Walking the Narrow Ridge With Bill Nickle
- storybyteskendall
- May 22
- 7 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
By: Victoria Cuellar
Multimedia
May 22, 2026
MIAMI – Before William “Bill” Nickle raised wolves in the Smoky Mountains or built the first solar-powered house in the state of Mississippi, he hid men from the Vietnam draft in the forests of Tennessee. He was working in the Methodist Church in Winston-Salem when a young man came to him with sweaty hands, a pounding heart, and a firm conviction: he did not want to stain his hands with blood. He asked Nickle to testify in front of the draft board as he petitioned to serve as a medic.
Men who were drafted sometimes applied for conscientious objector status or non-combat roles. Selective Service Boards, made up of local community volunteers, decided whether those claims were genuine. They often interviewed applicants and allowed pastors, teachers, or employers to “testify” on their behalf. At their “personal appearance,” the conversation did not go the way they had hoped.
“They would not allow me to speak,” Nickle recalled. “That was not right. I told him that I didn't want him to have to do something that he felt really strongly about.” In sight of finding his voice silenced, and the young man’s wishes being dismissed, Nickle came up with a proposal: “If he was willing, I knew a place where he could come and stay.”
The man ended up avoiding the draft, and altogether finding a safe haven in the place that would later be called Narrow Ridge. Surrounded by nature and a purpose to serve Earth over gunpowder, even before it had a name, the land was becoming a place of refuge.
Bill’s connection to Earth began on his grandfather’s farm. Often he picked wild blackberries, listening to the shuffle of eastern box turtles through the leaves. Growing up with Earth – as he is known to remove the definite article of “the,” since Earth is “not an object” – he felt the duty to preserve as much as he could of those landscapes that often permeated his childhood.
After graduating from Emory & Henry in 1961 and receiving his Master of Divinity degree from Duke University in 1964, Nickle carried those values further from his studies. Thus, in 1972, Nickle acquired 40 acres of land and founded a non-profit that followed the mission of “justice for all that makes up Earth,” creating sustainable alternatives to current social and cultural systems through education. He drafted the first charter inspired by Martin Buber’s image of a “narrow rocky ridge” between uncertainty and truth.
However, he found himself in financial strain and organizational problems for almost eight years that deterred him from his dream of living sustainably and in communion with Earth. In hopes of creating a greater impact but not yet giving up on his dream, Nickle went on to become a director in Camp Wesley Woods in the Smoky Mountains, still clinging onto the spirit of bringing the community together to advocate for Earth. During this period, he helped create the first church-sponsored environmental education program in the Southeast, and eventually met veterinarian Marcella Cranford, who brought wolves and owls to classrooms to educate younger generations. Whatever Nickle expected when directing Camp Wesley Woods, he never imagined he would end up raising four wolf pups at Cranford’s request. Many people would have been frightened at the possibility of being in front of a wolf, but Nickle wanted to destigmatize them, and make the world respect them in the same way he did.
“In this picture is Akeelah, the female wolf. She was the ringleader. I mean, even the bigger male wolves followed her and did what she wanted. They were beautiful animals” Nickle said.
He often saw their gray and white furred snouts poking out of his window. When Nickle took them out for walks, he talked to them like friends as the sunset made the woods golden in the distance. However, not many were kindred to Nickle’s appreciation for these animals he called his “little critters.”
“Cranford thought maybe we could reintroduce the wolves into the Great Smoky Mountains. So she kept one of them for her project, but was releasing others. But they were all killed. They never lived,” he said.
The father of the four wolves he fostered, Illich, had already received a similar fate as he was shot by Cranford's neighbor when he escaped one day. Moments like these reminded Nickle of the importance of finding protections for those who inhabit Earth, carrying Narrow Ridge in his mind like a mantra against reality. Later on in 1990, while attending a workshop in Lake Junaluska, North Carolina, he met Dr. McGregor Smith Jr., who eventually became known to him as “Mac.”
Smith introduced him to the concept of “Earth literacy,” inspired by Thomas Berry’s philosophy that humans are deeply interconnected with all life. Conversations about the workshop slowly led back to Narrow Ridge, his vision and his dream. Witnessing and connecting with Nickle’s enthusiasm for Earth, Smith invited him to come to Miami for a week.
“Although I didn’t know it at the time, he was a wealthy individual, and he had friends that had money. I got to really know him,” Nickle said. Smith decided to support Nickle's revitalization of Narrow Ridge, connecting him to people passionate about Earth literacy. One of them was Mike Wilburn, who bought and donated 140 acres of land towards Nickle’s cause.
When Smith saw the old resource center building in shambles, he rebuilt it into a library. He later joined friends and colleagues from across the country in what he called the Earth and Literacy Communion, a collaboration that eventually led to the founding of the Earth Ethics Institute at Miami Dade College. Smith also founded The Environmental Center at the Kendall Campus of the same institution. “It was a magical place,” Nickle shared. Years later, Smith’s impact echoes in every corner of Narrow Ridge. “I have an old solar panel just outside of my basement door with the words ‘Mac Smith’ written on the top of it,” Nickle said.
As Narrow Ridge continued to grow throughout the 1990s, Nickle and his collaborators transformed the mountainside into a sustainable community. They established wilderness preservation areas to protect the forests surrounding Hogskin Valley while experimenting with eco-construction methods that were uncommon in rural Tennessee at the time, including solar power, composting toilets, rainwater collection systems, and strawbale construction.
Narrow Ridge also operates as a community land trust. Nickle firmly believes that land should never be owned, so Narrow Ridge offers 99-year lease sites in lieu of land ownership. He wants to give everyone the opportunity to be immersed in nature and appreciate its beauty but also encourages the responsibility of living sustainably and in harmony with Earth.
“We welcome you to live here but there are certain restrictions. You can’t have any chemical waste, no cutting of all the forests. You can have gardens, orchids and so forth. There are really certain protections for the land, and if you are willing to sign off on the agreement for those protections, then you can sign off a lease here” Nickle said.
But for Nickle, Earth literacy extended beyond conservation or architecture. Through programs like the Vision Fast or partnerships with Miami Dade College and other colleges and high schools, participants spend days immersed in silence and wilderness. Narrow Ridge seeks to work with humanity’s relationship with Earth itself, encouraging people to discover the sacredness of the natural world.
“Bill invited me every year when he came down to Miami, and it took me seven years to commit to one of the best experiences of my life,” said Emily Sendin, a previous participant of the Vision Fast. “It was a transformative journey on the Mountain that is difficult to put into words. You have to live through it. Bill and Mitzi’s guidance allowed me to feel safe and free to be one with nature and myself and discover my path. The Mountain called me, and it has continued to call me ever since. I keep on coming back.”
Beyond the need for environmental stewardship, Nickle noticed more silent issues that affect society. The cost of a traditional burial typically ranges from $7,000 to $10,000 nationwide, making it a significant financial burden for families already coping with grief and economic hardship.
Nickle decided to tackle a more ambitious project and founded a natural burial preserve in Narrow Ridge. He did so to care for Earth but to also make dying sustainably accessible for everyone, regardless of how much credit card debt a person might have in their bank account. He believes in preserving the dignity of those who have died and the families who must carry that grief. He believes many ignore the fact that Earth also carries that responsibility.
“The Natural Burial Preserve falls into that same image [of land trusts], that same concept; we are trying to care for the natural land in a responsible way. In county cemeteries, there are bodies that have been embalmed, involving fluid that can eventually go down into the ground and contaminate our drinking water, the springs, and the creek where other animals are” Nickle explained. “The whole idea of trying to live and die in a responsible way is what the natural burial is about.”
Nickle is now 86 and has already chosen a successor to carry on his legacy, Mitzi Wood-Von Mizener, who currently serves as Narrow Ridge’s executive director. She came to Narrow Ridge in 2005 to attend the Vision Fast, and soon thereafter returned to never leave again.
“I fell in love with the land. I fell in love with the community, and I fell in love with the mission.” Wood-Von Mizener, licensed therapist, found her home and place in Narrow Ridge. “Even though we don’t do psychotherapy here, it feels really therapeutic. I have the opportunity to be a part of that process.”
Nickle still continues to impact lives today. The frightened young man who once came to Nickle asking for refuge could not have known that the forests hiding him from the Vietnam draft would one day become Narrow Ridge - a haven for those who seek to be connected to Earth. Decades later, Nickle’s work still returns to the same belief that guided him then: that every form of life deserves dignity, protection, and a safe place to thrive.
“Mitzi will be conducting sweetness tastings and taking surveys,” Nickle said. His child-like smile peeked through as he discussed a time after his death. “That’s where I will rest, underneath the persimmon tree, and it will bear the sweetest fruit.”
(Photographs by Victoria Cuellar)
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