Parks and recreation systems have evolved in remarkable ways over the past two decades. No longer just playgrounds and ballfields, parks and open spaces have become recognized as essential green infrastructure with the potential to contribute to community resiliency and sustainability. To capitalize on this potential, the parks and recreation system planning process must evolve as well. In Parks and Recreation System Planning, David Barth provides a new, step-by-step approach to creating parks systems that generate greater economic, social, and environmental benefits. Barth first advocates that parks and recreation systems should no longer be regarded as isolated facilities, but as elements of an integrated public realm. Each space should be designed to generate multiple community benefits. Next, he presents a new approach for parks and recreation planning that is integrated into community-wide issues. Chapters outline each step—evaluating existing systems, implementing a carefully crafted plan, and more—necessary for creating a successful, adaptable system. Throughout the book, he describes initiatives that are creating more resilient, sustainable, and engaging parks and recreation facilities, drawing from his experience consulting in more than 100 communities across the U.S. Parks and Recreation System Planning meets the critical need to provide an up-to-date, comprehensive approach for planning parks and recreation systems across the country. This is essential reading for every parks and recreation professional, design professional, and public official who wants their community to thrive.

Chartered in 1855 as an agricultural college, Penn State was designated Pennsylvania's land-grant school soon after the passage of the Morrill Act in 1862. Through this federal legislation, the institution assumed a legal obligation to offer studies not only in agriculture but also in engineering and other utilitarian fields as well as liberal arts. By giving it land-grant status, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania made the privately chartered Penn State a public instrumentality and assumed a responsibility to assist it in carrying out its work. However, the notion that higher education should have practical value was a novel one in the mid-nineteenth century, and Penn State experienced several decades of drift and uncertainty before winning the confidence of Pennsylvania's citizens and their political leaders. The story of Penn State in the twentieth century is one of continuous expansion in its three-fold mission: instruction, research, and extension. Engineering, agriculture, mineral industries, and science were early strengths; during the Great Depression, liberal arts matured. Further curricular diversification occurred after the Second World War, and a medical school and teaching hospital were added in the 1960s. Penn State was among the earliest land-grant schools to inaugurate extension programs in agriculture, engineering, and home economics. Indeed, the success of extension education indirectly led to the founding of the first branch campuses in the 1930s, from which evolved the extensive Commonwealth Campus system. The history of Penn State encompasses more than academics. It is the personal story of such able leaders as presidents Evan Pugh, George Atherton, and Milton Eisenhower, who saw not the institution that was but the one that could be. It is the story of the confusing and often frustrating relationship between the University and the state government. As much as anything else, it is the story of students, with ample attention given to the social as well as scholastic side of student life. All of this is placed in the context of the history of land-grant education and Pennsylvania's overall educational development. This is an objective, analytical, and at times critical account of Penn State from the earliest days to the 1980s. With hundreds of illustrations and interesting vignettes, this book is a visually exciting and human-oriented history of a major state university.

The history and future of the unique partnership between the City of Columbia and the University of South Carolina State universities are more than just places of higher learning, more indeed than just campuses or buildings, and more than just students scurrying from class to class. They are a symbol of the future of the nation and a statement about the commitment the sponsoring state has made to its people. In turn each city or town that hosts, develops, and nurtures these institutions recognizes that it holds within the community one of the more precious jewels in a state's crown. So it is with the city of Columbia and the University of South Carolina. Richard F. Galehouse has been involved in the university's master planning work for more than twenty-five years, making him more than qualified to take a lapidary look not only at the present and unfolding plans for the university, but also at the historic path that has brought it to its current luster. Encompassing its earliest days as Columbia College in 1801 (almost two decades before Thomas Jefferson's University of Virginia); the devastating effects of the Civil War; the "crisis years" between 1861 and 1915, when the institution was closed twice and reorganized five times; and some bungled urban planning in the 1950s and 60s, Galehouse's candid examination details the growth of the university and speaks hopefully about its present and its future. The city of Columbia and the University of South Carolina are unique in how they were designed to grow together, yet cosmopolitan in how they grapple collectively with the challenges and difficulties of combining the city's needs with the university's to create a symbiotic but nevertheless holistic community. The plan for this meeting of minds and needs is the meat of this narrative. The original and iconic "Horseshoe grid" of the city is echoed in the "Innovista" master plan outlined here, which will create in the city a shining setting for the university, one of its own most highly prized treasures. A foreword is provided by Patrick L. Phillips, global chief executive officer of the Urban Land Institute (2009–2018) and an instructor at the Harvard Graduate School of Design Executive Education Program and at the Carey Business School at Johns Hopkins University.

When a storm separates Stumpy the squirrel from her newborn babies, her animal friends come to the rescue.

Transportation engineering and transportation planning are two sides of the same coin aiming at the design of an efficient infrastructure and service to meet the growing needs for accessibility and mobility. Many well-designed transport systems that meet these needs are based on a solid understanding of human behavior. Since transportation systems