Anacortes, Washington’s March Point stands as a poignant testament to the relentless push of industrialization, a land whose story weaves through threads of displacement, resilience, and unyielding hope.
Before the mechanical behemoths of oil refineries cast their long shadows over March Point, this land was an integral part of the ancestral territories of the Lummi, Swinomish, and Puyallup peoples. Known to the Salish as Shais-quil, it was a land teeming with life and natural resources like camas and bracken fern, pivotal to the Salish diet and way of life.
The mid-1850s heralded a seismic shift with the Treaty of Point Elliott. Under dubious circumstances, this treaty ceded vast tracts of land, including March Point, to the U.S. Government. Promises of reserved rights for hunting, fishing, and gathering were made but the connection of the Coast Salish peoples to their ancestral lands was deeply disrupted.
The late 1950s saw the introduction of oil refineries to March Point, reshaping not just the landscape but the lives of its original stewards. The Tesoro Refinery explosion on April 2, 2010, marked one of the worst industrial accidents in Washington State’s history since the Industrial Safety and Health Act of 1973. This tragedy claimed seven lives, underscoring the often overlooked human cost of industrial progress.
Further complicating the narrative, in 2020, the Shell Puget Sound Refinery faced significant penalties for emissions violations, casting a pall on the community’s health and environmental integrity. This wasn’t a solitary incident, as history reveals a pattern of environmental transgressions.
Amidst these industrial upheavals, the Swinomish Tribe and others continue to dispute the U.S. government’s interpretation of the treaty. They assert their enduring claim over March Point, challenging the narrative that often sidelines indigenous voices in the discourse on land and rights.
Today, March Point stands as a symbol of modern industrial progress but also as a reminder of the ecological and cultural costs borne by its original custodians. The Tulalip and other tribes stand resilient, upholding their traditions and fighting for the recognition and protection of their treaty-reserved rights.
As we reflect on the legacy of March Point, it beckons us to remember the land’s true custodians and their continuing struggle for justice and restoration. It is a poignant reminder of the need for balance between progress and preservation, a challenge that echoes through time, urging us to envision a future where the land is returned to its rightful guardians, healed from the scars of industry.
In this ongoing story, may we witness a future where March Point blossoms once more, a beacon of hope and a testament to the resilience of its people and the land they hold dear.
