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The INDEPENDENT, June 6, 2002
The
INDEPENDENT
Serving the upper Nehalem River valley. Published twice
monthly, on the first and third Thursdays of each month,
by Public Opinion Laboratory Ltd., 725 Bridge Street, Ver
nonia, OR 97064, as a free newspaper. Editors and Pub
lishers, Dirk & Noni Andersen. Phone/Fax: 503-429-
9410, e-mail: noni@vernonia.com
Opinion_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It’s time for elected
officials to get busy
Elected officials don’t have an easy role. No matter
what they do, someone is going to be unhappy. But
that is no reason for doing nothing.
A small example, though significant to many in the
county, is represented by the empty showcase below.
That is where the Indian arifacts were before they were
removed from the local museum.
There have now been two meetings with the Board
of Commissioners and nothing has happened. No one
f/rs S a y s .. .
By Dale Webb, member
Nehalem Valley Chapter Izaak Walton League
seems to know, with certainty, whether the artifacts on
display at Columbia Center in St. Helens were taken
from Vernonia, though that possibility has been circu
lating for nearly three weeks.
So far as The INDEPENDENT can ascertain, no
commissioner has asked that question of the people
who put the display in Columbia Center. Why not?
The only response from the board is that the county
counsel is researching the records to find out who is re
sponsible for what. That response is identical to the
one obtained about six weeks ago.
Incidentally, the BOC has approved a new hydraulic
excavator for the road department. The price? Over
$130,000
Asked what the jusification is for such a purchase,
The INDEPENDENT was told by Commissioner Bem-
hart, “The department head said he needed it.”
The Senior Council needs funds to help the elderly.
Which is more important?
Yes, you heard right: Ike Says has gone out
law. I received the first ticket of my life last month
and of course it would have to be a wildlife vio
lation. While I am somewhat embarrassed by
this event, I also understand that the odds are
that you will receive a ticket sometime in your
life. Here’s what happened: don’t let it happen to
you!
Donna, two friends and I were digging clams
on a slightly minus tide in the Gearheart area.
Since my partners were not experienced clam
diggers, I was helping them by pointing out
holes, how to dig, etc. I was finding a few clams
and was keeping track in my head. About 45
minutes later, I thought I had dug my 15 clams
and headed away from the surf to count them.
Donna and I knelt down to count our clams when
we heard a voice say “Hold it, I’m with the po
lice.” I felt a slight flush on my face since I won
dered if I had counted right. The state wildlife of
ficer knelt down next to us and I proceeded to
empty my clam bag onto the sand and then
slowly and deliberately counted out 15 clams. I
breathed a sigh of relief, only to be followed with
panic when the officer stated, ‘There is still one
clam in your bag.” I looked down and, to my dis
may, there was a clam partially hidden in the
folds of the bag. I removed the clam. Then the
officer counted the clams for himself, at a pace
that Donna and I were not able to keep up with.
The state bull declared that there were 17 clams.
Of course, my mind was roiling with the thought
I was going to get a ticket, which the officer con
firmed when I asked him. I knew better than to
argue or question his counting. I was guilty since
I had counted 16 clams, anyway. The officer
seized two of my most smashed clams and gave
me my ticket.
When I got home that night and emptied my
clams into the kitchen sink, I was not amused to
see that I only had 14 clams. This meant that the
state game officer had also miscounted my
clams. I am sure it was an honest mistake, but
then again so was mine. I also noticed that the
officer had written the wrong time on the ticket—
a whole hour earlier and I had not dug a single
clam by then. In my mind, while I could have
maybe gotten off on this technicality, it was not
ethical or worth taking up the court’s time with a
clam violation. Instead, this was a lesson in life
and I have used it to reinforce how I conduct my
self in the field.
Two weeks later, while digging clams with my
dad and Don Tiffney, we observed a lone person
approaching our location. Dad and I grinned at
each other in recognition of who this probably
was. Sure enough, the state trooper eased into
our small group of people, occasionally digging a
clam as he looked from beneath the wide-
brimmed hat of his disguise. I had already
counted my clams once and had 10. I counted
them three more times before I finally finished
my 15. Don was standing next to me when I
made my final count and he asked, “How many
do you have?” Looking straight at the game offi
cer I replied, “22.” The state trooper just turned
around and walked off, he knew he had been
had. I have to give him credit he is a go-getter.
So here are some pointers if you go clam dig-,
ging: First, do not trust your ability to keep track
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