The first time I saw the swamp was in the early '70s. I was out searching for the KLWN treasure with a friend who had grown up in the area. Walking along the railroad tracks on that gray and wintry day, I remember seeing the two acre "day-glow" green carpet from a distance. It looked sort of like an outdoor miniature golf course. Really eye catching!
The next time I saw the swamp was in the summer of 1984, more overgrown with vegetation and still a bright lime-green carpet. Walking along the railroad tracks (everybody was doing it on the way to Independence Day celebrations at Burcham Park) I noticed the backyard of a house that was trashed out all the way to the tracks. I thought this to be outrageous.
A few months later I bought an old house on Indiana Street which needed a lot of work and had a backyard view of the swamp. About three weeks after I had moved in I realized that it was "the house." I soon began a policy of putting three cans of trash (along with our family's one can) at the curb for trash pick-up -- which at that time was twice a week. One and a half years later the backyard was clean to the tracks. My thoughts of clean-up drifted across to the swamp, magnificently suitable as a movie set for King Kong's Island, but which was in fact trashed from one end to the other with "white-man" crap.
By the summer of 1985 I became acutely aware of a mosquito problem. I had spent a lot of my life near water and was used to having mosquitoes around, though never this many. For example, if I went out on the front porch I could expect to have two mosquitoes on me, but if I went into the backyard I could expect to have ten mosquitoes on me. This should not have been a surprise as my backyard was adjacent to a two acre mosquito habitat, separated by 100 feet of tall brush. That summer was the first in a string of 4th of July parties, great because the fireworks show was visible from the backyard, but notorious for the sheer numbers of mosquitoes.
At some point in the late '80s I decided something must be done about "mosquito-ville." The Douglas County Health Department was making a minimal effort to control the mosquitoes with little effect, regretting the situation but unable to really do anything. The owner of the land, Park Hetzel, regretted the situation but had no money to do anything, and the Lawrence Parks and Recreation Department regretted the situation but had no money to do anything. The city did manage to send a back-hoe, on loan from the cemetery, to dig a drainage ditch. A minimal ditch was dug, but the back-hoe could not get close enough to dig as the ground was too soft to support the weight of the machine. Fred DeVictor, head of parks and recreation, again expressed regrets and suggested that I might work on the project.
One evening I took a shovel and hoe and went down to the swamp to see if I could dig it out some myself. This was the innocent beginning of an effort that lasted for several years. Gradually, by dredging and re-dredging, the body of stagnant water was reduced to several streams and two small ponds. The surface area of mosquito spawning grounds was reduced by 90 percent. After a couple of years of hauling trash out of the wetlands, including 50 old car tires, the place was looking good. Mowed trails along the stream beds and around the ponds made for a wonderful walk in the park.
The land was donated to the city of Lawrence in the mid 1990s by Park Hetzel.
In 1998, I moved out of the Pinkney neighborhood and since then have no longer been able to maintain this little park. It is my hope, however, to generate interest and find the finances necessary to make "Peace Park" (or whatever we decide to call it) a permanent addition to the city's long list of great parks.