Opinion editor's note: Editorials represent the opinions of the Star Tribune Editorial Board, which operates independently from the newsroom.
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The last several miles of Minnehaha Creek are a crosstown ribbon though the south of Minneapolis. At points, it's possible to turn a bend and feel alone in nature. But you're surrounded by city — land altered above ground and below by human design. In their idealistic hearts, people may bemoan this state of affairs, but it's reality.
Near its eastern end, the creek flows through what once was marsh. A century ago it was engineered into a lake and municipal golf course, both bearing the name of Hiawatha and part of Theodore Wirth's grand plan for the city's park system. This is a history that some believe was an act of hubris against nature and that others, for practical reasons at least, see a need to revisit.
The ground beneath the course is peat soil saturated by rainwater and runoff. Mechanical pumping keeps the surface dry enough for play. The course also is subject to outright flooding after significant rain. These circumstances brought about a Park and Recreation Board master plan that would shrink the championship-level 18 holes of golf to nine, create a new wetland to collect floodwater, and add non-golf amenities.
In the course of this effort, supporters encountered a history that built upon the first — the collective experience of Black golfers who played at Hiawatha when it was the only place they were allowed to, ultimately working to desegregate other courses, and of those who continue to enjoy the course today. That history doesn't wish to be diminished.
The master plan for Hiawatha has come before the Park Board three times in recent years, failing each time. If that sounds decisive, it is and isn't. The most recent vote last month to advance the plan to a public hearing was denied only because of the coincidence of one commissioner's absence. Nevertheless, the board has seen a demonstration of the principle that it's easier to give than take away. The clearest description now of Hiawatha's status is "limbo."
It's possible to think the issue boils down to whether golf is a worthy use of common space or an environmental and social evil. Some expressed opinions seem to frame it that way. But there are as many facets to Hiawatha as there are dimples on a golf ball.