By Victor Greto
Flood control, water storage and power production are just a few of the reasons rivers across the United States have been dammed over the centuries.
Yet during this time, no dam has ever been built on the Delaware River and today it remains the longest undammed river in the eastern United States.
That claim to fame almost came to an end after major flooding in August 1955 killed hundreds of people and caused millions of dollars in damage. That’s when some residents along the middle Delaware asked for help with controlling the floods.
The federal Flood Control Act of 1962 called for a dam to be built at Tocks Island, six miles north of the Delaware Water Gap. The dam, designed for flood control and power production, would have created a 37-mile-long lake and a national park. Although the national park was created, a grass-roots movement against damming the river emerged and the proposal for the dam was eventually defeated.
“Things could have been very different had the Tocks Island Dam project succeeded,” says Ethan Huner, a naturalist who works at the Pocono Environmental Education Center. The center was created after the Tocks controversy to educate the public about the environment.
“In traditional Indian philosophy, there is no ownership of the land,” says Huner, and that includes rivers. “It only is borrowed for your short existence.”
Huner is a descendant of members of the Mi’Kmaq tribe of Canada. He says many American Indians have stories about the arrogance of dam-building that applies universally to all rivers.
In late June, outside the Shawnee Inn and Golf Resort just south of the Gap, he presented a version of one of those stories:
A long time ago, a village of people lived on a river that provided all wealth and sustenance to the tribe. Then one day the river stopped flowing, the animals dried up and died and the people began to get sick and starve.
Warriors discovered that upstream a large dam had been built and that all the water was being kept behind the dam by an ugly, giant water monster, who would give no water to the pleading tribe.
The water monster would bellow in a groggy voice, “Give him none, give him none,” to anyone who requested its precious water. He then would toss them only a bark cup full of filthy sludge.
The village summoned Koluscap, the Creator’s helper, to destroy the dam and return the water to the people and the land. Koluscap, a giant warrior, gave the water monster one last chance to compromise and share water with the tribe, but the greedy monster refused. “Give him none, give him none,” he said.
Angered by the defiance of this creature, Koluscap battled with the water monster, squeezing it until its eyes bulged and its back hunched over. He squeezed it further, until it grew smaller and smaller.
He then destroyed the dam and returned the water to all beings.
Koluscap allowed the now much smaller monster to remain in the water that it held so precious, but it would no longer have dominion over it.
You can still hear the croaks of defiance on any summer night around the water.
“Give him none, give him none.”