Legacy of Luna: The Story of a Tree, a Woman and the Struggle to Save the Redwoods

A young woman named Julia Butterfly Hill climbed a 200-foot redwood in December 1997. She didn't come down for 738 days. The tree, dubbed Luna, grows in the coastal hills of Northern California, on land owned by the Maxxam Corporation. In 1985 Maxxam acquired the previous landlord, Pacific Lumber, then proceeded to "liquidate its assets" to pay off the debt--in other words, clear-cut the old-growth redwood forest. Environmentalists charged the company with harvesting timber at a nonsustainable level. Earth First! in particular devised tree sit-ins to protest the logging. When Hill arrived on the scene after traveling cross-country on a whim, loggers were preparing to clear-cut the hillside where Luna had been growing for 1,000 years. The Legacy of Luna , part diary, part treatise, and part New Age spiritual journey, is the story of Julia Butterfly Hill's two-year arboreal odyssey. The daughter of an itinerant preacher, Hill writes of her chance meeting with California logging protesters, the blur of events leading to her ascent of the redwood, and the daily privations of living in the tallest treehouse on earth. She weathers everything from El Niño rainstorms to shock-jock media storms. More frightening are her interactions with the loggers below, who escalate the game of chicken by cutting dangerously close to Luna (eventually succeeding at killing another activist with such tactics). "'You'd better get ready for a bad hair day!'" one logger shouts up, grimly anticipating the illegal helicopter hazing she would soon get. Celebrity environmentalists like Joan Baez and Woody Harrelson stop by, too. The notoriety has, on balance, been good to Hill and her cause. George magazine named her one of the "Ten Most Fascinating People in Politics," Good Housekeeping readers nominated her one of the "Most Admired Women" in 1998, and she was featured in People 's "Most Intriguing People of the Year" issue. As a result, more Americans know about controversial forestry practices; it remains to be seen, however, whether public outrage is enough to save California's unprotected and ever-shrinking groves of redwoods. While an agreement allowed Hill to descend from her aerie and Luna to escape the saw, most of the surrounding old-growth forest in the region has been felled or will fall shortly. Still, Hill is optimistic: "Luna is only one tree. We will save her, but we will lose others. The more we stand up and demand change, though, the more things will improve." --Langdon Cook From Publishers Weekly In December 1997, Hill (who calls herself Julia Butterfly), 23, climbed 180 feet up a redwood tree she dubbed Luna to protest the logging of northern California's ancient redwood forests. She came down two years and eight days later, after negotiating a largely symbolic deal with Pacific Lumber to preserve Luna and surrounding trees. During her "tree-sit," she lived on a makeshift platform, enduring torrential storms, harassment from loggers, doubt and loneliness. Treeborne, she communicated by cell phone, drew major media attention and received visitors like Joan Baez, Bonnie Raitt and Woody Harrelson. Now a hero of the environmental movement, Hill relives her ordeal in a dramatic first-person narrative revealing just how much she saw her protest as a spiritual quest. She prays to the Universal Spirit and preaches unconditional love of all creation. Talking and praying to Luna, she hears the tree's voice speak to her, teaching her to let go, to go with the flow. Her purple-prose epiphanies, mushy New Age ruminations and anthropomorphizing of the tree blunt her story's impact, and her gosh-oh-gee professed reluctance to become a public figure smacks of disingenuousness. Even so, her firsthand expos? of destructive forest practices (only 3% of America's majestic ancient redwood forests remain) is extremely powerful, and her book, a remarkable inspirational document, records a courageous act of civil disobedience that places her squarely in the tradition of Thoreau. Illus. 15-city TV satellite tour; author tour. (Apr.) FYI: Hill has been named one of George magazine's 10 Most Fascinating People in Politics. All of her proceeds from this book will go to the nonprofit Circle of Life Foundation. Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. From Library Journal This is Hill's story of how she came to be a "tree-sitter" in Luna, a 200' tall, 1000-year-old redwood tree. The 25-year-old activist most assuredly did not set out to tree-sit, but when it became clear that there was no other way to prevent the Pacific Lumber Company from logging a redwood forest in Humboldt County, CA, she stayed for 738 days. The politics (the multimillion-dollar Headwaters deal), the power (billionaire Charles Hurwitz), and the people (Hill, loggers, and local citizens) make this an undeniably absorbing story. Hill does a good job of providing background on the issues (information that she herself first learned while in the tree) and the complexities and realities of arriving at a resolution to protect this tree and others. Hill was no warm-weather hippie; she endured incredible hardships. Readers, even those who find her "Butterfly" name off-putting, will come to appreciate her endurance, strength, and compassionate worldview. It's extraordinary to learn that Hill needed an appointment book and cell phone to respond to demands for her time while in the tree. Beyond the subject matter, this is a story of commitment and resolve. Recommended for all collections. -Nancy J. Moeckel, Miami Univ. Libs., Oxford, OH Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc. "An awesome, inspiring story from a woman who is my personal 'hera.' Julia Butterfly's two years in Luna are a death defying adventure tale, a saga of political awakening and dedication, and a record of a remarkable spiritual journey. Julia has done so much to awaken consciousness about the plight of our disappearing forests. This is book to bring hope to everyone who cares about the earth. I'd like to see it in the home of every teenager!" -- Starhawk, author of The Spiral Dance "Julia gives such special shine to the word 'possible.' I think better and with sweeter resolve knowing such as she dances in the trees...Julia answers the question: "Can one person make a difference?"...Here are some recipes for the human community to inspire anyone to action towards peace and justice." -- Patch Adams, M.D. "Julia is a lightning rod 180 atop a giant Redwood. She says, 'No more old-growth Redwoods should be cut...' She's the Joan of Arc of the Redwoods." -- Mickey Hart My respect for Julia Butterfly Hill is fathomless. At a time when so many have grown disheartened at the inability of any one person to make a difference, Julia's action has profoundly re-energized the environmental movement all over the world. She will continue to be a major force in galvanizing the call to change the way corporations and uncaring governments do business with Mother Earth. The sheer magnitude of her spending nearly two years of her young life alone, 180 feet up in a 1,000 year old Redwood through months of harassment, freezing and dangerous weather conditions, helicopter hazings and threats of starvation, is a beacon for us all for what one committed soul can accomplish.To experience Julia's unswerving dedication and love for these forests in person was a life changing event. She was literally shining. Let her light rekindle us all. -- Bonnie Raitt, Musician Visiting Julia Butterfly was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. -- Joan Baez, Musician From the Publisher It is critical to point out that Legacy of Luna is printed on paper made from 30% post-consumer recycled fibers and 70% Forestry Stewardship Council-certified paper using soy based ink. There is no more responsible paper available. It's quite insane to suggest that Julia would devote her life to saving trees only to have them sacrificed for her book. Instead, this book is a model of the sustainability available to all of us. Furthermore, it is instructive to know that she is not receiving penny from the profits of this book -- they are all going to the Circle of Life Foundation whose work is to promote sustainabiliy, restoration and preservation of life. Julia Butterfly Hill, twenty-six, is a writer, a poet, and an activist. She helped found the Circle of Life Foundation to promote the sustainability, restoration, and preservation of life. The foundation is sponsored by the nonprofit Trees Foundation, which works toward the conservation and preservation of forest ecosystems. Hill has been the recipient of many honors and awards, and is a frequent speaker for environmental conferences around the world. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter OneFighting Fear with a Fork Fierce winds ripped huge branches off the thousand-year-old redwood, sending them crashing to the ground two hundred feet below. The upper platform, where I lived, rested in branches about one hundred eighty feet in the air, twenty feet below the very top of the tree, and it was completely exposed to the storm. There was no ridge to shelter it, no trees to protect it. There was nothing. As the tree branches whipped around, they shredded the tarp that served as my shelter. Sleet and hail sliced through the tattered pieces of what used to be my roof and walls. Every new gust flipped the platform up into the air, threatening to hurl me over the edge. I was scared. I take that back. I was terrified. As a child, I experienced a tornado. That time I was scared. But that was a walk in the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon compared to this. The awesome power of Mother Nature had reduced me to a groveling half-wit fighting fear with a paper fork. Rigid with terror, I couldn't imagine how clinging to a tiny wooden platform for dear life could possibly be part of the answer to the prayer I had sent to Creation that day on the Lost Coast. I had asked for guidance on what to do with my life. I had asked for purpose. I had asked to be of service. But I certainly never figured that the revelation I sought would involve taking up residence in a tree that was being torn apart by nature's fury. Strangely enough, though, that's how it turned out. As I write this at the age of twenty-five, I've been living for more than two years in a two-hundred-foot-tall ancient redwood located on Pacific Lumber property. I have survived storms, harassment, loneliness, and doubt. I have seen the magnificence and the devastation of a forest older than almost any on Earth. I live in a tree called Luna. I am trying to save her life. Believe me, this is not what I intended to do with my own. I suppose if I look back (or down, as the case may be), my being here isn't all that accidental. I can see now that the way I was raised and what I was raised to believe probably prepared me for where I am now, high in this tree, with few possessions and plenty of convictions. I couldn't be here without some deep faith that we all are called to do something with our lives--a belief I know comes from directly from my parents, Dale and Kathy--even if that path leads us in a different direction from others. Even when I was a child, we hardly lived what people would call a normal life. Many of my early memories are full of religion. My father was an itinerant preacher who traveled the country's heartland preaching from town to town and church to church. My parents, my two brothers, Michael and Daniel, and I called a camping trailer home (excellent preparation for living on a tiny platform), and we went wherever my father preached. My parents really lived what they believed; for them, lives of true joy came from putting Jesus first, others second, and your own concerns last. Not surprisingly, we were very poor, and my parents taught us how to save money and be thrifty. Growing up this way also taught us to appreciate the simple things in life. We paid our own way as much as possible; I got my first job when I was about five years old, helping my brothers with lawn work. We'd make only a buck or so, but to us that was a lot. I had my share of fun, but I definitely grew up knowing what responsible meant. My folks taught me that it was not just taking care of myself but helping others, too. At times, like right now, I have lived hand to mouth. But I knew that sometimes the work of conveying the power of the spirit, the truth as I understood it, was as important as making money. I've always felt that as long as I was able, I was supposed to give all I've got to ensure a healthy and loving legacy for those still to come, and especially for those with no voice. That is what I've done in this tree. By the time I was in high school in Arkansas, life settled down for us, and I lived the life of an average teenager, working hard and playing hard. I knew how to have fun, and I enjoyed myself and the time I spent with my friends. I was a bit aimless, volunteering for a teen hot line here, modeling a bit there, saving money to move out on my own. I suppose I had the regular dreams of a regular person. All that changed forever, though, that night in August 1996 when the Honda hatchback I was driving was rear-ended by a Ford Bronco. The impact folded the little car like an accordion, shoving the back end of the car almost into the back of my seat. The force was so great that the stereo burst out of its console and bent the stick shift. Though I was wearing a seat belt, which prevented me from being thrown through the windshield, my head snapped back into the seat, then slammed forward onto the steering wheel, jamming my right eye into my skull. The next morning when I woke up, everything hurt. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck," I said out loud, and then I started to laugh. "Wait a minute, I was hit by a truck! " Although the symptoms didn't surface immediately, it turned out that I had suffered some brain damage. It took almost a. . . Read more