VIEWPOINTS
Saturday, March 25, 2017
East Oregonian
Page 5A
Thank you Laura Ingalls Wilder
I used to dream of what it might be like
to be a mom of boys. And now that I am, it’s
funny how reality and dreams are usually
nothing close to the same.
My dreams didn’t include cow trucks
or burning tumbleweeds along fence lines.
They didn’t include
railroad tracks or cows or
even rising rivers. I didn’t
even know what muck
boots were, and I never
would have guessed that
I’d have a mud room full
of every size and color of
them known to man.
My dreams did
included farmland and
shade trees, but they also
had soccer games and
campouts. There were
riverbanks and wild
flowers and fishing poles.
There were trees to climb,
porches to sit on, forts to
build and pipe to change. They were dreams
made from the beautiful life I’d spent years
reading about each time I made a visit to
the library or book store or while watching
countless episodes of “Bonanza” and “Big
Valley.”
And now, twenty-plus years after reading
all those books and watching all of those
westerns, I see and know that I actually am
living a lot of those pieces of my dreams —
just not in the way I had ever imagined. Not
at all. And honestly, I think that was God’s
plan all along. Go figure.
I think all of the Christian historical
fiction/western romances I spent years
turning the pages of gave me a false sense
of reality. But then again,
maybe not.
Because here’s the
thing: The trilogies I
would read into the early
mornings had beautiful
families experiencing hard
times and difficult seasons
surrounded by celebrations
and love just like those
my family is truly living
right now. The part that’s
different though, is that
with each turn of the page,
I lived and survived those
seasons with them. I saw
what was on the other side
of the trials. I got to the
last page, wishing for more, but I knew how
it all turned out. There was no wondering or
guessing ... it had all happened. And I knew,
as the reader and watcher of their lives,
that they made it. I knew they were better
because of it. I knew that their stories were
complete.
Right now in 2017, I’m somewhere
between the beginning and the middle of
this “book” about us. The western romance/
I see and know
that I actually
am living a lot
of those pieces
of my dreams
— just not in the
way I had ever
imagined.
historical fiction piece that’s being lived
along the banks and hillsides above the
Umatilla River is being written even as I
write, and as much as I wish I knew what
was coming next, I’m thankful I don’t.
I’ve come to realize that life’s not
supposed to be like a dream — where things
turn out just the way you have had them
imagined or where problems are solved in
one chapter or by the end of the season. It’s
supposed to be real and full, and compiled of
days, weeks and even months worth writing
about, worth waking up for, worth fighting
for, and worth living for — even on the
longest and hardest of days.
Our days are numbered, just like our
cows and calves. They hold a purpose
worth sorting through. They’re meant to be
shuffled and mixed up. They’re meant to
push us out of “comfortable” and into a place
where we trust what’s guiding us and who’s
guiding us, even when the climb is a bit hard
and seems to be never-ending.
So when we get to that place at the end
where we wish more was coming, we realize
we’ve made it. We’re to that place we never
thought we’d get to, and we’re looking back
at where we just came from — whispering
to ourselves “That was a great ride. A really
great ride.”
So for now, I think I’ll keep dreaming,
but more than that, I’ll keep doing. I’ll keep
living each chapter of the life I’ve been given
well — because that’s what makes a story
L indsay M urdock
FROM SUN UP TO SUN DOWN
more than just a story. That’s what makes a
story a bestseller worth calling your own.
■
Lindsay Murdock lives in Echo and
teaches in the Hermiston School District.
May bond rescues fire station in dire trouble
By JACK REMILLARD
I have been associated with
Pendleton Fire and Ambulance
for more than 35 years, either as a
volunteer or employee, and I know
the struggles the current station has
had over the years.
Since beginning my career as
a volunteer in 1981, I began to
notice things around the station that
were in need of improving. Chief
Richard Hopper, with his limited
budget, did all he could to improve
the conditions at the station, which
at that time was only 21 years old.
Yes the roof leaked then, too.
When I began my career as
a paid firefighter in 1985, the
condition of the building was much
more evident. I recall the dorm
room during the winter was cold
enough to require extra electric
heaters to be placed strategically to
ward off winter’s chill. At one time
I placed a sign above the door that
read “Webb’s Cold Storage.”
In the mid 1990s a new kitchen
and public restroom was added.
These improvements helped
somewhat with living conditions,
but did little to improve the
overall condition of the station.
It lessened the workspace for
employees, and in my opinion,
separated the employees from one
another, causing the feeling of
“brotherhood” to fade somewhat.
There was little, if any, private
space.
Proper storage of sensitive
reports, fire inspection records,
fire investigation records, office
supplies, etc., has never been
adequate. The constant overload
of requirements just for patient
reports has now taken over at
least one of the bedrooms built for
sleeper accommodations.
The trucks and ambulances get
bigger, and the equipment used
on them gets bigger also. Much
of the equipment must be backed
up with additional stock due to its
Quick takes
— Alan Nichols
Let’s slowly drive rural U.S. back to the
Dust Bowl!
— Kelly Jo Farrell Hill
Oregon Senate votes to
raise smoking age to 21
Do let me get this right, you can vote and
you’re considered an adult, so if you get
into trouble you are an adult, and you can
fight for our country and die for our country
but you can’t smoke? Stupid law.
— Patrice Graham
Raise it to 100. It would do just about as
much good. Kids will smoke somehow.
— Virginia Adams Moffitt
Ah. Yes but smokers are declining and
so is the tax revenue. So it makes sense to
make it illegal for some so yeah, the fines,
tickets, court fees will make up for that.
— John Ware
They lost control of one thing (mari-
juana), just to spitefully attack another.
— Mackenzie Sheffield
One of the great lessons of the Twitter age is
that much can be summed up in just a few words.
Here are some of this week’s takes. Email edi-
tor@eastoregonian.com to submit yours.
Sunday. I recall a time when I was
performing the test on the 100-foot
ladder truck, when the nozzle,
weighing around 40 pounds, came
crashing down on to the engine
compartment of the truck. It was
extremely hazardous for someone
walking on the sidewalk. Luckily
no one was hurt.
The training room inside the
station will only accommodate
around 30 people, which makes
holding a regional training session
difficult. Specialized training is
usually held at another facility.
With everything firefighters are
tasked with; Fire, EMS, HAZMAT,
rescue, flood fight, etc., there will
never be enough training. For
me, this was always my biggest
concern.
Since I retired from Pendleton
Fire in 2004, times have changed
and I have little concept of the
needs of the electronic age, as it
was just beginning in earnest when
I left. Of course, I like “the good
‘ol days,” when firefighting and
EMS wasn’t as complicated as they
are now, but those days are not to
be held onto if we are to advance in
those endeavors.
Station 1 is in need of replacing.
It was built with good intentions
for the time, but that was 58 years
ago. As a fire marshal, I would
not allow many of the activities
currently taking place in the
station. And I have always felt the
city should be the poster child, not
the problem child.
Of course the choice is up to
you. Do you feel you are getting
the kind of response you would
expect from an emergency service?
Do you feel the firefighters and
paramedics are working in a safe
environment while at the station?
They are in harm’s way every time
they respond to an incident. Your
safety depends on their safety.
■
Jack Remillard is a retired
assistant fire chief and fire marshal.
Our poop-prone dogs and us
Essential Air subsidies in
Trump budget crosshairs
It’s simple: If enough people want to fly
from Pendleton to Portland they wouldn’t
need government money to make it happen.
This is what happens when the government
gives you everything. Our society has come
to expect it.
importance in providing for your
safety. A five-inch water supply
line, 100 feet long, takes up a lot of
space, and there are thousands of
feet of this hose in Station 1.
Training for firefighters is
essential. Firefighters die due
to lack of proper and scheduled
training. Station 1 has never, in
my opinion, had an adequate
training area. The drill tower was
built for just such training, but
quickly became a partial storage
area due to the lack of space. The
upper decks of the tower are used
for training, but since it is built of
wood, it can’t be utilized for live
fire training, which is paramount.
Safety of firefighters, and the
public, has always been a concern
of mine due to the fact the station
is located right next to the traveling
public, on three sides.
Court Street is directly in front
of Station 1, which causes concern
when the weekly apparatus
tests are performed, usually on
By LUCIA HADELLA
Writers on the Range
W
hen I’m 90, I’ll probably still be
haunted by memories of bins
overflowing with the remnants of
hiking snacks and thinly wrapped dog turds,
left to bake for a week in black plastic bags.
As a student employee at the McDonald
Research Forest, seven miles from Corvallis
and one of seven research
forests run by Oregon
State University, I was
sometimes given the task
of tugging such stinking
bags from receptacles and
heaving them into the bed
of a pickup truck.
This was not pleasant,
but I took solace in
knowing that people cared
enough to stick their trash in a designated
container. In 2015, however, when I was
involved in a public awareness campaign
about dog behavior, I found the whole issue
of dogs unleashed a lot of anger — some of
it mine.
The reason for the campaign: As the
number of visits to the McDonald Forest
increased from an estimated 7,500 visits
in 1980, to 105,000 when last surveyed in
2009, the number of dog-related incidents
and complaints has also risen. About half
of the visitors now bring dogs along on a
typical visit, and this amounts to quite a few
canines on the trails.
Dogs can scare horses and chase
mountain bikes. They are allowed off
leash on the forest as long as they respond
well to voice commands and don’t stray
from the owner’s sight. This, however, is
difficult to enforce. Sometimes dogs jump
on strangers, and even when the dog isn’t
covered in creek water, mud or poison oak,
nobody wants someone else’s dog to jump
on them. Dog fights with other dogs are
another concern, and if the animals stray
from the trails, which they often do, they
occasionally traipse through a research plot
and may distort someone’s data.
The real problem is that dogs poop, and
sometimes humans refuse
to pick it up. The poop
becomes an unsightly
addition to a well-loved
trail, and it can make
people and other dogs sick,
as well as mess with what’s
natural in a forest.
Dog feces is not a
“natural fertilizer.” As cute
as canines can be, they are
not native to our forest environments, so
nature lacks a seamless way of managing dog
waste, especially when it’s deposited onto a
trail in high quantities. Parvovirus, giardia and
roundworms are just a few of the organisms
you, your family and your pets probably don’t
want to encounter on a hike, yet dog feces can
carry such parasites and pathogens.
To gain a better sense of how much poop
I’m talking about, consider the number 98.
That is how many pounds of woof waste 25
volunteers and three staffers collected from
the forest’s Oak Creek area in the course of
just one Saturday. Altogether, they collected
231 pounds of poop from four locations on
the forest in a single day.
News of this “Tails on Trails” cleanup
campaign reached the Corvallis newspaper
and then spread across the country through
the Associated Press. The upshot? People
As cute as
canines can be,
they are not
native to our
forests.
from near and far wrote nasty notes to my
boss. One Oregon State University alumnus
said he would not be returning for a while
because of our anti-dog attitude. I probably
would have written back: “Woohoo! One
less person leaving a mess on the trails!” —
which is why I will never be able to do my
boss’ job.
As a natural resources graduate, I
can recite the pep talk professors of my
discipline share with their classes at least
once a term: “It will be your job to decide
what to do about the big environmental
issues of your lifetime — global climate
change, biodiversity loss, water scarcity,
catastrophic fires. …” Some professors
admit, “My generation and the one before it
screwed everything up. Sorry. Our bad. But
now Mother Nature is counting on you.”
A few even go so far as to insert a joke
warning us not to expect to get paid a lot for
saving the planet. Few students laugh.
It makes me angry that many dog owners
fail to clean up their basic environmental
messes, and then lash out when nudged to
do so. Granted, many people had nothing
but praise for the “Tails on Trails” campaign,
which included not only the poop purge and
educational signage, but also a community
dog celebration called “Poocha-Paw-Looza.”
Still, I found the negative outcry
disheartening, especially when it came from
Corvallis folk who pride themselves on being
nature lovers. If they’re unwilling to bend
down with a baggie and bundle up a few dog
turds, what hope is there that big problems
will get fixed in my lifetime — or ever?
■
Lucia Hadella is a first-year M.A. student
in environmental arts and humanities at
Oregon State University in Corvallis.