Day 104: Mount Rainier National Park, Sunrise Community Kitchen, circa 1933. The young woman in the foreground is my mother, the babe-in-arms my uncle-Gus-the-Lake-James-Ranger. It was Gus who set me on the course of my life when I was but nine years old, having obtained permission from his superintendent for me to stay with him in his duty station for ten days. My father had died in the spring, and Gus (ever my idol) was doing his part to help me adjust. In those ten days, I determined two things: that I wanted to climb the Mountain and that I wanted to grow up to work in the Park. My first stint at Carbon River as a volunteer preceded my first successful ascent by a year or two, but I went on to summit five more times (a total of six), and my readers know to look for me at Longmire today.
Aside from having a Park Service bloodline, I feel a strong bond with the broader NPS "family," and I know many of them are likewise moved by a sense of kinship, as well as being united in a common cause. When one of us is attacked or oppressed, it affects us all. Recent events have shown how we will rise to meet the occasion, "rogue rangers" defending our own in their private time. There aren't many organizations which generate that depth of community connection. Parkies together!
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