Early Conservation Work Community members and scientists gather outdoors, capturing the collaborative spark at the heart of The Nature Conservancy’s beginnings. © TNC
This story—like many across The Nature Conservancy—begins with a special place and a person who loved it. It starts in a lush old-growth forest just 40 miles from New York City among a cathedral of towering hemlocks enveloping the Mianus River.
When you enter the Mianus River Gorge, you feel time slow: trees reach out from ancient rock, their roots knitting together the river’s edge while the river threads between walls cut ages ago by retreating ice.
For centuries, this gorge was a place of natural beauty and abundance. But in the 1950s, this land and all the life it harbored faced an existential threat. Forests and other natural areas were quickly being transformed into suburban sprawl to meet the post-World War II demand for housing. Tensions were high. Which places would be paved over and lost? Which ones would be saved?
Diving In for Nature
Meet Gloria Hollister
Enter Gloria Hollister, a scientist and explorer who took it upon herself to take action for nature—to think creatively, rally her neighbors and friends, follow the science and take bold risks.
Gloria had always been fascinated by the natural world. She grew up in New York City, where her father, a physician, nurtured her interest in animals and anatomy. Despite social norms that discouraged women from pursuing careers in science, she became a research associate in the Department of Tropical Research at the New York Zoological Society, specialized in fish osteology and took part in the famous Bathysphere expeditions—becoming a world record-setting ocean diver in the 1930s.
After she married, Gloria and her husband, Tony Anable, moved to the suburbs near the Mianus River. One autumn day in 1952, they came across the gorge while on a horseback ride. She described it as “a place full of serenity, majesty and great beauty.”
As a biologist, Gloria also recognized an ancient forest that was precious and vulnerable. “How long,” Gloria wrote, “could such a place survive the chainsaws and bulldozers?”
She didn’t wait for someone else to answer the question; she got to work.
A New Model for Saving Nature
During the subsequent months, Gloria rallied her neighbors and formed the Mianus River Gorge Conservation Committee. At her suggestion, they invited scientists from a newly formed group called The Nature Conservancy to assess the land’s ecological value.
TNC had formed just a year earlier, evolving from the Ecological Society of America. The ESA, founded in 1915, initially focused on scholarly research, but by the 1930s and 1940s, figures like Aldo Leopold increasingly sought to take direct action by protecting places. The Ecologists’ Union adopted the name The Nature Conservancy in 1950 and was incorporated in 1951, but the early founders didn’t know quite how or where to take action.
Gloria’s outreach supplied the first clear, local proving ground for a big idea: that private citizens could come together to protect nature, launching the conservation movement as we know it today.
Science at the Center
From this first project, TNC’s approach was grounded in science. TNC sent a multidisciplinary science team to Mianus to document its ecological values, joined together with local partners and set out to raise funds to buy the land. Purchased in 1955, Mianus became the organization’s first land acquisition. This method of combining scientific research, local leadership and financial ingenuity became a pattern TNC would repeat across the country and eventually the world.
The momentum was building. In 1954, Helen C. Butler donated 225 acres of land, creating the Arthur W. Butler Memorial Sanctuary, TNC’s first donated preserve. On Long Island, a coalition of private citizens and partners came together to protect Fire Island’s rare Sunken Forest. Deals multiplied quickly, and TNC chapters began springing up across the country.
Facing Challenges and Seizing Opportunities
And from those first acres, conservationists faced big challenges. Just months after the Mianus team began fundraising to purchase the land, a plan to raise a dam on the Mianus River threatened to flood the gorge. But together the group helped achieve a compromise that reduced the dam’s height and spared the old-growth hemlocks.
Then, on Christmas Eve, 1954, as Gloria and Tony were decorating their tree, there was a knock at the door. A landowner whose 60 acres included the part of Mianus known as the hemlock cathedral had received an offer from a real estate developer who wanted to turn it into housing. She intended to accept it unless the Mianus Committee could make a similar offer by January 1—just seven days away.
This was not money they had. With less than one week's notice, three Mianus Committee members pledged their life‑insurance policies to secure a $10,000 downpayment toward the $30,000 price, and a purchase contract was placed in the seller’s mailbox before dawn on New Year’s Day.
Creative Financing for Tangible Lasting Results
From there, the Mianus Committee rallied local residents, taking more than 400 visitors through the threatened forest. They held raffles and bake sales, gave speeches to garden clubs and published articles. But as the deadline for the final payment drew near, they were still missing critical funds.
TNC gave Gloria’s team the $7,500 they needed to follow through on their downpayment under one condition: the funding had to be in the form of a loan that would be paid back, allowing TNC to use the funds to protect other important places. That decision created the first revolving Land Protection Fund, a model that enabled rapid response to protect critical places again and again.
From 60 Acres to a Global Movement
Mianus was the first of millions of acres. What started as a modest fight to save one 60-acre forest has grown into a vast network of protected lands now encompassing more than 125 million acres worldwide. A handful of passionate volunteers has grown into a global team of some 6,000 employees, including more than 1,000 scientists, working with partners in 80+ countries and territories, all united by a common mission: to protect the lands and waters on which all life depends.
Legacy of Women Leaders
At Mianus and beyond, women have shaped this work from the start. From Gloria Hollister to Harriet Lawrence Hemenway and Minna Hall, who helped end the killing of wild birds for the feather trade; to Rachel Carson, whose 1962 book, Silent Spring, transformed public understanding of pesticide impacts and helped catalyze modern environmental protections; to Hattie Carthan, who helped build a grassroots movement for more green space in cities; to Wangari Maathai, whose Green Belt Movement empowered women to restore millions of trees; to Robin Wall Kimmerer, whose teachings deepen understanding of Indigenous relationships with land; to TNC’s CEO Jen Morris, who is steering the organization amid historic environmental urgency; and to the next generation of leaders.
Together, We Find a Way
As climate change accelerates and biodiversity declines, Gloria’s story reminds us that progress begins with people who refuse to give up.
The same approach that succeeded at Mianus Gorge—follow the science, build strong partnerships, innovate financially and invest in the future—is the approach we need now.
Deep Roots: Indigenous Relationships with the Land
Long before Gloria Hollister Anable first rode through the gorge, and long before the idea of TNC existed, the Mianus River Valley was home to generations of Indigenous communities. For thousands of years, the descendants of those first peoples inhabited the region. The Siwanoy, Mohican, Weckquaesgeek and Munsee Lenape lived, traveled and gathered throughout this region, practicing reciprocity with land and water. The Siwanoy people are associated with a local leader, Mayn Mayano. Over generations, the name for the river shifted until it became the Mianus River.
For thousands of years, Indigenous Peoples shaped the landscape with intention—using small, targeted burns to favor certain plants, setting stone weirs in river shallows to catch fish and tending the forest in ways that kept wildlife abundant and ecosystems healthy. These were sophisticated, place‑based practices designed to meet needs while leaving enough for the future.
The arrival of European settlers in the 1600s brought profound disruptions. Death, disease, forced removals, coerced land transfers and war brought by European colonists dismantled long‑standing communities and fractured relationships with these homelands.
The Wappinger were displaced after multiple conflicts with Dutch and English settlers and later joined with Munsee Lenape and Mohican communities, becoming part of present-day nations. They were forced from their homelands in what is now New York, Pennsylvania and New Jersey to Ontario, Oklahoma and Wisconsin. The Lenape maintain a presence in New York today through the Lenape Center, a reminder that these histories continue into the present.
Today, TNC in New York’s Indigenous Right Relations Program works to acknowledge this history and rebuild partnerships with Tribal Nations—expanding access to ancestral lands, supporting co‑management models and incorporating Indigenous knowledge and leadership into conservation.
Mianus River Gorge Today
Today, Mianus River Gorge is protected and cared for in partnership with Mianus River Gorge Land Trust, which manages the site as both a preserve and a focused research hub. Student scientists work in the gorge each year—monitoring wildlife, studying forest and stream health, and helping test solutions to ecological threats. Their findings guide real conservation decisions across the region.
Ongoing stewardship keeps the forest resilient: young trees are shielded from deer browse, invasive plants are reduced, meadows are restored and hemlocks receive treatments that help them withstand new pressures. Volunteers and students contribute to this hands‑on work, ensuring the gorge remains healthy and protected for generations to come.