Today we’d like to introduce you to Fleetwood Jacobs.
Hi Fleetwood, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
My story begins in 1977 on a hot summer’s day at Barton Springs in Austin’s Zilker Park. The air was humid, the water in the pool was stifling cold, and a drum circle infused the park with chaotic rhythm. Families, hippies, and topless women lounged on beach towels dotting the grassy hillside. As an 8-year-old, I fancied myself a swimming pool connoisseur—sure I’d swum in them all. But there was something different about this one. It was extreme, it was exciting, it was the most awesome place I had ever been.
What struck me back then remains true today. Austin is a kind of utopian community where diametrically opposed factions somehow peacefully co-exist. In the ’70s it was hippies, rednecks, college students, and musicians. Today, it’s tech professionals, environmentalists, college students, and musicians. There’s a beautiful tolerance here that just doesn’t exist in so many other places. Some people think it’s “weird,” but if you live here, you get it—though it’s hard to say exactly why. Maybe it’s the music that connects people, or the beauty of the Hill Country that peaces us out, or maybe there really is magic in the spring waters.
For me, it was the old trope: “I wasn’t born here, but I got here as fast as I could.” Our family hails from Fort Worth, where my ancestral grandfather was on the first City Council. My parents met at the University of Texas, and Austin has always been their happy place. We traveled often to the Hill Country to catch Willie and Waylon at Luckenbach’s World’s Fair or picked so many strawberries at the Poteet Strawberry Festival that they filled the motel bathtub and made it impossible to bathe. Every trip included a stop in Austin to play Peter Pan Golf and cool off in the Springs. Predictably, my sister and I both ended up at UT—drawn by the same magic.
After college, I wandered. I traveled Europe and the U.S., turning over every stone in search of purpose, until Austin called me home. When I moved back, I met my now-husband, Paul. We got married, had our daughter Nora, and along with my stepson Asher, built a wonderful little family—finally planting the roots I didn’t know I’d needed.
At that time, I was working at EarthShare of Texas when I met George Cofer, the visionary behind Hill Country Conservancy. George, I soon learned, was a legend in the conservation world. As I got to know his work, I was transfixed. HCC represented what I’ve always believed about Austin—that it thrives when opposites find common ground. The organization was born of a truce between environmentalists and real estate developers who’d long fought over whether to build on the 500 acres atop the Barton Springs segment of the Edwards Aquifer. In 1999, they sat down together in a series of “Peace Talks,” moderated by then-Mayor (and now again Mayor) Kirk Watson. What they realized was profound: their goals weren’t mutually exclusive. The very things that make people want to move here—natural beauty, access to the outdoors—are the same things that must be protected for our economy and quality of life to remain strong.
I began working at Hill Country Conservancy in 2018, and it was there that I found a true sense of purpose. For the first time, my professional work connected directly to the places that had shaped me. The swimming holes, the music festivals, the strawberry-stained motel tubs—suddenly, I wasn’t just remembering them. I was helping preserve them for future generations.
Over nearly seven years at HCC, I immersed myself in the unique ecology, geology, flora, and fauna of the region, and I raised funds to protect it all. Through that work, I came to understand that I was right about Barton Springs—it is, in fact, the most awesome place on Earth. Water from as far away as neighboring Hays County infiltrates the ground, recharges the aquifer, and bubbles back up at Barton Springs, filling a 3-acre pool that stays around 67 degrees year-round. Since time immemorial, it’s provided fresh water and cold relief from the Texas heat—for both people and wildlife.
It was probably more luck than science that Andrew Zilker bought up the land around the Springs and chose to donate it rather than develop it. But that single act made all the difference. A significant portion of Zilker Park sits atop the aquifer recharge zone, quietly doing the vital work of replenishing our magical spring waters. If that land had been paved, the life span of our beloved Springs could have been drastically shortened—especially now, as climate change brings longer, harsher droughts.
In 2021, fifteen organizations working in Zilker Park began meeting regularly to provide organized community input during the city’s vision planning process promoting the ecological health of Zilker Park while also ensuring that Zilker was sustainably accessible to our entire community. Through those conversations, we realized something important: there was no organization—City included—dedicated to caring for the “in-between” spaces of the park. And that’s no knock on the City. With nearly 300 parks to manage, they do a good job maintaining the places where people gather. But the wild spaces? They’re overrun with invasive species. The banks of Barton Creek are eroding. And the land is not absorbing water the way it should—putting our water reserves at risk.
And so, Zilker 351 was born in 2022—an organization with a mission to honor, preserve and enhance the natural, cultural, and recreational treasures of 351-acre Zilker Metropolitan Park for all. We focus on the ecological health of the park as a whole—removing invasives, restoring habitat, improving water infiltration, and ensuring that Zilker continues to support both human joy and environmental resilience. We will soon be launching a history project that will uncover and share the untold stories of exclusion and segregation in Zilker’s past. We are pairing this with a series of community listening sessions designed to identify present-day barriers — both social and physical — that prevent full access and enjoyment of the park. Andrew Zilker once said that “Zilker Park ought to belong to all the people of Austin.” At Zilker 351, that’s not just a guiding idea—it’s a promise we are working to fulfill, every single day.
When I became the organization’s first employee in January, 2025, it felt like the threads of my life had finally braided into one. My personal love for this place. My conservation experience. My belief that Austin’s strength lies in its balance of nature and people. Our entire community and beyond loves Zilker Park passionately, and I’m excited about the possibilities of bringing people together to ensure it is healthy and welcoming for all future generations to enjoy.
Zilker 351 is just getting started. But if there’s one thing Austin has taught me, it’s that a small group of people with vision, love, and a little bit of weirdness can change the world—or at least, preserve the most magical part of it.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Everybody loves Zilker Park — but not everyone agrees on how to love it. There’s been a lot of community in-fighting about the “right” way to protect the park, and because of that, anything proposed for Zilker has become a hot button issue. The result is that nothing gets done, while the park continues to suffer from sustained ecological damage and barriers to entry into the park, both historic and current still exist. We, at Zilker 351, want to change that narrative. We want to bring people together around shared values — protecting the park’s natural resources, honoring its history, and making sure it remains a welcoming place for everyone in the community to enjoy.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
I lead Zilker 351, a nonprofit dedicated to protecting the ecological health of Austin’s most iconic park while making sure it remains a safe, welcoming place for everyone. My background is in fundraising — but in nonprofit terms, that really means connecting people to their passion and giving them a way to make a difference. I like to say I specialize in connecting people to passion.
What sets me apart is my deep love for the Hill Country, Austin, and Zilker Park in particular. I’ve spent years raising money, building partnerships, and telling stories that help people see the value of conservation in their everyday lives. I’m most proud of the work I’ve done to protect this region for future generations — and now I’m incredibly excited to help build something from scratch: an organization that reflects Austin’s spirit of collaboration, creativity, and care for both people and the planet.
Before we let you go, we’ve got to ask if you have any advice for those who are just starting out?
My best advice is: don’t underestimate the value of starting small. It’s only because of the work I did early in my career — writing newsletters, managing social media, handling all the little details — that I’m able to do the work I do now. At the time, those tasks didn’t always feel high-level or important. But today, that intimate knowledge of how things actually get done is what helps me create realistic, holistic, and strategic plans to grow an organization. So don’t get frustrated. You’re not just doing busy work — you’re building the foundation for everything that comes next. You are doing important work.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.zilker351.org
- Instagram: https://www.facebook.com/zilker351/
- Facebook: https://www.instagram.com/zilker351/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/zilker-351
