A powerful testimony about a legacy that’s lost
“You should run this as a letter to the editor.”
That was the first comment I got from a reader about a Facebook post by Dave Daley, a local cattle rancher whose family’s legacy goes back to 1852 in these parts.
As always, the first thing I did was check its length. It took about two seconds to figure out his story was a lot longer than 250 words, which meant it couldn’t run as a letter to the editor.
( Yes, I check every one. Let one 251-word letter slip into print, and pretty soon everybody’s demanding 251 words.)
That being said, any time I see a story that includes the words “cattle” and “family” in the first couple of sentences, this old ranch boy is hooked anyway. So I decided to read a bit to see what all the fuss was about.
And I mean, there was a fuss. My wife had already sent me his story. So did my in-laws. Eventually, so did a half- dozen strangers (via email) and even more strangers who thought tagging my name on various Facebook posts might lead to the newspaper doing something with this man’s story.
That sort of request happens fairly often. It almost never works because, usually, it leads to nothing but a one-sided ax somebody wants to grind.
It didn’t take long to figure out that wasn’t the case here.
I started reading. And reading. And reading some more. It seemed the story would never end and in a way, I was hoping it wouldn’t, because 10 inches into it I knew there was no way I was going to stop reading anyway.
I suspect you’re going to have the same experience.
On Pages A6-A7 today, we are running, in its entirety, what began as a Facebook post written by a well-respected local rancher, describing his experiences looking for his family’s herd of cattle lost in the Plumas National Forest during the North Complex fire.
I’m going to warn you right now — in places, this isn’t an easy read. The words “cattle” and “fire” should be your first clue.
But it is an absolutely vital read, and that’s why we decided — with his permission, and through a collaboration with our outstanding Oroville correspondent, Kyra Gottesman — to share it with you.
This isn’t the story of a man who’s blaming any one person, or any one thing, for what happened.
This is the story of an angry man, a heartbroken man, a family man and a lifelong steward of the land who is wondering how in the hell we ever got from there to here.
When he describes the way his ancestors would burn away the low growth on the forest floor if they were “the last man out” of the mountains in the fall, it brought back the words of my father, saying the same thing about his father and grandfather, who ran sheep in the Mendocino National Forest a hundred years ago (a forest that, like much of the Plumas, is basically destroyed because of fires today).
When he talks about the way politicians descend upon scenes of devastation, say a few well-groomed words backing their political cause, dust off the ashes and scurry back to their homeland … yes, he’s speaking for a lot of us.
When he talks about the way outside “experts” — people “who wouldn’t know a sugar pine from a fir” — have tied the hands of dedicated local public servants and done nothing but add to the problem, yeah, that’ll ring true as well.
(“You can learn more from old people,” he notes, and correctly.)
And finally — when he talks about his family, and its legacy in these mountains, and his gut-strong determination that regardless of what has happened to these forests and his cattle, he is NOT going to let it end here — well, I dare you to read that part and not come away thinking there just might be a glimmer of hope for this country yet.
Daley and his family put 1,200miles on their 4-wheelers searching for their lost herd of cattle in the first 12 days. It is an incredible journey and we are very thankful he’s allowed us to come along for the ride.
So what are you waiting for? Turn to A6 — or the proper webpage — and plan to stay a spell. You’ll be happy that you did — and I promise you’re not going to be one bit happy about what has happened.