Former Chicagoan Tanny Hilbert was a brand-new bride that Christmas 31 years ago when she first set eyes on Galena. She remembers rounding a bend in the road in the pretty, atypically hilly terrain of northwest Illinois and seeing ”a little jewel of a town” rising on the bluffs beyond the Galena River. So strong was her sense of ”coming home” that she persuaded her new husband to move to Galena. Hilbert since has emerged as Galena`s town crier, indefatigably alerting fellow citizens to issues that threaten the town`s architectural heritage or environmental integrity.
Galena`s past is the cornerstone of its economic survival today. Once a thriving riverboat and lead-mining town, a remarkable 85 percent of its buildings are listed in the National Historic Register. Tourists come to see
”the real thing,” not a facsimile. Yet in the late 1960s urban renewal tempted Galena, and the town came close to losing a part of its history.
”They (the mayor and city council members) weren`t going for restoration, they were going for demolition,” recalls Hilbert. ”That`s beyond belief in a historic town like Galena. They were planning to tear down 27 historical buildings to build a shopping center, motel and parking lot. I had seen towns go under to urban renewal before. I had to fight it.”
Hilbert and her second husband, John, banded together with several dedicated ”natives” to do battle. When the local paper refused to print in full their letters of opposition to the urban-renewal plans, the group started their own newspaper. ”People will respond if they have the facts and understand the ramifications,” says Hilbert. ”Our job was to give them the facts.” They monitored city hall and attended council meetings, arguing against urban renewal and insisting that it be put to a vote. After a year, an exhausted council member finally gave in and agreed to the vote. In a turnout of 80 percent of registered voters, urban renewal was defeated 4 to 1, and Galena`s architectural heritage remains intact today.
Though Hilbert continued to work for the preservation of Galena`s visible history (in one of her more dramatic efforts, the freelance artist presented the city council with drawings of the windows and doorways of all the town`s major buildings, emphasizing their uniqueness and pleading for their safety), her most passionate cause has been the environment. Her vigilance in protecting the rights of Galena`s plant and animal life are legend and have led some citizens to label her eccentric. She lectures workmen cutting down trees (”A tree should be in the public domain; you should need a permit to bulldoze a wild meadow or cut down a tree”) or moving the flood plain (”If you would just raise the mower blade six inches, you would spare the baby rabbits and wildlife nests”).
She regularly confronts the Jo Daviess County Board members with arguments for ending roadside spraying and scraping; years back, her diligent efforts against the herbicide 2-4D helped convince the road commissioner to curtail its use in roadside spraying. After introducing herself to one new road commissioner, he said, ”Oh, I know who you are. It says on this piece of paper right here: `Watch out for Tanny.` ”
She has picketed in a county known for its trade in small animal furs with ”Real People Wear Fake Fur” signs and lobbied against an annual greased-pig contest. No stranger to the courts, she vigorously sues owners of neglected or abused animals. ”People are uncomfortable making waves around here,” she says. ”It`s a small town. They don`t want their neighbors to talk about them. They know that they can call me and I`ll get involved. There are times,” adds Hilbert, ”when I wish with all my heart that I didn`t have to do it. You do want to be liked. But if I think I can help, I have to speak up.”
Townspeople may refer to Hilbert as a ”royal pain-in-the-neck” and get exasperated with her unbending stands, but they generally admit that the soon- to-be grandmother, who earns her living painting pictures of Galena and its wildlife, is motivated by genuine concern and that the town is in better shape because of her efforts.
MARY BETH BERKOFF, CHICAGO
A CRUSADE AGAINST NEEDLESS DEATH ON THE ROADWAYS
Mary Beth Berkoff was driving with a friend back to the University of Michigan in 1964 when her red Corvair skidded on ice and plowed into the back of a gasoline truck. A policeman at the scene said that if they had not been wearing seat belts, she and her friend would have been killed. So began Berkoff`s lifelong commitment to car passenger safety.
Years later, in a career move that would have statewide ramifications, Berkoff accepted the part-time directorship of the Accident Prevention Program founded by Dr. Henry Betts, director of Chicago`s Rehabilitation Institute.
”Riding the elevators every day at the Institute, I saw dramatic evidence of terrible injuries that seat belts would have prevented,” Berkoff says.
”One physician told me that he had never seen a quadriplegic who had worn a seat belt. It became a matter of personal responsibility to me.”
She unearthed grim statistics: Automobile accidents are the No. 1 cause of deaths for children under 5, and 90 percent of them can be prevented. Those statistics and her belief that ”the best way to bring about safe behavior is to begin it at an early age,” led Berkoff to launch a campaign in Illinois aimed directly at child-passenger safety. One of her first steps was to introduce seat-belt commercials aimed at young children. Then, in 1980, with the firm support of Betts, she founded and became the first president of the Illinois Child Passenger Safety Association (ICPSA), a volunteer group that brought together the various organizations and individuals involved in child- passenger safety.
Berkoff`s dedication had all the earmarks of a crusade, not unlike her grandmother`s earlier work as a suffragette and freedom marcher in the `30s
(”She had a profound influence on me,” says Berkoff). When opponents of the child-safety legislation cried, ”Government interference!” and ”You can`t tell a mother what to do with her child,” Berkoff held her ground.
”Yes, it`s an infringement on personal rights, but so are immunization laws, drunk-driving prohibitions and speed limits,” she replied. When even the supportive insurance industry told her that she would never get safety-belt legislation passed, she was undaunted. ”You can never say `never,`
” she responded.
”We had a real strong story to tell at the Rehabilitation Institute,”
she continues, ”and we used the patient population to tell it.” Working almost round the clock with other professionals and laymen committed to the need for child-passenger safety legislation, Berkoff put her organizational skills and political savvy (She had directed public relations for Chicago alderman Martin Oberman`s election campaign) to work. She got parents of child-accident victims across the state to talk to the media. Pediatricians joined the campaign. She and Betts went on television. Thousands of people wrote letters to Springfield. And groups of parents and safety professionals
(including herself) lobbied legislators. In July of 1982 House Bill 68 was passed and then given an amendatory veto by Gov. Thompson. Finally, in June, 1983, the Illinois Child Passenger Protection Act was signed into law by Gov. Thompson at the Rehabilitation Institute. It requires that children from birth to age 4 be in an approved child safety seat and those aged 4 to 6 in a safety seat or seat belt.
Berkoff left the Rehabilitation Institute in 1984 to become director of Public Information and Publications for the Northwestern University Traffic Institute. Predictably she was very active in efforts toward the passage of adult seat-belt legislation, which took effect last July. ”What I`ve learned from this,” says Berkoff, ”is how much good can be done by just speaking up. Politics is really the law of the possible.”
