I look through electronic press releases from various sources daily, seeking information that may tickle my fancy. Rarely, though, do I get one like last week’s from Vermont Fish & Wildlife that touched on three subjects relevant to Franklin County.

Most interesting was the item about a central Vermont dam-removal project. It got me thinking about the lower Green River, where there’s similar talk about removing antiquated dams that have been reduced to dilapidated monuments from a better day in Greenfield, when downtown was bustling, industry booming, blue-collar families breaking ground for backyard pools. These dysfunctional monuments to our fading industrial heritage are in many ways symbolic of 21st-century Greenfield, squeezed into a space so tight it can’t get out of its own way. But that’s discussion for another day. This is about dam-removal and its environmental benefits.

Before I get going, let me admit to being a little biased, given what happened to that section of the upper Deerfield River known colloquially as ”The No-Kill,” Thus my inclination to be more supportive of the Vermont venture at Northfield Falls’ Cox Brook Dam than our latest desperate attempt to revitalize Greenfield. My justification centers on the different sources of energy driving the sprockets of change for the two initiatives. Here in Greenfield, you have commercial whitewater people floating ideas aimed at their tills, while in Vermont the primary impetus is habitat improvement to benefit Dog River fishes. In Vermont, they’re talking stream restoration and dam removal to produce unobstructed movement of wild trout and other indigenous species. Although there is some discussion here about habitat-improvement and anadromous-fish passage, it begs the question of whether it’s genuine or contrived as the means to an end?

My own suspicion is that commercial interests are using proposed habitat restoration to facilitate government money for personal gain. If it’s the ecosystem they’re trying to improve, then I’m all for it. But, from my perspective, the undercurrent driven by self-centered commercial whitewater interests is far too strong, and frankly transparent, at this point.

When I hear or read about whitewater businessmen advocating dam removal and river-bed reconstruction to improve flow for whitewater recreation, I’m turned off. No, I can’t say I blame the entrepreneurs. Who wouldn’t want state and federal funds to recreate a river suitable for activities that fill their coffers? But anyone familiar with FERC’s contentious Deerfield River dam-relicensing meetings of the mid-1990s knows what happens when whitewater interests prevail. Ask Trout Unlimited, which fought valiantly and lost in its effort to limit river-flow for the good of the ecosystem and its anglers. The battle was won by savvy commercial whitewater investors who organized West County business people and recreational activists to push for scheduled dam releases sufficient for summer whitewater activity. Altruistic TU conservationists, some of them practicing lawyers, didn’t stand a chance in the political struggle. As usual, business carried the debate and, in the opinion of nearly all lifelong western Franklin County anglers, their Deerfield River was the pathetic victim.

On the other hand, jump two hours north to Vermont, where folks are sincerely committed to conservation and preservation. What the movers and shakers there seem to desire most is bucolic landscapes displaying an occasional solitary angler quietly pursuing a passion in an unobtrusive, artistic manner; maybe even a kayak or two, a canoe or Jon boat when stream conditions are right. A better way of thinking, in my opinion, while the whitewater folks here prefer bringing to the Green River what we already have on the Deerfield, gaily clad metropolitans screeching and banging and splashing their way along a scenic stretch of river; loud “Yahoos,” wearing a colorful mix of chartreuse, hot pink and electric blue. And that’s ignoring the vans, the buses and general commotion they bring to secluded parking areas in an otherwise pristine slice of Franklin County paradise.

Obviously, Greenfield is in a bad place these days; it aches for an economic upturn and imaginative leadership, but is this it? Or is this just another blatant example of entrepreneurial creativity trying to cash in on a public resource for private gain? The question is, what do these whitewater businesses give back to the river?

I guess, in my opinion, there’s a fine line between protecting Franklin County’s natural beauty, perhaps its greatest asset, and abusing it? So, when it comes to our woods and waters, I support harmonious balance, with conservation and preservation outweighing commercial exploitation.

Balance is certainly not a priority for those who want to siphon green from the Green.