Our Conservation and Outreach Programs

 Jackson Earth Restoration and Research Center

“Where Forests Rise for the Fallen, and Climate Finds Shelter”

In the high desert of Arizona, where the land is dry but not silent, a forest is rising, not from abundance, but from grief, intention, and knowledge. This is Jackson Earth Restoration and Research Center, a sanctuary where every tree is planted to honor a loved one who has passed, and every grove whispers the names of those lost to gun violence, and avoidable tragedy due to the lack of concern over the climate crisis.

Here, restoration is not just emotional, it’s ecological, symbolic, and scientific. Travis Dean, its steward, walks the evolving land with rigor. He doesn’t just plant trees; he designs ecosystems. Every grove is a response to climate collapse, and every root is placed with care, guided by research and engineering that respects the land’s integrity.

Jackson Earth Restoration and Research Center has become more than a place. It becomes a prototype:

• For how to reforest the desert without disrupting its soul.
• For how to use science as a servant of healing, not a master of control.
• For how to meet climate change not with despair, but with design and genuine effort.

Because humanity has a choice. We can make excuses, or we can make a difference. We cannot control the actions of others, but we hold an abundance of control over our own. And here, on this land, we choose to act. 

We choose to restore. We choose to work for the good of humanity and future generations.

And someday, when the canopy is thick and the stars rise over the Kiva, someone will walk those paths and feel the temperature drop, the air moisten, and the story deepen. They won’t just see trees. They’ll see lives remembered, futures protected, and a forest that refuses to forget.

You can now plant a legacy tree in honor of someone you love.
Whether it’s a cherished pet, a beloved friend, or a family member whose memory still stirs your heart, this is a way to let their story live on. Every life that touched ours deserves recognition, and every tree planted becomes a living tribute to love, loss, and the hope that follows.  Learn More

Why is this project so important?

In a word: humanity.

Not the kind etched in "policy" or polished into slogans, but the kind that trembles beneath the floodwaters, clings to rooftops, and vanishes in the silence after the storm, to be buried by those lucky enough to survive. 

For over two decades, I stood at the fault line between science and catastrophe, building hurricane models and working with LEO satellites that whispered truths most refused to hear. With each ground zero event, the whispers grew louder.

Then came the assessment, the one that changed everything. I traced data back to the 1800s, expecting noise. What I found was a pattern and a reckoning. The numbers didn’t just speak, they mourned. They named the species already gone. They mapped the habitats collapsing in real time. They forecast not just destruction but the disappearance of our essence. 

The data not only revealed the frequent catastrophes we track but also the fragile lives we fail to protect because of our complacency.  In that moment, something inside me fractured. The data didn’t just inform me; it broke me.

From that break, a new resolve emerged: not to predict the next ground-zero event, but to restore what remains. To fight for the fragile and suffering of many species. Welcome to my resistance.

This is not the time for debate.

Species are vanishing, some forever. Those who debate will try to lure you into their doubt and lack of understanding. Lip service and performance won’t rebuild coral reefs or bring back the last migratory songbird.

Rather than debate, we need hands in the soil, boots on the ground, and minds committed to restoration. Every moment spent debating denial is a moment stolen from genuine action and another species gone.