A Tale of Two Cities......
BURNING MAN IN 1997
An Account by Larry Harvey - September 11, 1997

The story of Burning Man in 1997 is twofold. Upon the one hand, it is the tale of a community and city which achieved a new awareness of itself. Participants and planners addressed new challenges this year. "quot;Can Black Rock City continue to grow?"quot;, many asked. Skeptics said that our increasing numbers would produce a collapse -- passive onlookers would blunt creative participation, public rules would stifle freedom or, worse yet, freedom itself would spiral out of control and degenerate into anti-social chaos. Misinformed officials, mistaking expressiveness for anarchy, thought us motivated by a crude yearning to destroy and burn and sweep aside all things of value. We were labeled "quot;locusts"quot; by a member of the Washoe County Commission, representatives of our project were silenced in public forums, and criminal background checks were required of the seven managers of Burning Man. But, perhaps most troubling of all, participants themselves, the ultimate creators of Black Rock City, were at times in doubt. Could this unique experience survive transplantation to a new environment? Could we survive as a community?

The good news in 1997 is that Burning Man has achieved a stunning success . The supposed calamities that were summoned up by fear and ignorance in advance of our event -- the threat of massive fires, mob behavior or vandalism -- never materialized. Instead, this year's effort produced what is inarguably the most vibrant and creative celebration of community that has ever occurred in the entire history of Burning Man. Participants streamed to us from 50 states and 14 countries, custom campsites of a dazzling array of designs multiplied, and ambitious works of public art, donated by artists from around the world, spangled the barren face of the playa in an abundance we have never before witnessed. Theme camps -- perhaps the surest measure of creative effort within the expressive world of Burning Man -- more than quadrupled. These Theme Camps are intensely personal visions specially designed and self-funded by participants as gifts to everyone who attends the festival. They are a form of communion with others. Nearly everyone I've talked to who participated in our festival speaks to me of a growing sense of a common identity with other citizens of this densely interactive city we've created. Clearly, the message we've worked tirelessly to communicate is beginning to be understood: Burning Man is a place to do and to be, a place of gift-giving and sharing, not an arena of passive mass consumption.

The second tale of our city, however, does not at all concern the direct experience of Burning Man. Rather, it is a story of tribulation and struggle forced upon our city by the world around it. Our decision earlier this year to relocate from the Black Rock Desert to the shores of Hualpai Flat was not (contrary to popular report) forced upon us by our former landlords, the Bureau of Land Management. If anything, I think they were somewhat wistful at our departure. The move was made by us for the purpose of securing public boundaries. It is this reform that has allowed our community to control the use of motorized vehicles. This change of venue also led us from the public lands that we had formerly occupied onto private property regulated by the laws of Washoe County. The seat of Washoe County is Reno, its governing body is the County Board of Commissioners, and it is to them that we applied in March for the necessary permits.

In fairness, I should say that this outdoor festival permit, drafted in 1991, had never before been issued to an applicant. Ours was something of a test case, a first trial run of this legislation. Therefore, it is natural that there should be uncertainties and hesitation in its application to an actual event. However, from the first, something seemed wrong. Our initial contacts with the various agencies charged with its administration -- fire, police and health -- were cooperative and cordial. Yet, immediately following a caucus of the Commission, all of this changed. Estimates of County services and costs ballooned. Our chief concern at our new site was, of course, fire protection. Our proposed campground, as we were perfectly aware, lay adjacent to flammable brush. Yet when estimates of necessary fire protection suddenly tripled, representing eventually over a quarter of a million dollars, we were shocked. Hoping to negotiate a more equitable solution we attempted to engage in a dialogue with the Truckee Meadows Fire District, the mandated provider, but were eventually informed that no negotiation was possible. Worse yet, as this process proceeded, we discovered that this bid for services was closed and that, in effect, we were being forced accept this estimate of cost. Research showed us that the prescribed service was available from other sources at a cost $100,000 less than the charges required, yet after our Commission hearing on July 8, at which we successfully demonstrated that our plans, contained in a compendious document one inch thick, were in compliance with the law, all avenues of communication were suddenly closed to us. We were finally informed that all communications at formal hearings and with individual agencies must be conducted through our consultant, a former employee of the County planning agency. We were, in effect, banned from speaking directly to anyone.

From there, I may fairly say, it was all downhill. At our July 8 hearing the Commissioners required, in an almost off-handed way, that we provide the county with a letter of credit for $500,000 -- an unheard of procedure -- to insure that all mandated costs would be met. The stated justification for requiring that we directly pay to a bank such a large sum of cash was that we had not paid our land use fee for the previous year to the Bureau of Land Management in one lump sum. This was in fact, paid to them by mutual agreement, in three installments. A perfectly ordinary arrangement. The money the county now requested represented more than twice our entire income in the preceding year. At a later Commission meeting it was even suggested that of all of our pre-event ticket sales income be seized. The actual money we possessed at that time was, of course, a tiny fraction of what we had taken in, since most of our capital, dribbling in from early receipts, had been expended on the necessary overhead required to prepare for the event. Many of these expenditures, in fact, were paid out to provide for land improvements which, in addition to mandated services, were required by the County itself and we were therefore forced to resort to loans. At this same meeting, I recall, a commissioner labeled us and all participants in our festival "quot;locusts"quot;. It was suggested that fire-hungry mobs, in search of combustibles, would ravage local land in search of firewood (though in fact there was but one tree in the vicinity of our site). Indeed, as the deadline for our event drew near, more alarming statements issued from the Commission. It was predicted that we were unstoppable. Crowd estimates ranging from 20 to 30,000 attendees were circulated (though, in fact, our application was for 9 to 12,000 participants) and it was announced that massive roadblocks, necessary to control such an unruly horde, might be necessary.

During all of this time, though our permit had been granted, final approval for the event was withheld. We estimate that up to 2,000 people failed to attend this years festival due to fears that they would be ensnared in a violent police confrontation. Others, hearing widespread reports that it might not occur, must as surely have stayed home. It was also during this final agonizing countdown, that even more costly requirements were added capriciously to the final bill. One last minute provision actually insured the County firefighters (44 in all, to be housed and fed by us and paid overtime) against their failure to perform their duty. This alone cost us an additional $17,000 and forced us to seek coverage from Lloyds of London, the only insurer willing to undertake it.

Eventually, all of the County's requirements were met. However, since we were unable, to no ones surprise, to supply payment of the massive costs of service in advance, it was dictated, one week before the festival, that we must surrender half of our then-current income into an escrow account for the County. This we acceded to and agreed, having absolutly no choice in the matter, that we would additionally pay the county a full 50% of all gate receipts on a daily basis at the event itself. However, a mere 18 hours before we were scheduled to open our gate, the Commissioners again changed their minds. Now they demanded 100% of our receipts, an idea apparently tossed off in the final fifteen minutes of their meeting. Some vague provision was made for supplying us with money for "quot;emergency costs"quot; during the event, but this was never defined and no plan for doing this was offered. The County Sheriff was simply instructed to commandeer our box office and seize both money and tickets, and this procedure, in turn, made it impossible to account for the numbers of participants or meet contractual commitments made, on the basis of our understanding of but one week previous, to our landlord for payment at the site.

The resultant confusion at the festival itself was massive. For one 24 hour period, we were in imminent danger of loosing all power since we were unable to pay for the rental of our primary generator, the loss of which would have eliminated our entire communications system and public lighting. Among many mandated services, we were required to furnish all firefighters with air conditioned lodging, flush toilets, food service, and running water at the site at our direct expense. However, upon their arrival, the supervising staff of the fire protection agencies decided, on the instant, that they wouldn't use this service. Citing the "quot;party atmosphere"quot; at Fly Ranch (an area 1 mile distant from the festival and entirely populated by other County workers) they elected, instead, to cross the road and stay in tents, thus negating the $10,000 we had paid to purchase and equip these air-conditioned housing units.

In the aftermath, I should observe that there were, of course, no serious fires. The County may yet claim credit for this achievement, though it seems unlikely that the mere presence of firemen on the hill and mostly out of sight, inhibited the natural process of combustion. The real reason for our lack of fire problems is that participants themselves scrupulously followed the carefully drafted safety rules we independently promulgated. Also, during this six-day period, Black Rock City netted two arrests out of a population of 10,000 people -- a remarkable record, and one unmatched by any other civic entity in Nevada. The story of one of these incidents, the most serious, is particularly instructive. Neighbors, who reportedly observed a person lighting random ground fires at his campsite and brandishing a firearm, promptly reported this to a Black Rock Ranger who contacted senior Ranger personnel. After talking to the individual, they alerted County authorities. All of this was done according to our plan, our pre-arranged protocol, and represents our willing cooperation with the Washoe County Sheriff's Office. More importantly, however, it forms an apt example of our community's ability to police itself. It seems dubious, at best, to suppose that the constant strafing of our city by a police helicopter cruising at dangerously low altitudes did anything to inhibit public disorders. The plain fact is, there was no serious crime.

We have yet to receive any accounting for the services we can only assume were provided. We have no means of accounting for them. A demand has been made that we explain what we have done with all money we collected months previous to the event, though that, of course, was never subject to any form of agreement. $25,000 of the money paid by us to the County, originally earmarked for cleanup of the site, which lies wholly on private property, has now apparently been recategorized as "quot;Other"quot; -- a novel billing procedure. We are currently struggling to complete our cleanup with volunteer help, for, as no one disputes, our environmental record and our cleanup efforts in the past are nearly legendary. Having collected the last available dollar on Sunday evening, Sheriff's deputies retired with a sum that finally totaled, according to their own accounting, $302,000. Our paid attendance at the event, as best we can calculate, is in the vicinity of 9,000 people. Total attendance may total 10,000 to 10,500 participants.

Many outstanding questions remain. Whether much of this was legal is certainly to be considered and we are gathering facts. A volunteer team of attorneys is being assembled. Indeed, among the many professional people who attend our festival, there were numerous attorneys and I am sure they will be quite enthusiastic in our cause. Whether it was fair is hardly an issue. Research has yielded us interesting facts. We have learned, for instance, that an event known as "quot;Hot August Nights"quot; is annually mounted in Reno and costs assessed to it by Washoe County are in no way comparable to those imposed on our event. Indeed, law enforcement fees for this event, which features hot rods, massive crowds and widespread drunkenness, are actually defrayed by the sum of $10,000 by the Sheriff's Department itself. At the same time, of course, this entertainment recently yielded 382 citations and one stabbing. Whether this, in comparison with our own event, constitutes equal protection under the law is an issue that can only be decided in another forum.

The final question, of course, is why this had to happen, and to answer this question I am indeed hard pressed. The Convention and Visitors Bureau, located in Reno, has actually claimed that Burning Man provides the city with little income, creating only wildnerness campsites -- a bizarre statement. The great economic benefit which we represent to Washoe County is unquestionable. Washoe County depends upon its gas tax -- one of the highest in the nation -- for much of its income. Even a casual inventory of the vehicles and, in particular, the RV's attracted to our event, makes clear that we are a significant contributor to the tax base. Beyond this, many of the hundreds of vehicles, trailers and trucks in evidence in our city were rented from Reno, and this is to merely scratch the surface. Hotel rooms, casino visits and moneys spent on stores and provisions in the local area combine to create a picture of what are millions of dollars accruing to the County, to say nothing of the local bonanza represented by business in the tens of thousands of dollars spent by our project itself. Even our Website has been designed to furnish a guide to local attractions and businesses in the city of Reno. Obviously, many, indeed a majority, of current participants hail from the San Francisco Bay Area and Silicon Valley -- the natural market for casinos. In addition, the local towns of Gerlach and Empire have benefited mightily and they stand solidly behind us (though apparently their voice is little heeded in the County). The only vending of goods allowed at our festival, conducted at our frontier store, has been completely allocated to support school funds and social services in the local community. All this, then, being the case, why have we and our participants been treated so prejudicially?

In answer to the foregoing question I can only speculate. Fear and ignorance were present, certainly. Although we have attempted to educate local authorities concerning our identity as a responsible community, and have undoubtedly proven this in the course of this year's event, our reception has been uniformly adverse. I think I may hazard a guess that plain old fashioned censorship has been at play. And finally, there may also be present another human motive -- as inveterate and enduring as fear and ignorance -- and that, of course, is love of gain. We do know that very few brush or forest fires have occurred in Washoe County region this year, and that is bad, from an economic point of view, for the Truckee Meadows Fire District, whose income is dependent on the actual services they produce. This year's income from Burning Man, by far the largest part of our bill, will significantly defray that shortfall. Officials do not simply wake up one morning and declare that 44 firefighters and 8 fire engines are necessary to combat a fire threat. Standards, mandated by law, are required. It is an interesting question and we intend to ascertain the facts.

This brings me to the question of what may done in the future. In regard to the County, we have not given up hope. The many positive accounts produced in the media may yet open the minds of the politicians who sit on the County Commission. The tense political atmosphere prior to our event did not produce a single hostile or accusatory utterance from our side. As lately as last week, on the other hand, one Commission member stated publicly that if we return we will be subject to the same costs that were imposed upon us this year. This was said in advance of any evaluation of the services supposedly provided us. However, we believe that widespread public sentiment may yet awaken the Commission to its duty. Favorable comment in the wake of our event is nearly universal, and we anticipate that the reports of supervising agencies will support this. Sheriff Kirkland himself has already stated as much in the press. This being the case, we think it will become clear that it is very bad public policy to kill the goose that lays these golden eggs. Throughout the world our event is now known as Nevada's Burning Man Festival. We represent a cultural and economic boon to this region, as many citizens of Washoe County already realize. Other counties may in future offer bids for our presence and the resultant business boon we represent. We have acted responsibly and cooperatively throughout this process and we are willing to continue to do so. Our many relationships with actual members of the County agencies at our site are uniformly cordial and, indeed, several firefighters and policemen have avowed a wish to return to our city -- but this time as participants -- and as participants we will welcome them. Lastly, we are loath to leave because of the many heartfelt friendships we have developed with individuals in Washoe County during our eight year tenure in this region. Pending future arrangements with any landowner, we would like to return. Already, news arrives that the County government may be reconsidering its position. The Reno Gazette-Journal announces that the Commission is prepared to return to us a portion of the money confiscated at our box office. This is welcome news and we will be happy to discuss a fair return of funds. Much has been learned, I am sure, upon both sides, and I see no reason we cannot now begin to develop a cooperative relationship that will benefit all concerned.

Finally, I feel I should describe the current state of Burning Man's finances. As you may imagine, the sudden seizure of all of our money has made it very difficult to meet financial obligations.

We are presently more than $150,000 in debt. Creditors include Annie Westerbeke -- our landlord at Fly Ranch, merchants in Gerlach and Reno, and staff members who have loaned thousands to the project or held charges on their credit cards. Management of Burning Man has gone unpaid. A current accounting of our expenditures in 1997 will soon appear on our Website. Officials of Washoe, anticipating 20 to 30,000 paying attendees at our event, have urged people to do the math, suggesting we have mismanaged our funds. Apparently, having once mastered addition, they have failed to learn the art of subtraction.

The good news in this crisis, however, is the extraordinary response of participants. On a personal note, I will confide that during our deepening financial crisis in the desert I told Maid Marian, our Mistress of Communication, that I had never quite believed in the finale of the movie "quot;It's A Wonderful Life"quot; -- the scene where Jimmy Stewart's neighbors rush to his aid and save the Savings and Loan. Having labored for years to organize Burning Man, I guess I assumed that most people still regard it as a party, a release, an ephemeral vision somehow miracled up by organizers, and that when the party was over those of us who have dedicated our lives to building this society would inevitably be left alone. Having gained the habit of standing back from Burning Man to guide it, I suppose I felt like an outsider. But the response of so many people who attended this year's event has drawn me back into the fold. Fund-raisers have begun, spontaneously organized by people who, until now, I have never met. Without hectoring or nagging hints, and without a targeted sales campaign, contributions have begun to appear at our Post Office box and participants are contacting our Website in growing numbers. I feel chastened, in a way, for my want of faith. Apparently the vision of a way of life that we have labored so long to create has entered the hearts of thousands of people and I am immeasurably moved. The Man, who at last is merely an assemblage of wood, a skeleton of sticks thorough which the wind may blow, has taken on a new vitality, a fierce will to live. With your help, and inspired by your example, we will begin again. Already we are planning 1998. By unveiling our finances we hope to show that if Burning Man is to continue to survive and grow we must not only pay our immediate debts, we must build a capital fund to support our future effort. During the coming year we intend to include participants in that planning process as never before. When you think about it, our greatest problem is merely money. Although this has seemed, at times, a desperate and dire situation to those of us who have organized Burning Man, money, in the end, is the least important of our resources. We thank you all and look forward to meeting you.