last month the lives of my great
rantkhildrrn
were taken from them, as
s?
y were about to be born IK - were
nested, cradled in the arms of a imxxl
young hemlock named Pinul l e Kapong
(flower of exquisite beauty). She
provided warmth, protection, and much,
much more to my granddaughter's
family to be. This fncntl was yet to
realize the nnmc of her life, wnen she
was taken down with many of her
relations, with neither her permission,
ex acknowledgement of her universal
life force.
I come to you as a humble
representative of the Bird Tnhe Nation.
Once again we have been uprooted from
our homes, by means of your relentless
chain saws and machinery. We, until
most recently, shared our nesting area
with many of our relations of the animal
nation The plant nation and the Stone
people provided our family, ami our
many relations, with fine nomes ami
ftx x lo f plenty. Much of this was due to
brave ytxing trees, who were just
beginning their tourney toward the
primes of their lives Theirs was a
generation just beginning to recover
from their parents and grandparents
genocide a few short dec arles ago.
They were virtually all massacred,
leaving with my ancestors, their history
to [iass on the their unlxirn children.
Included in the lessons of their ancestral
tribe were how we worker! together with
man to create harmony in <xir universe.
Humares were gifted caretakers, ami
were all united in their hearts ami minds
with this creation we all served ami
enjoyed Within the spirit of this
harmonious coexistence, we gladly
provided our caretaker relations with all
they needed for existence ami
enjoyment. We all made lx*autiful
music together ami we were all very,
very happy.
One day some different men
appeared. These men were deaf ami
blind to our world. Try as we did, we
could not seem to connect with them.
Before long, they were everywhere,
wreaking havoc with the very existence
of our being. Without a means to
communicate we were all left helpless
Those humans, who were our caretakers
as well as our connection with the
creator, started to die off rapidly until
only a few were left. I "hey t<x> were
helpless ami in shock. So those- who
managed to survive called on the creator
for a great council with all the nations.
The creator told of medicines found in
the plant nation, which would restore
man's deficiencies in perception, ami
make our universe whole once again.
We were told where they were to be
found so they could be disbursed by the
Bird Tribe ami the rest of the animal
nations. Wc retrieved these seeds ami
six,res, ami distributed them throughout
tne planet, so that the plants ami fungi
would be available for the humans with
vision to treat those who were deaf ami
blind, so they may once again be
healthy caretakers. This is a slow
process, however, because many
humares fear these medicines, ami the
changes in perception which occurs.
For many, it is as though much of their
purpose for existence ami entire social
structure is being invalidated. So these
medicines are condemned ami even
outlawed. Progress is being made,
however, especially in many young
humans, who are just coming into their
ime. For they are not nearly so
earful ami set in their ways, fhey
seem to sec how those who aren't
perceiving are suffering needlessly, and
are only doing more damage to
7
themselves ami the universe.
We are Itxiking forward to the
day wc are once again united with our
caretaker relations, for wc love ami
miss you oh so much.
F".
Old Crow
Any interference with nature is damnable Not only
nature but also the people will suffer
Anahario (wife of Grey Owl)
In 1904, Bridget Snow wont on holiday with
her family to the North Oregon Coast. She
has a very fond recollection of this first visit
to the place that is now her home, and has
been since the 1950s. Bears, cougars,
deer, elk, grouse and an endless sea of
teaming green vegetation lined the journey.
At that time, such a venture was a lengthy
and arduous one. It twisted on wound
through true wilderness, through "real-
forest and through a place that in her
lifetime would be transformed into
something entirely different. She never
imagines! during her first visit that such a
place could be so altered in such short
order, but it was. and she watched it
transpire. The plant expression of these
then "real" forests, the huge trees, was the
most marked feature she recalls. W e have
all seen the photographs of the giant
spruce, cedar and hemlock trees from the
tmxj when they smothered the landscape as
far east as you coukl possibly see, and west
right to the edge of our world. But Bridget’s
recollection is first hand.
Now, Clatsop County, a microcosm of the
Pacific Northwest, has alnxist none of its
forest legacy. W e ’ve let it all go. Bridget,
like many of us, is appalled at this, and
concerned about the legacy she will leave
for her great grandchildren. Because the
mining cycle of our surrounding tree farms
has been determined by "experts" in "forest
management" to be 4 0 to 5 0 years, we
have not concerned ourselves with our own
battered but beloved hills since the 194Os
and 1950s. Now, tfie gravel roads to the
east are being cleared, sprayed and
otherwise readied for the next great exodus
of trees, and I fear tfie worst. I imagine the
vision of its transformation from green to
brown, from mystic to void and from life to
death,
Bridget conveyed her experience with this
scenario in Arch Cape in tfie 1950s. From
her window she watched. She recalled,
“Where I lived I loved the tall beautiful
forest— and I saw day by day, it all go
down, it made me so very sad". On one of
the clear deep pools of Arch Cape Creek,
tier grandchildren opened "The Arch Cape
Yacht Club", a floating cedar dock used for
swimming and other youthful activities. As
tfie waters of the creek muddied with the
blood of tfie hills, so did tfie vision to tfie
oast, and so too did much of Bridget's
fondness for the place which 5 0 years prior
she had first viewed with awe. Today,
nearly 9 0 years after her first visit, she will
apparently watch the cycle repeat itself.
Cavenham Industries owns most of the
forest around us. A vast amount of our
public lands, such as our forests, became
private as railroad companies were given
land as an incentive to build rail routes.
Railroad companies became forest product
companies. Then, through our
government's lack of foresight and tfie
greed and shortsightedness of our nation's
economy and propensity to consume, we
have shaped our forests into what they are
today. Even though Oregon is unique
because its beaches are public domain, it
has preserved almost nothing of its coastal
forest, a place that was gone before there
was even a chance to understand it.
Because these fulls are privately owned,
they are not governed by the same
regulations, however feeble they may be.
which prohibit most types of clear cutting in
state and federal forests. Cavenham has
repeatedly avoided questions about their
plans for tfie eastern fulls. These forest
lands, along with the coastal and ocean
environment, are the basis for our
livelihoods. People visit this area for its
geographic uniqueness and beauty. We
really must find an option to what
Cavenham inevitably has planned for our
surroundings. However, even simple dialog
has not been easy. My friend Knox
Swanson recently called Cavenham to
inquire about riding mountain bikes on their
roads. Getting answers was like pulling
teeth and finally after being told that the
roads were open only to rifle hunters, Knox
was abruptly disconnected. These are not
good neighbors.
must realize that they have a great deal to
lose with tfie browning of our fulls. Our
local community is not "supported by timber
dollars", there is rxit enough timber left to
support any more than a handful of us. Wo
have diversified into a truly renewable
tourist based economy. Tourism has its
drawbacks, as we all know, but it is
certainly more palatable for exist of us than
other industries. Somewhere within our
great composition of local individuals and
businesses is the wherewithal to find
alternatives to Cavenham Industries' plan
which will fragment and destroy our
scenery, water quality, spirit and way of life
digging east of Cannon Beach.
My recent conversation with Bridget Snow
included a message about solutions,
compromise and working together. "Its
never too late to do something" she stated
surely, “I am evidence of that". Through
her years of watching, she knows full well
that doing nothing will bring nothing. "It is
easy to become discouraged", she admits,
"but don’t let that stop you from doing the
right thing". And yet, I am discouraged
when I enter Cannon Beach from the North
and kxik at Radar Road, the formally small
hand of older forest which bordered Cannon
Beech, Ecola State Park and Highway 101.
I recall riding my bike through tfie place,
hearing grouse in the same location almost
every time, seeing elk and deer, a clear
stream, but always leaving with the dark
thought that it would not persevere. Now it
is all gone. Bridget lias encouraged us to
rearrange our rage toward constructive
ends. I'm sure Bridget is correct, it is never
too late.
For many years Bridget wrote “jingles" in
the sand each morning near her home in
Arch Cape. Many of these poems were
inspired by the natural beauty that
surrounded her. After my visit with her, she
recalled a jingle she had once written about
her fulls, but could not find it in the
hundreds sfie had cataloged. Later, she
sent it to me with a note... "Ron, on the
hills are a few remaining memories of the
monarches of our forests fo remind us of
their past glory. They inspired me to write
this as a jingle or poem and write it on the
sands of Arch Cape for all to see".
I turn my back
To the sea.
I look to the Hills
In the East.
So verdant.
So green,
These Monarches of the West.
Their beauty overpowers me.
Long have
They stood
These guardians of our shore.
H ow long will they remain?
I wish to thank Bridget for her insight, which
spans and links the century, and for her
warm friendship.
Ron Logan
«»• •.
e a r t h t id e
a r w l o o N n o r y «>«<*>•
iM trtMBl f M o ö u r t a t o r
»««U n««« « tu l lia ta r K «
fierbabst / molfy stromhoft / ow ner
Aesthetic qualities do not hold much weight
in today's world. Aesthetic issues take a
back seat to governmental agendas, jobs
and commodities. Our local governments,
chambers of commerce and private citizens
Bruce Johnslon
(
Controctoi
CCB 1 71672
O
201 Spruce
Geortvxt. Otogon
W ITH
(503) 73O M 2I
urrtK un
edge jult