Stewards

Yesterday, I travelled to Havre, Montana for work. I was there for a Fish, Wildlife & Parks Commission meeting where I was available to answer legal questions that generally come from outer space. It's a good time for me to practice thinking on my feet so I actually enjoy the opportunity. And when I can travel to a new place, it's an added bonus. Havre was one of those new and beautiful places.

Another added bonus yesterday was to be there for the presentation of an award that is called The Good Neighbor Award. The award is intended for a landowner who has lived a life as a good steward of the land; that is, treats it like the special place that it is - away from development - and enhances the habitat and unique character that Montana offers. Additionally the award recognizes a legacy of allowing public access for recreation and hunting without charging for that access or allowing outfitting on the property. It is essentially an award that recognizes the folks who, without provocation or compensation, protect our last best place.

When the 80-plus-year-old fella was presented with the award yesterday, he was asked if he wanted to say a word. He seemed surprised and caught off-guard. But once given the opportunity, he seized it and spoke for 10 minutes. In those 10 minutes, he told a story. He said, in his gravelly, gruff, hard-to-understand-old-man-muffly way,

When we got this award, it brought a memory. About 75 years ago, I wasn't very big or old. The hired hand took me fishing. When we got to the fishin' hole on our land, someone was already there. I had to impress our hired hand, so I marched right up to the fella and asked him how in tar-nation he got the permission to be there and told him he should just get on down the road. He left and we fished and I was pretty proud of myself.

Within a week, my father sat me down and taught me a good lesson that I've lived with my whole life. He said, 'What made you think you could tell that good man to leave the fishing hole?' When I tried to convince my father that it's our land and that we could tell him to get out. He told me, 'This isn't your land; it's ALL of our land. We are stewards of the land and that means that we get to share what this beautiful Earth gave us with others who want to enjoy it. Now you will go and write that man a letter and apologize.' That letter was one of the hardest I've ever
written. But I learned a valuable lesson that we've passed on to our
children: The Earth owns the land and we are here just to take care of it.

It warmed my heart to listen to this man tell the story of his life and how he treated the land, OUR land. And then it reminded me that this landowner is in danger of extinction and made me want to work harder and in earnest to continue saving the last best place.