For the

LoveLake
The beloved
campus landmark
is restored by
a community
committed to
creation care

20

Summer 2012

of

Valentine

by Erik Gruber 06

Lake Valentine has been at the heart of Bethel life for 50 years,
setting the scene for countless intimate conversations between
friends, adventures that shaped the Bethel experience, and moments
of solitude to listen and reflect. When the weathers warm, students
might throw a line in the water or walk the nature trail. In winter,
they use the frozen lake for broomball and cross-country skiing. And
then there are the infamous lakeside define the relationship walks,
familiar to Bethel couples from one generation to the next. Everyone
who has attended Bethel has experienced Lake Valentine.

photo by Dean Riggott

But not everyone knows the lakes story. The tranquil waters of this
iconic campus landmark have a rather murky history.

Bethel University

21

In 1986, Bob Kistler, now senior faculty instructional

technology consultant, joined Bethels biology department.
Trained as an ecologist, Kistler considered himself an applied
scientist, using his expertise and training to make changes that
benefited the natural creation, he explains.
Kistler was drawn to Bethel by the unique beauty of a
campus offering tall-grass prairie, uplands, lowlands, wetlands,
oak savannah, and a lake. But when he arrived, he noticed
immediately that Lake Valentine was in trouble. The water was
cloudy and had a stagnant odor. Fish were dying. You couldnt
see into the water more than a foot, he says. It was filled with
blue-green algae.
Kistlers passion for applied science was ignited. First he
had to figure out what, exactly, was going on. He learned that
Bethels campus is part of the Rice Creek Watershed District,
a series of connected lakes, wetlands, streams, and ditches
covering about 186 square miles of Anoka, Hennepin, Ramsey,
and Washington Counties in Minnesota. Starting near Forest
Lake and flowing southwest toward the Mississippi River, the
water system covers such a large area, collecting pollutants and
sediments throughout, that watershed management becomes
extremely important.
Healthy lakes and wetlands have a natural buffer zone of
cattails, wild grasses, and aquatic plants that act as a filter to
catch pollutants before they enter the water. But in the 1980s,
says Kistler, the management practice in the northern Twin
Cities was to mow [the vegetation] right down to the water
line. It was an aesthetic decision. The perception was that creek
systems and wetlands were unsightly.

Out of Genesis, our call is to take care of

creation. And we can take tangible steps to do
that right here on campus.

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Summer 2012

Sara Wyse, assistant professor of biological sciences

photo courtesy of the History Center

A Lake in Peril

A view of the dock and lake, circa 1970s.

When that buffer zone was cut down, chemicals and fertilizers
from paved roads and manicured lawns ran off into the
watershed. Those chemicals wreaked havoc in Lake Valentine.
Algae quickly takes advantage of the excess fertilizer, explains
Jeff Port, professor of biological sciences. It likes the nitrogen and
phosphorous. When those nutrients become abundant because of
runoff, you get an algal bloom and the blue-green slime that we
associate with a lot of lakes in Minnesota. As summer progresses,
the algae dies and the decomposition draws the oxygen out of the
water. The lake freezes over and there isnt enough oxygen for fish
to survive. Come spring we have fish kills.

Increasing Awareness
To break this toxic cycle, Kistler rolled up his sleeves and
took on the hard work of educating the Bethel community. He
talked to administrators about water management practices,
and worked with colleagues and students to raise awareness of
Lake Valentines condition. One of his first projects was teaming
with Professor of Chemistry Ken Rohly to establish Bethels
environmental studies program, giving students an academic
option that focused on environmental issues and included
research on Lake Valentine.

Gods Miracle on Lake Valentine

really a nice property. How do we get Dupont to pay
attention to us? Kronholm told President Lundquist about
a contact in Duponts main office, and the president talked
to him. Nothing happened at the time, but later, Dupont
approached Bethel and said If youre still interested
There was no other explanation that I know of.

photo courtesy of the History Center

Before Bethel built the campus we know today, Lake

Valentine was just a small body of water on an undeveloped
patch of land in Arden Hills, Minnesota. The land was owned
by E.I. du Pont de Nemours and Company, commonly called
Dupont, a 200-year-old chemical company that made its
name producing black powder and high explosives in the
late 19th and early 20th centuries. Duponts success was due
largely to military contracts. The company produced half the
gunpowder used by the Union Army during the Civil War and
was a major munitions supplier for the Allies during World
War I. Dupont bought the land in Arden Hills in 1913 to
store commercial dynamite.
Following World War I, Duponts interests diversified and
the company shifted its focus to developing new materials.
During this period they discovered neoprene, nylon, and
Teflon, created the first synthetic rubber, and played a major
role in the development of modern body armor. And that was
the state of things in 1959, when Bethel President Carl H.
Lundquist made a phone call to Dupont.
At the time, Bethel was a small college and seminary
with a 10-acre campus in St. Paul. The school was thriving
and Lundquist knew it would soon outgrow its facilities. He
believed the 235 acres owned by Dupont would provide
the perfect setting for a new campus, with Lake Valentine
as the backdrop. There was just one problem: Dupont
wasnt selling. At least not at first. Safely storing dynamite
required a lot of land. Small amounts of the material had to
be housed in bunkers with enough distance between them
that one explosion wouldnt cause a chain reaction. Bethel
simply wasnt offering enough money to convince Dupont to
remove the dynamite and sell its valuable storage space.
After years of phone calls and refusals, prayer and
persistence, Dupont relented and agreed to sell the land
to Bethel, at one-fourth the price a development firm had
offered. In the words of Bethel historian Jim Spickelmier
63: A family named Kronholm was connected to Bethel
through the Baptist General Conference, and one of the
Kronholm brothers worked for Dupont. As I understand
it, President Lundquist talked to him and said, Thats

Bethel executive leadership gathered at the college campus groundbreaking. (L to r)

Carl Lundquist, Virgil Olson, Burton Wessman, Gordon Johnson, and Harvey DeVries.

Lundquist attributed Duponts change of heart to Gods

mighty work. In an article for The Baptist Pietist Clarion, he
wrote that divine work is never limited to human genius or
human resources or human organization. The big question
about any undertaking is not Can we do it? but Is God in it?
If He is, anything is possible.
Lundquist affectionately referred to Bethels campus
as Gods miracle on Lake Valentine. So it was, through
answered prayer, that the stories of Bethel and Lake
Valentine became inextricably linked.

Bethel University

23

In 1991, Kistler and a group of environmental studies students

participated in the Citizen Assisted Monitoring Program, a
project overseen by the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency
to track the health of Minnesota lakes. Around that same time,
Kistler worked with Professor of English Thomas Becknell,
Professor of Science Education Patti Paulson, and Bethels Office
of Development to raise money for the Russell W. Johnson
Nature Trail (see p. 16), which has helped raise awareness of
the lake by giving people access, says Kistler.
The clearest sign of Bethels increasing environmental
awareness was the decision to let cattails grow along Lake
Valentines shoreline. Kistler remembers a key conversation with
former President George Brushaber that led to the change. The
campus was having trouble with geese, he remembers, and
George wanted to know if there was anything he could do about
it. I told him that cattails would help by taking away the open
walkway from the water to the shore. As a bonus, that natural
buffer zone would make the lake a lot cleaner. He liked the
sound of that, and asked staff to back off on the mowing.
At the time, the changes happening at Bethel represented a
progressive approach to the stewardship of natural resources.
Bethel was at the cutting edge of thinking about some of these
issues, says Kistler. Environmental awareness didnt start
hitting Christian college campuses until the early 90s.

Lake Valentines shoreline after a snowfall, 2010

Breakthrough
It was in the late 90s that Kistlers hard work started paying
off. I was doing some research with students, using computers
to image the organisms in the lake, he explains. We noticed a
decline in some of the negative species, the blue-green algae. We
were seeing more of the green algae, which are typical of cleaner
waters. So we saw it at the lake microstructural level first, small
changes that normally nobody would pay attention to.
24

Summer 2012

A student enjoys a
stunning sunset from the
dock, 2007.

Over time, that cleaner water allowed sunlight to penetrate

deeper into the lake and gave native plants a chance to grow.
Water clarity went from one foot to six feet, says Kistler. The
lake is only 13 feet at its deepest point, and most of it isnt much
deeper than six feet, so light gets to the lakes bottom a lot of the
time. This gives larger plants, known as macrophytes, a chance
to grow, and forms a great habitat for fish.
Port sees these improvements as a true success story. We dont
get the huge algal blooms that we used to get during the summer,
or the subsequent fish kills as a result of oxygen deprivation.
There are cattails and grasses around the lake, so fertilizers dont
run directly into the water. We have a healthy population of
fish. And turtles, both snapping and painted. From an ecological
perspective, its a very healthy system.

A Lake Restored
Today Lake Valentine is the centerpiece of campus, the
backdrop to activities that spill from the nearby Lundquist
Community Life Center and the new Brushaber Commons,
which was constructed to take maximum advantage of the
stunning lakeside views. West-facing windows in Monson
Dining Center look out over the water so diners can enjoy the
scenery while they eat. A quiet path winds along the lake from
the commons to the seminary buildings, a visual expression of
the connected communities of the College of Arts & Sciences
and Bethel Seminary.
Sara Wyse, assistant professor of biological sciences,
considers the lake a great blessing, and says that we have a
serious responsibility to protect it. In the past, being a steward
of creation was equated with being a tree hugger. But the
distinction is vast, she asserts. You can love trees, but the point
is that you love God, and you love His creation. Out of Genesis,
our call is to take care of that creation. And we can take tangible
steps to do that right here on campus.
Lake Valentines story is a testament to the persistence of
community members willing to take those steps. Its restored
waters beckon onlookers to stop, look, and reflect on their
Creator. Romans 1:20 tells us that from the beginning of the
world, people could see what God is like through the things He
has made, says Wyse. In the lake we can see His calmness, His
majesty, His ability to create stunning beauty. Its a witness, and
its right at the entrance to campus. BU