In zesty raids near Chicago last fall, an environmental guerrilla dubbed "the Fox" enraged polluters and entranced citizens by stopping up factory chimneys, plugging sewers and sloshing corporate offices with smelly river muck (TIME, Oct. 5). Still uncaught, the Fox recently gained an equally anonymous ally: "The Billboard Bandit," a single-minded commando devoted to beautifying the roadside near Monroe, Mich.
In two weeks the Bandit's roaring chain saw sliced foot-thick support poles and toppled 35 offensive billboards along U.S. Highway 23. Where motorists once skimmed stirring legends like "Stuckey's Famous Pecans—2 Miles Ahead," they now have only trees and farmland to...