The following are some memories from Steve. I love these stories - they're so typical of what we used to hear about dad's days at work.
It was some time in the late 60s when I went to work with dad and we ended up in Idaho City. As we were driving, we were flagged down near the gas station by a dirty old logger. His partner was in the back of his pickup; he had cut his leg wide open with a chain saw. In the 60s and 70s, there were not EMTs or ambulances in Idaho City, Garden Valley, or any of the small towns, so dad loaded the logger in his truck to transport him towards Boise. As we started toward town, dad got on his radio and called the main office, who called St. Lukes hospital, who sent an ambulance up highway 21 to meet us. The poor logger had 3 or 4 dirty t-shirts wrapped around his leg, holding them tight, and damn near bled to death, but thanks to dad, he survived.
It was a hell of a ride.
Dad used to walk into Sulpher Creek Ranch every year to try and catch salmon snaggers. It was a 4 mile hike just to get into the ranch. Fishermen (snaggers) would fly in, spend a weekend snagging fish, then fly back out. I often went with him on these trips to try to catch the snaggers. We would stop at the lodge and wait for fishermen to come in.
The cook at the lodge would always give us something to drink, then go outside to the clothes line and hang sheets, then come back in and visit with dad. For two years, and lots of trips in, dad never caught anyone snagging salmon. After the first two years, dad realized that every time he showed up, the cook would run out and hang sheets on the clothesline - a signal that the fisherman could see from half a mile away - that the Game Warden was there. The next year dad walked into Sulpher Creek and as usual, the cook went out to hang the sheets. Dad stopped him from doing so and just before dark, into the lodge came all the snaggers with their fish. Dad ended up writing 6 or 7 citations.