, and these days she balances her running with biking and plenty of rest. “The most important thing,” she said, “and the reason behind running like I have—and behind starting the Vermont 100—is just my love for sports and just wanting anybody and everybody to be able to enjoy and to challenge themselves through sports.”

Meanwhile, Phillips, Helling and the other 300 participants in this year’s race will be training by regularly running farther than most people run all year. These ultrarunners will find plenty of challenges—personal, weather-wise, and terrain-wise—in the hills of West Windsor. But that’s the way they like it. “I love running ultras,” said Phillips, “because they challenge me physically and emotionally. I also love being deep in the woods—I feel self-sufficient and truly alive. It also reminds me to play and not to take my work life too seriously.”

Mark Aiken is a freelance writer from Richmond.

Buttermilk Falls, Ludlow. Photo courtesy of www.swimmingholes.info

Swimming holes abound in these Green Mountains. Finding them and exploring all that they have to offer can make for an exciting and wondrous adventure. Some are easy to spot. The line of parked cars on the roadside pullouts is a sure give away. These swimming holes are like town institutions as they have become an integral part of town life during the summer. Attracting a mixture of local folks and out of town visitors, they are melting pots of people and pets. Often crowded, they retain their natural beauty, providing everyone with the sweet, wholesome fun that only a swimming hole has to offer.

#5 Warren Falls

One such jewel is Warren Falls, located just off Route 100. With its multiple waterfalls, deep pools, natural waterslide and incredible rock formations, Warren Falls is the preeminent blueprint for all other swimming holes. Here, the Mad River flows north through a magnificent gorge that simply must be seen to be believed. There is something for everyone here from shallow water dabbling to deepwater plunging; one can easily spend a full day swimming, sliding, jumping, exploring and relaxing at Warren Falls. The one thing that you will not find here is seclusion; in a place as beautiful and accessible as this, you will nearly always have company. Come here early in the morning for a cool, shady swim and you might catch some solitude.

#4 Cady Falls

Other swimming holes are more difficult to find and therein lies some of the adventure. Cady Falls, located in Terrill Gorge along Kenfield Brook in Morristown, is some distance from the road and offers a better chance for privacy. An undersized parking area keeps the crowds down and the smaller nature of the falls makes it less of a destination. The appeal of Cady Falls is in its sense of secrecy and feeling of remoteness. Here, Kenfield Brook pours over a broad plate of rock to form an elegant, double waterfall. The soaring trees stationed on the high walls that ring the pool are like sentries, looking over the swimming hole and its visitors. Shady and cool, the splendor of Cady Falls instantly envelopes you when you approach. One of the more beautiful sounding waterfalls in Vermont, it’s easy to become mesmerized by the entire scene here.

#3-2 Buttermilk Falls

Somewhere between the awesome visual impact of Warren Falls and the sensory saturation of Cady Falls is an especially fun swimming hole called Buttermilk Falls. Spread out over a long section of Branch Brook near the town of Ludlow, Buttermilk Falls is sure to satisfy the summertime thirst for swimming. A trio of distinctly separate pools offers uniquely different swimming experiences. The uppermost long, narrow, deep pool is the most private and least visited. A small, but interesting waterfall upstream from here bears exploring. The middle pool, wide and deep, is fed by a side facing waterfall. Small rocks near the falls will occupy the children as they work up the nerve to jump, while the shallower, downstream area will keep the dogs busy chasing tennis balls all afternoon.

The final pool sits at the bottom of a gushing, gurgling waterfall with many hidden compartments. In time of low flow, this waterfall is particularly interesting and holds many surprises. The old saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover” certainly applies here. Take the time to thoroughly investigate this waterfall and you just might be surprised at what you find. Just don’t forget to swim in the bottom pool and lounge on the warm rocks above the falls too.

#1 Devil’s Gorge

Clarendon Gorge is a well known swimming hole just south of Rutland. With no waterfall, an unassuming swimming area, a bit too close to the traffic zooming up and down Route 7, a north facing cliff along the Clarendon River, a somewhat awkward rope swing and, at times, a crowd, you might think that this is not a special place at all. Though fun in its own right, the obvious swimming hole at the end of the trail from the parking lot is only half of the story. Walk, swim, trudge and scramble your way upstream, past the sharp bend in the river and discover the eerie chasm that is Devil’s Gorge. So narrow at one point, you can actually touch both sides of the chasm as you swim up to the uppermost waterfall. Deep, dark and spooky, Devil’s Gorge will test your resolve. Strong currents that can occur in this narrow channel make reaching the falls at the top of the gorge a challenge.

Perhaps now, the notion of swimming in Vermont is as clear as the water that fills these swimming holes and you’ve warmed up to the idea of taking a dip in these cold waters. But how can we be assured that we will always be able to enjoy these exceptional places? Enter the Vermont River Conservancy, which purchases waterfalls and gorges, swimming holes, lakeshores, riparian wildlife habitat, paddling and fishing areas and water related trails for conservation and, in most cases, perpetual access. Each of the swimming holes described here has been protected and perpetual access has been secured by the VRC. Through the efforts of the Vermont River Conservancy, these places, and many more like them, will remain accessible to all.

Dave Hajdasz is the New England web master for the www.swimmingholes.info website. With no rules and no lifeguards, common sense is essential to enjoying these places safely. Please swim responsibly.

It was 40 years ago that Vermont first passed its anti-billboard law and it is a sad irony that the legislature has taken a step back in time with a sly eleventh-hour amendment to the state transportation bill.

Make no doubt about it: the hand-painted mural barnside along Route 5 exhorting visitors to discover Bellows Falls is charming and Vermont-esque. But it was illegal—at least until the legislature slipped in a loophole to allow the mural to stay. The Vermont Travel Information Council was created in 1968. Since then it has been the arbiter of how Vermont’s highways are signed to assist tourists and travelers in finding cultural and recreational attractions, services and amenities as they travel the state. The council reviewed the Bellows Falls mural and determined that it was inappropriate based on existing standards that are applied to all signs along our highways.

Is it a mural or a blatant attempt to distort Vermont’s billboard law? Photo courtesy of Paul Larochelle

The local Windham County lawmakers, who wanted to help out their constituents, crafted language that was meant to be an effort narrow enough to let a sweet mural stay while prohibiting the typical hawking highway signs seen across 46 states in the nation. (Hawaii, Alaska and Maine are the only other states that ban billboards.)

The legislation says the exempt signs must be hand-painted on a structure that has been standing for at least 25 years. They must direct people to a designated downtown no more than three miles away.

Certainly that narrows the field, but it still leaves open at least 24 towns in Vermont (as of today) where these “murals” can be erected. If that’s not the proverbial camel’s nose under the tent, it at least is a classic case of how a new law can lead to unintended consequences. Communities and businesses are always looking for ways to attract customers, and they should be. But the same rules should apply to all communities and businesses, without specific exceptions for those who find the “sweet spot” carved in the Bellows Falls exception.

If there is one Golden Rule to lawmaking, it is to avoid creating exemptions that favor a few. The anti-billboard law is one of Vermont’s signature environmental achievements and it is certainly inappropriate to create a specific exemption to it—especially on the law’s 40th anniversary.

It is why the agencies of Natural Resources and Transportation, along with the Travel Information Council, opposed the exemption. It’s bad policy.

Vermont’s billboard law was the first of its kind and is beloved by Vermonters and visitors alike. It is part of our collective identity; unfortunately, the bargain lawmakers struck effectively silenced the debate on a subject near and dear to Vermonters’ hearts.

Time will tell what effects this exemption will have, but clearly the door is open to what people can classify as billboards. It’s a first significant alteration to the billboard law and it should be the last.

John Sayles is deputy secretary of the Vermont Agency of Natural Resources.

Most people like murals. And if a mural can help a struggling downtown, so much the better. But in an Orwellian twist in 2008 Vermont, hand-painted murals are being put forth as a serious threat to the beauty of our state.

Interstate highways bypass Vermont’s historic downtowns: meandering from the heart of one river village to the next is antithetical to moving things quickly. Get off an interstate in Vermont, and, hard by the interchange, you’re often faced with the familiar litany of fast food, chain motels, gas stations, car dealerships and convenience stores frantically competing for the traveler’s dollar.

Vermont’s downtowns are generally a couple of miles away, and have struggled since the Interstates arrived. A few, catering to tourists, have become prettified versions of a fantasy Vermont. Most have worked to reinvent themselves, to remain downtowns that work for Vermonters and visitors alike.

I live in Bellows Falls, population 3,500, between I-91 Exits 5 and 6, a solid lunch-bucket town with independent small businesses, a farmers market, an Art Walk, good coffee… It’s a real town, but continually about an eye-blink away from going under. There’s no advertising budget for Vermont’s small downtowns and shoppers crave what gets advertised. It’s often a stretch for our businesses to join both the Chamber of Commerce and The Downtown Development Alliance.

The Designated Downtown program was created in order to encourage the unique character of Vermont’s town centers. Originally, there were grant monies for the program, but now the benefits of being a Designated Downtown are mostly technical assistance and tax credits. To be a “Designated Downtown” one must have an organization like our volunteer-driven Downtown Alliance.

Last September we commissioned Frank Hawkins, a local “old-school brush man,” to paint a mural on the side of a barn where the exit ramp meets Route 5, alerting all those folks heading to Okemo and Killington about our little downtown. It’s cool.

In March we got a letter from the Vermont Agency of Transportation telling us to remove our “illegal sign” as it was “off premise” and “readable primarily from a limited access facility (The (sic) ramp is part of the limited access highway).” After writing the Agency to see if we could work out a solution, we were invited to meet with the “Travel Information Council” in April.

We journeyed to Montpelier to meet the Council at the National Life Building (the one whose sign is readable primarily from the Interstate). They said their hands were tied: we were in violation of the law and the “sign” must be removed. The committee did offer one glimmer of hope—there might be a legislative solution: amend the law to make the “sign” legal. They held out little chance for this, but wished us luck.

Although it was late in the legislative session, through the yeoman work of our state legislators, an amendment was added to the transportation bill: if the selectboard of a township approves, a mural can be commissioned that relates to a Designated Downtown and is within 3 miles of town. It has to be hand-painted directly on the side of a structure that has been in place for at least 25 years (to prevent opportunistic structure-placement), and it can be visible from an Interstate off-ramp. It passed.

Sadly, the Agency of Transportation immediately issued a strangely alarmist statement that Vermont’s Billboard Law was somehow endangered, and that a plague of “these things” might start popping up along roadsides like mushrooms after a rain. Some politicians gleefully attempted to make hay by trumpeting a similar line, deliberately conflating commercial free-standing billboards with hand painted murals. And, quite predictably, we have been the recipients of several anonymous missives from folks decrying our desire to obliterate Vermont’s open spaces.

Just about everybody I know supports Vermont’s “Billboard Law.” We all want to look at scenic beauty unblemished by crass commerciality. It is disingenuous to manipulate frustration with extant visual blight to demonize hand-painted murals attempting to get people to visit our struggling downtowns.

Healthy downtowns mean less sprawl. The amendment strengthens our sign law by giving a boost to our unique downtowns, helping them compete with cookie-cutter corporate America, and does so by fostering art and creativity.

I hope to see you in Bellows Falls soon. Stop by, I’ll buy you a coffee.

Charlie Hunter lives in Bellows Falls, and served as president of the Bellows Falls Downtown Development Alliance from 2007 to 2008.

Tom founded High Mowing Seeds in 1996 and since then his Wolcott-based company has grown by leaps and bounds and is now one of the only companies in the U.S. offering 100 percent certified organic seeds. Tom’s passion for seeds led him to take a stance on genetic engineering with the Safe Seed Pledge. Other seed companies also signed on to the pledge which states, in part, that “we do not knowingly buy or sell genetically engineered seeds or plants. The mechanical transfer of genetic material outside of natural reproductive methods and between genera, families or kingdoms poses great biological risks, as well as economic, political and cultural threats. We feel that genetically engineered varieties have been insufficiently tested prior to public release.” It’s this last sentence that led Tom to sue the federal government.

Photos Courtesy of High Mowing Organic Seeds.

Genetically modified (GMO) varieties that have been released to the public include crops such as corn, soybeans, cotton and canola. Genetic modification involves a complex process by which the genetic material of one organism is inserted into the genetic code of another completely different organism, or the genetics can be altered to make the plant resistant to the herbicide “Roundup.” These new varieties can then be patented and subsequently released into the environment. Once the crop is released, proliferation occurs quickly. According to The Center for Food Safety, approximately 45 percent of the U.S. corn crop and 85 percent of the soybean crop is currently planted to genetically engineered varieties.

In 2005, genetically modified alfalfa was also given the green light by the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). What was unique about alfalfa is that it was the first perennial crop to be genetically modified. However, a lawsuit was filed and last year in what was considered a landmark decision, a federal court determined the USDA had not completed a thorough risk analysis for this new breed of alfalfa and a moratorium was enacted on the sale of the seed and planting of this crop.

Until recently, the sugar beet garnered little to no attention for itself. Surprising, considering that half of all the refined sugar produced in the U.S. comes from sugar beets. However, 2008 may be the “Year of the sugar beet” as a debate builds over the deregulation of a genetically modified variety of the crop designed to be resistant to the herbicide Roundup.

On January 23rd, 2008, a lawsuit was brought against the USDA that challenged their decision to deregulate the genetically modified “Roundup Ready” sugar beet, which will allow it to be released for planting on a commercial scale. As with alfalfa, this lawsuit asserts that the USDA did not fully evaluate the risks associated with this crop’s release and resulting widespread planting, which may begin in 2008. Plaintiffs in the lawsuit in addition to High Mowing Seeds include The Center for Food Safety, the Organic Seed Alliance, and the Sierra Club.

Sugar beets are grown on approximately 1.3 million acres in this country, in states such as Washington, Oregon and California. In total, sugar beets are grown in 15 states, primarily in the western part of the country. What has Tom Stearns concerned is that this is the first genetically modified crop that will have the ability to cross with vegetable crop species, for example the closely related table beets and Swiss chard.

About 30 percent of the seed offered by High Mowing is grown on site, however seeds for beets and chard are grown for Tom by family farmers in areas such as Oregon’s Willamette Valley as well as Washington and California where the climate is more conducive to growing these crops for seed. The same areas also produce a significant crop of sugar beets for seed and there lies the potential problem.

Since the pollen of flowers of plants from the beet family is wind dispersed, the concern is that pollen from genetically modified sugar beets will drift and cross-pollinate with non-genetically modified sugar beets as well as food crops such as Swiss chard and table beets. This potential for cross-pollination is high and could easily threaten the purity of these seed lines, and as a result could fundamentally change the nature of the beet and chard seed industry.

In addition to the cross-pollination issue which could result in biological contamination of other closely related species, the lawsuit also sites other risks including the increased use of herbicide on the Roundup-resistant crop; the environmental effects, such as the potential harm to native plant species and non-target species such as birds, insects and aquatic organisms; the adverse impacts to organic production; and adverse economic impacts for farmers who will have to routinely test their crops if they wish to market them as non-GMO. Contamination of organic and non-GMO sugar beets, table beets and chard could also have devastating effects on the market prices of these crops.

Another risk is the development of weeds resistant to the herbicide Roundup, also known as “superweeds.” The idea is not theoretical. In fact, Tom points out that 11 “superweeds” resistant to the herbicide have already been identified. These new weeds will present their own challenges to both farmers and the environment, the effects of which are still unknown.

The lawsuit firmly states that the USDA failed to do a complete environmental analysis through an Environmental Impact Statement, which would evaluate the risks associated with this crop’s deregulation. Such a study takes years of research and even then, one might ask, can all the risks be fully evaluated?

A key point stated in the lawsuit that is worth noting: no agency of the federal government tests genetically modified foods for their effects on human health. And yet since there is no labeling, the consumer is not given a choice in determining whether or not to eat these foods. As with other genetically modified crops, products containing these ingredients will not be labeled as such.

Ultimately, the lawsuit claims that the USDA’s finding that the deregulation of “Roundup Ready” sugar beets as having no significant impact is “arbitrary, capricious… and without observance of procedures required by law…” Tom and the other plaintiffs are hoping that a ruling will follow the precedent set with alfalfa and halt the sales of this crop and require a more thorough review of the potential environmental impact.

The closing line of the Safe Seed Pledge summarizes what Tom does believe in: “… we wish to support agricultural progress that leads to healthier soils, genetically diverse agricultural ecosystems and ultimately healthy people and communities.” Tom stresses the fact that he believes in true agricultural progress and is not scared of new technologies or wanting to travel backwards in time. He says, “I’m excited about new technologies, but we need to bring our conscious to bear and make choices about the types of progress we want to see.”

Cheryl Bruce works for Vermont Organic Farmers, LLC., the certification branch of the Northeast Organic Farming Association of Vermont. NOFA-VT is a nonprofit organization of farmers, gardeners and consumers working to promote an economically viable and ecologically sound Vermont food system. Visit NOFA-VT online at www.nofavt.org.