In April 1970, recent college graduate Marchant Wentworth, now deputy legislative director for the Union of Concerned Scientists‘ climate and energy program, was hard at work at the Earth Day Headquarters on P Street in Washington, D.C.
“It was a pretty wild time,” Wentworth says of the 1970s environmental movement. “When I was at the Earth Day Headquarters, we were getting six to eight sacks of unsolicited mail a day from people all over the country, wanting to do something and wanting to be a part of something. It was pretty exciting stuff.”
Meanwhile, Martin Jennings, a 17-year-old high school senior from St. Petersburg, Fla., was volunteering to clean up local waterways and hanging posters proclaiming, “If you’re not a part of the solution, you’re a part of the problem.”
Now senior director of national accounts for MVP Publications, Jennings recalls the youthful zeal and passion he and other fledgling greenies felt in the weeks leading up to the first Earth Day, calling the event “amazing” and “incredible.”
“You have to understand what was going on — the pure, unadulterated passion that those of us my age felt [before the first Earth Day],” Jennings remembers. “We were incredibly passionate about everything we did. We thought that we could make a difference, and we acted accordingly.”
Earth911 sat down with Wentworth and Jennings to chat about grassroots activism, lovin’ Mother Earth and what it feels like to be a piece of environmental history.
Earth Day inspiration
Although the two young activists came from very different walks of life, Wentworth and Jennings had similar reasons for getting involved with Earth Day activism: They both noticed environmental impacts that were simply too significant to ignore.
Before joining the Earth Day movement, Wentworth ran across a toxic sewage discharge while doing water quality sampling in the Potomac River, which inspired the recent George Washington University grad to get involved.
“A lot of people got involved [because of local impacts],” Wentworth remembers. “They saw some nasty smoke coming out of a smokestack … or they were outraged by dead fish in their rivers.”
His passion for the environment left Wentworth so determined to get involved that he even fibbed a bit to snag his position at the Earth Day Headquarters.
“I walked in and someone asked me what I did [for a living],” Wentworth says. “I had just graduated from college, and I made up the best lie I could … I said I ‘translated scientific and technical jargon into the language of the layman.'”
“They thought that was a good idea, and they said, ‘Fine, sit over there,'” he remembers with a laugh. After that, the rest was history. The young activist worked in the headquarters for weeks leading up to the first Earth Day and continued his eco career at the nearby Washington Ecology Center.
For Jennings, the environmental call to action hit even closer to home. The high school student grew up mere blocks away from Florida’s Tampa Bay and fondly remembers swimming with friends on the lazy summer afternoons of his boyhood.
In 1969, a toxic spill in the bay shocked Jennings’ neighborhood. He and a group of friends participated in restoration projects, cleaning pelicans, seagulls and other water fowl that had been “fouled” by the disaster, the activist remembers.
In the months leading up to the first Earth Day, it became clear that local industries were dumping waste materials into the bay — a startling reality that made community members question the safety of the beloved neighborhood fixture.
“It became such where those of us who had lived there for some time changed our opinions and said, ‘Oh my gosh, we can’t swim in that water anymore!'” remembers Jennings.
Local impacts, coupled with national headlines such as the massive Santa Barbara oil spill and Ohio’s infamous Cuyahoga River fire, stirred environmental concerns among U.S. citizens. And when Wisconsin Sen. Gaylord Nelson, Maine Sen. Edmund Muskie and other forward-thinkers began preaching environmental reform on college campuses, activists from across the nation were inspired to take matters into their own hands.
“It was an electric time, there’s no question about it,” Wentworth remembers fondly. “Change seemed so accessible, and it was.”
April 22, 1970: The big day finally arrives
The first-ever Earth Day celebration was held at the University of Michigan in March 1970, where students and faculty marked the occasion with an environmental film festival and outdoor rallies and marches, Wentworth says.
On April 22, participants from coast to coast came together in observation of the first national Earth Day. The size of events ranged from small high school assemblies to a 100,000-person “human traffic jam” on Fifth Avenue in New York City.
In Washington, D.C., Wentworth and his colleagues gathered for a rally at the National Sylvan Theater. Jennings recalls a slightly more modest gathering in Florida, where he and classmates from an after-school “Free Discussion Group” met with other local activists for an outdoor celebration in town.
“These were just spontaneous demonstrations that sprung up,” Wentworth says of Earth Day merriment. “No one had ever quite seen anything like this develop. … We weren’t prepared for the outpouring of interest at all.”
So, what did it feel like after the big day came to a close?
“It was a combination of things,” says Jennings. “It was excitement. … It was a buildup of anticipation and then the inevitable letdown because it was over. We didn’t think at the time … that this was going to become an annual thing.”
After Earth Day, Wentworth and his colleagues at the Washington headquarters began the challenging task of channeling Earth Day passion into legislative reform.
“What was coming down the pike at the time was the Clean Air Act,” Wentworth remembers. “So, we worked hard to harness a lot of [Earth Day] activity to push that through.”
Ultimately, the efforts were successful, and the Clean Air Act passed by an overwhelming majority a few weeks later.
Earth Day: Then and now
As participants in the first national Earth Day and the 1970s eco movement, Wentworth and Jennings look at current Earth Day celebrations and hot-button environmental issues through a unique lens.
While many modern-day greenies are quick to point out flaws in American sustainability, these old-school activists look at the current state of the environment in a slightly more positive light — especially when compared to the rampant pollution problems that plagued communities in years past.
“In the 50s when I was growing up in Washington, the air was pretty bad; it hurt you in the back of your throat,” Wentworth recalls. “There were smog alerts daily, and now there are fewer of those.”
Jennings, who took his career in a more political direction after Earth Day by volunteering for Sen. George McGovern’s 1972 presidential campaign, seconds Wentworth’s sentiments.
“We have come an incredible distance from where we were,” Jennings says. “We don’t have rivers burning anymore, and we have the EPA. … But I think there’s always going to be room for improvement.”
So, how do current Earth Day celebrations stack up to the rallies, marches and teach-ins of the 1970s? Are we doing old-school activists proud, or is Earth Day dead?
“I think it got more publicity each and every year,” Jennings says of Earth Day. “Certainly more than we had back in 1970.”
“It’s a lot more mainstream,” Wentworth says in agreement. “People who are concerned about the environment are no longer considered ‘wacky’ or ‘kooks.'”
“I was in the streets … in 1970, but now I’m talking to legislative affairs guys saying, ‘How can we work together on energy efficiency?'” he continues, noting that the private sector is much more open to discussions about sustainability than they were in years past. “So, we’ve come a long way. It’s a long way to go, but we’ve come a long way.”
Feature image: Earth Day organizer Sen. Gaylord Nelson chats with children in a Wisconsin marshland. Photo: Flickr/Wisconsin Historical Images