How You Dune

Orville and Wilbur you know, the Ohio brothers and their flying machine having put a skinny North Carolina barrier island on the map at the beginning of the 20th Century. Seventy years later, a feisty, committed woman and a band of environmental advocates fought to preserve a section of the landscape that’s become a national treasure and signature attraction of the Outer Banks. 

Jockey’s Ridge State Park in Nags Head, N.C., is home to the tallest “living” sand dune on the East Coast, providing ocean-to-sound views and more than 400 acres of hiking areas and natural habitats. Locals this past weekend celebrated the 50th anniversary of the park, which owes its existence largely to a woman named Carolista Baum. 

Baum was a jewelry maker from central North Carolina, and she and her family set up shop on the Outer Banks every summer, her children playing on and exploring the giant dunes and maritime forests daily. One August day in 1973, her kids saw a bulldozer they hadn’t seen previously at work at the north end of their “playground.” They ran to tell Mom, who closed up shop and hustled to the work site. She stood in front of the bulldozer and told the operator and construction crew that she wasn’t moving. After a conversation with the crew, the operator stood down and left for the day. She later went back and removed the distributor cap and other pieces that disabled the ‘dozer. 

Thus began an unrelenting effort to preserve the habitat. Developers had bulldozed and built on portions of the Outer Banks in the late 1960s and early ‘70s, hoping that the sandbar would attract more tourists and visitors. Baum and others wanted to protect the Jockey’s Ridge tract but didn’t have the money to buy it from the owners. After the confrontation with the bulldozer crew, she organized a group to preserve Jockey’s Ridge. A petition drive attracted 25,000 signatures in just seven days, according to a recent piece in the Smithsonian magazine. She solicited nickels and dimes from kids and sold honorary dune space for $5 per square foot, all of which went into a kitty to promote preservation. She routinely traveled to the state capital in Raleigh to lobby legislators, among them then-Lieutenant Gov. and later Gov. Jim Hunt, to set aside funds for the land. Her group produced a documentary that aired statewide and hired a plane to fly over a North Carolina-Duke football game dragging a banner that read “Save Jockey’s Ridge.” She talked to anyone who would listen, and some who wouldn’t, about the value of preserving the land. She and her supporters spread bumper stickers that read "SOS" -- for Save Our Sand Dunes -- all over the island, according to multiple accounts. 

Baum’s efforts led to the U.S. Dept. of the Interior designating Jockey’s Ridge and nearby Nags Head Woods as National Natural Landmarks in 1974. She and fellow advocates persuaded nearby landowners to sell parcels to the Jockey’s Ridge group or to the state. One year later, the state used funds and a matching Federal grant, along with donations from the Nature Conservancy, to buy the land containing the largest dunes, according to the Smithsonian piece. The original park site of 152 acres has since grown to 426 acres, with a recently refurbished visitor center, boardwalk and designated nature trails. 

[If not for Ms. Baum, there's no this:]

Today, Jockey’s Ridge and the big dune are among the most visited parks in the state. Legend has it that the name comes from locals racing Spanish mustangs through the flat area, and dune slopes providing natural seating for spectators. Baum passed away in 1991, but her legacy lives on through her children and hundreds of stewards of the property. From personal experience, I can tell you that a hike to the top and the 360-degree panoramic views are good for the soul. It might not have turned out that way, but for one woman and a group of supporters who decided that sometimes nature should hold sway. Someone just has to draw a line in the sand.