The vinyl decals, featuring salmon crying to get beyond the first of the dams, were wrinkled, the banner itself battle-scarred in places. But the message was still clear: “Un-dam the Klamath now!”
That message became fact at the end of September, when the final hunks of concrete were trucked away from the last of the four dams that had impeded fish migration for nearly a century. The world’s largest dam removal project to date was complete, and about 500 people came to a meadow about 10 miles south of the Klamath on Oct. 5 to celebrate and to look forward to the next phase of restoring an entire basin the size of West Virginia.
Leaf and Lisa Hillman, longtime fish protectors from the Karuk Tribe, called the end of the dams a healing of communities from top to bottom.
“It’s the removal of these artificial barriers that have divided our people, divided our communities, divided our natural communities,” Leaf Hillman said.
A river under restoration
The Klamath River Basin suffered a near-death experience after being subjected to more than 100 years of mismanagement and injustices against tribal communities. Governments and private industry built dams on ancestral Shasta Nation lands, replumbed the Upper Klamath Basin for agriculture and channelized a key tributary, resulting in massive amounts of phosphorus flowing into the Upper Klamath Lake and eventually, the lower river.
Salmon and other fish populations, deprived of hundreds of miles of quiet pools to lay their eggs and for the juvenile fish to survive and thrive, shrank by about 95%, which led the federal government to enact protections for some salmon populations.
Klamath Chairman William Ray said his tribe had fished the last salmon out of the river in the early 20th century after the first of the dams, Copco I, stopped fish from coming upstream to spawn.
Immediately, he said, the tribe lost 25% of its food supply. In 1984, the tribe was forced to stop fishing altogether when their other two major fish species, the c’waam and koptu, plummeted in numbers, victim to toxic waters in Upper Klamath Lake and the depleted water supplies as farmers asked for more water to be diverted for crops where the Lower Klamath Lake once stood.
The two sucker fish, a cultural touchstone for the Klamaths, were listed as endangered in 1988 and have yet to recover.
The tribe is the only one in the basin that holds treaty rights, and has made several “water calls” to keep enough water in Upper Klamath Lake to support the dwindling c’waam and koptu stocks. But that hasn’t proved to be very successful, and Ray said that he is “upset, concerned, angry and frustrated at the prospect of extinction.”
Former Klamath Tribes Chairman Jeff Mitchell, a longtime advocate for dam removal, said his tribe had suffered from the dams impeding salmon migration years before the downriver tribes.
“They could still fish for a while,” until the historic fish kill in 2002. That spurred the downriver tribes to action, and the Yurok, Karuk, Hupa and Klamath Tribes banded together to fight for the dams to come down.
Finally, after 20 years of struggle, protests, court battles and even picketing the home of Warren Buffett, whose company had assumed ownership of the dams, an agreement was reached to demolish the dams. The process started in early 2023.
The Arizona Republic traveled to the Klamath last year for a series of stories about the damage inflicted by the dams and the work to restore wildlife habitat and ancestral homelands.
Celebration marks achievement and salmon’s return
Oregon Sen. Jeff Merkley called the river’s restoration “the biggest environmental moment of my life.”
An older agreement, the Klamath Basin Restoration Agreement, showed that people in the basin agreed to the dam removals, he said. But when that agreement fell through, victim to congressional politics, it took “protesters and provocateurs to make things happen.”
Now, he said, salmon are coming back to the Klamath River, a moment celebrated by the people who live there.
“The benefits from dam removal and this reason to celebrate is for us humans, as much as It is for the natural world,” said Leaf Hillman. The natural world gains by humans allowing the natural world to be whole again, while humans gain by rebuilding relationships with the natural world.
“It is strengthening our communities, our cultures, some of which have been devastated by these dams to almost to the point of extinction, just like the fish in the basin,” Leaf said.
“People were talking at the time like, ‘You’re crazy, this is crazy, this is just ridiculous,'” Lisa Hillman said. The struggle created strife, pitting people against each other, she said.
Some people asked if water was for fish or for people. But over the years, Lisa Hillman said, the journey they undertook caused people to understand more about each other as they engaged in conversation as they completed agreements where it was once thought impossible.
Karuk Chairman Russell “Buster” Attebery recalled that as a child, the family ate fish at least four times a week.
“I attribute my mom making it to 97 next month to a healthy diet,” he said. “We felt proud to go out and fish, it was part of growing up.”
But in the 1990s, Attebery said, the salmon runs were depleted, victim to habitat loss.
“There were three of us fishing all day and not one one of us caught anything.”
Finally, with the help of other tribes and allies, Attebery said, “I’m glad to know that I won’t have to go to the river and fish all day and not catch anything.”
Yurok Vice Chairman Frankie Myers said no one individual undammed the Klamath. “No person, tribe, state or fed could have done this by themselves,” he said. “We were told to stop fighting, that it would never happen — but here we are.”
As to naysayers that the project would never happen, Myers said that “just because you’re swimming upstream doesn’t mean you’re going the wrong way.”
And researchers believe they discovered evidence that the first Chinook salmon has already pressed upstream, beyond where Iron Gate, the most upriver of the dams, once stood.
Shasta Indian Nation will restore its ancestral lands
The Shasta Indian Nation, which was promised the return of 2,800 acres of land once underneath the Copco I reservoir, will assume rehabilitation of more than 1,000 acres of those lands after signing a lease agreement with KRRC for the lands, and a restoration agreement with Resource Environmental Solutions, the company in charge of restoring the lands that emerged from draining the reservoirs.
Shasta people will incorporate their cultural values in the landscape, cultivating traditional foods for a food sovereignty program and other culturally important plants.
The lands, known as “Parcel B” lands, were handed over to California and Oregon as part of the dam removal agreement. California Gov. Gavin Newsom announced that the 300-member tribe would become the owners of the lands on the California side once the transfers are finalized.
The lands were once owned by the tribe as one of its leaders, Chief Bogus Tom Smith, labored to rebuild his community in the wake of the California Gold Rush and the atrocities wreaked upon California tribes, including a genocidal campaign in the years following U.S. statehood.
But the land was seized under eminent domain when the first of the dams began construction in the early 20th century.
The Shasta Indian Nation will work in tandem with the Yurok Tribe, which has been working on the restoration project and will continue to do so.
The tribe also toured the old power generating station handed to them by PacificCorp, the last owner of the dams. The structure will eventually be converted to a tribal cultural and education center.
Shasta Cultural Preservation Officer Sami Jo Difuntorum and other tribal leaders and elders were moved to tears as the river flowed in its original channel for the first time in more than 100 years. The river had been diverted to run the giant turbines to provide electricity to Siskiyou County and parts of southern Oregon for the first time in the early 20th century.
More work lies ahead to bring more salmon home
The celebration and the lease agreement marked the end of a critical phase of river restoration and the beginning of a new one: ensuring the salmon can make their way to their ancestral spawning grounds upstream from Upper Klamath Lake.
In August, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration allocated $3 million for salmon restoration, Merkley said, with another $11.5 million going to the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife to improve fish ladder passages on the two dams remaining on the river.
The Upper Klamath Basin also needs attention. Draining wetlands and channelizing the Sprague River to enable cattle ranching and agriculture has taken its toll on the region. The Sprague’s wetlands once filtered out phosphorus that acts as a free buffet for blue-green algae to proliferate in Upper Klamath Lake.
The toxic plants have driven the c’waam and the koptu to near-extinction, and the Klamath Tribes have been engaged in a heroic effort to keep them alive and to restore their numbers.
But at least one tribe holds out hope for the future of fish in the Klamath. Difuntorum, of the Shasta, offered the opening prayer at the dam celebration, and later looked ahead: “We will hold the welcome home salmon ceremony for the first time in decades this spring 2025.”
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