The Final Post, 30 Years... Day 30/30

It's been difficult to decide what to do for this last post. I don't want it to be sad as this was such a wonderful project to take on.

I hope it has given family and friends a better idea of who Bill Pogue was, both in his professional and family lives. I hope in some small way, these stories have made an impact on you. I hope, as well, it has helped you understand the dangers that Game Wardens face each and every day while making very little pay, and better understand WHY they would face such dangers and do it with dedication seen in very few professions. Game Wardens are a unique breed and I'm so proud and happy that our family has been a part of such a wonderful group of people.

Dad had so many sides to him that we will never forget. He was probably no better or no worse than most people on this huge planet, but he provided us with many, many wonderful memories...



I hope that now our children and grandchildren will understand and know in some small way, the wonderful man they should have had the chance to love.



Thank you all for being a part of this wonderful opportunity we had to remember the good times, laugh about the funny things, and most of all share dad's life.

Today, January 5th, we will get together with Cheri Elms, as we do every year to remember dad and Conley. We miss you dad, but thanks for the wonderful memories...

Thanks for the Memories... Day 29/30

Posted by Jacob Whittaker on his Facebook page...

‎"Idaho is what other states would like to be." -Artist, conservationalist and a dearly missed grandfather, Bill Pogue

A Nice Letter About Dad... Day 26/30

Dad left little bits of himself in many places through his cartoons, artwork and his presence. If you click on the letter you can actually read it.

The Hobbitt... Day 25/30

I appologize that I have done sometimes up to 3 or 4 posts a day over the last week and a half. But, I'm almost caught up to date! The following is a post from my sister Linda...


I always loved the funny cartoons dad drew and his more realistic drawings simply fascinated me. So, when I graduated from High School, what I really wanted for my graduation present was for him to draw one of the characters from my favorite book, “The Hobbit,” by JRR Tolkien.



I found the description in the early pages of the book. It described the Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, sitting outside his Hobbit Hole smoking ‘pipeweed’. I asked dad to read it, and then draw his interpretation. I didn’t know if it would be one of his cartoons, or one of his more realistic drawings. To my utter delight, it was a combination of the two. Dad had it professionally framed at a frame shop, and wrote this sweet note on the back of it for me.




I’ve always felt very fortunate to have an ‘original’ from dad, just for me. This is truly one of my most prized possessions.




Thank you, dad. You always made me feel special.

I love you and miss you so much.

Your daughter,

Lala

Doctoring Wildlife... Day 14/30

Today's post is written by my sister Linda. I have a wonderful picture of this fawn with our German Shepherd that I'll upload and share before the end of these 30 days.

Dad was always bringing home orphaned, wounded, or unwanted animals. When I was about 10 years old, he brought home an orphaned mule deer fawn. An older couple had been driving near Lowman and saw an eagle trying to pick up the fawn. They picked the baby up and brought it to us. He was only a few days old and was so young he could barely stand up. We fed him warm milk using a baby bottle. Our German Shepherd was very maternal, and took to the fawn like he was her own puppy.

The fawn grew quickly, and took to following me and my friends on our treks around the remote area where we lived. He followed us along little mountain trails and through creeks, and loved our adventures. He couldn’t stand the thought of missing out on some fun.

One day, he followed us to a neighbor’s house. The neighbor’s dog saw him and began barking and chasing him. The poor little deer turned and ran for his life, right through a barbed wire fence. The fence ripped a big gash in his front leg right at the armpit. (Do deer have armpits?)

When we got him back home, mom and dad doctored his wound the best they could. There was no keeping him off it, the little guy had no intention of taking this wound lying down! Because the barbwire was rusty, dad decided to give him a tetanus shot too. So I held the deer still, and stroked his neck while dad prepared the syringe.

As soon as dad sunk the needle in his butt, that deer went straight in the air like a rocket, and took off up the hill doing that bouncing-running (stotting) that deer do when they're afraid. As he bounced, that syringe bounced and bobbed right along with him, still stuck in his butt, the pain of it’s movement making him bounce and run even faster.

Dad squawked in disbelief (or disgust). I screamed and began to cry. Dad took off up the hill after the deer, running as fast as he could to try to catch him. Both were soon out of sight. Tactfully concealing her laughter at the humorous sight, mom began trying to comfort me, telling me that dad would find our family member.

Dad and the deer did eventually return home together. I have no idea how far the deer ran, or how long it took dad to catch up to him, but dad would have chased him to the next county if he’d needed to in order to bring my sweet deer home to me.

The deer’s wound healed fine and dad learned to hang on tight to the syringe the next time he had to give an animal a vaccine.

On the Injured List. Day 2/30...

I'm sorry, I know I should feel bad, but some of the memories of dad which are the absolute funniest to me are his injuries. Laughing at other's "accidents" is a very bad Pogue family trait. Mom doesn't do it though, she's got too much class so I'm blaming this bad gene on dad's side of the family.

I just don't get how one person can hurt himself so many times - and I mean lasting, physical, "damn-what-happened-to-you!" injuries. In order to really know dad and especially his poor driving habits and too-numerous-to-mention truck accidents, you must understand his history of "being on the injured list."

His first job out of college was in Las Vegas - and that's where his accidents began...

Brush with death #1 - While getting ready for a few days' stay in the desert, he got out his sleeping bag and a few other necessities including the air mattress he would use under his bag. Giving the air mattress a mighty shake (not sure if he was checking for spiders or trying to get the wrinkles out), the plug flew out of the hole, through air like a bullet, and hit him in the eye. Where most of us have color in our eyes, dad's eye was black. Really, how does a tiny plug from an air mattress, through all the airspace in our universe, find a person's eye? And to make matters worse, had he minded the doctors, he probably wouldn't have had permanent damage. He was told to stay in bed and not get up. He got up in the middle of the night and ran into the wall, bashing his head so hard that it was the straw that broke that camel's back and he was blinded for good. Then the pain was so bad that he took too many pains pills and mom had to rush him to the hospital for an overdose. I can't watch A Christmas Story and hear Ralphie's mom say "You'll put your eye out!" without thinking (fondly of course) about dad.

Brush with death #2. Dad had stopped to check an unattended vehicle parked out in the boonies. Waiting to see if the owners would come back to the vehicle, he started getting hungry and noticed he had a bag of grain in the back of his truck. He helped himself to some of the grain - but after eating a few mouths full, he noticed the word POISON on the bag. According to mom, he was a sick boy!

He also contracted "Valley Fever" while living in Bakersfield. He had heard of a place where people were discovering sharks teeth and sometime later, found out that the soil was infected with the disease. Someone in the family still has those sharks teeth - proudly displayed on cotton in a frame.

He was thrown off a horse, hitting his head on a rock and received a concussion. Another time, he was on his horse and one of them (we'll blame the horse) made the mistake of cutting too close to an old building and he ran head first into a swarm of bees. Not only was it painful but it caused a lifelong allergy to bees. That was Brush with death #3.

Brush with death #4 happened when dad realized that keeping canned food in a metal container, for months in the Vegas summer heat in the back of your patrol truck, is not a good idea. One bite from a "puffy" can of pineapple caused severe food poisoning and he nearly died. Again, who eats food from a can that practically explodes from all the toxins in it when you open it? All I can say is that he must have been darned hungry.

While living in Winnemucca, and again, out on patrol miles and miles away from help, dad drove over a rattlesnake. Wanting to bring the rattles home to show us kids, he stopped to pick it up. He raked his hand across the snakes teeth and that was all it took. He had to drive himself several hours back to town for treatment. After receiving the treatment at the tiny hospital in Battle Mountain, he broke out in hives and then had to stay overnight in the hospital. That was Brush with death #5.

After the loss of vision in one eye, depth perception was hampered so there were too many pickup accidents to mention. His patrol vehicle always had numerous dents and dings from sideswiping or backing into something.

In all reality, only a few of these were actual brushes with death. But dad was always out of radio contact and miles and miles from the nearest help. He truly was lucky to have survived as long as he did. While talking to mom about this post, I said, "He was just an accident waiting to happen, wasn't he mom."

Her reply, "Every day. Every day. I never knew what kind of shape he'd come home in." Fortunately, his major injuries seemed to end when we moved to Garden Valley...

30 Years, 30 Days, 30 Memories. Day 1...

Many women keep journals. My mom keeps a journal and has for years. I know it's full of her memories, her dreams - her history. My blog is my journal.

On January 5th, 2011 - thirty days from now, it will be the 30th anniversary of dad's death. So, for the next 30 days, I'm going to share some stories that involve my dad that I want my kids and grandkids to know and remember. It's sad when I think that in all reality, my kids know very little about their grandfather. They don't really know his sense of humor, the real danger of his job, yet his deep love for it, his quirks and oddities, and his injuries - I look back on his life and wonder how he survived as long as he did. I'll talk about his premonition of his death, his artwork, his favorite places and other stories that I think are important. With some help from my mom, I hope I can do this justice and that mom and my sisters will jump in here along the way to add their comments and memories.

Mom and dad and the early years...

Mom moved to California from Boise after attending college. That March, she was set up on a blind date with a handsome Marine. His buddy Marines were so surprised and happy that he actually had a date that they all loaned him clothes - slacks, dress shirt, corduroy jacket, shoes, and socks. The ONLY thing he wore that night that actually belonged to him were his undershorts. After they were married, mom asked him where all his nice clothes were and he had to fess up that they had all been borrowed.

Dad on the far left - was he skipping?????



Two and a half months after meeting, they were married. Surely it wouldn't last! That August, just 3 months after they married, dad was sent to Camp Pendleton to train for the Korean War. Just before leaving for the war by ship, he decided he needed to see mom one last time. The Marines, not taking kindly to the AWOL, demoted him to Private once he was back on board. However, I don't think it was something he ever regretted doing.

Several years ago, I was going through some of dad's things and found the letter he had written to my mom's parents requesting their permission to marry mom. It was so cute. I'm so grateful that I have these letters and things tucked away and hope that someday one of my kids will be the "keeper" of this important family history.

After dad returned from Korea, he went to college at Humboldt State University. Their life was tough. Not the kind of tough for young married kids these days - I mean tough. They lived in a tiny village in a tiny, moldy house. They often had very little to eat and no money to do anything. I think the only thing that got them through so much of their early years was the fact that most every other couple in the village was in the same boat. They all had each other.

At one point during dad's college years, they lived in a tent on the northern California coast while he was doing research on fish. My brother Steve had been born and raising a new baby while living in a tent was very difficult. They ate mostly what dad could catch because it was free, and to this day, mom won't eat salmon or crab.

Once dad got a job as a Game Warden they spent much of their lives moving as many Game Wardens do. His first job was in Las Vegas then Winnemucca, Garden Valley, and finally Boise. I know mom hated Winnemucca. Dust and wind, sagebrush and scorpions. But dad loved the desert. Up to the day he died, the desert was one of his favorite places.

In 1964, dad received word that he had been accepted as a Game Warden in Garden Valley. I know mom was excited to be leaving the contanstly blowing wind to live in a small beautiful town with pine trees and water. It was such a change from the years of dust that they couldn't wait to get there. However, they would have to wait another year before they would leave Winnemucca.

There were some internal problems at the Winnemucca Police Department and the City Council asked dad if he would consider taking the job of Chief of Police to help them through. Dad agreed to take the job under the condition that he would be leaving in a year. He took on this new role with determination and was an HONEST Police Chief which made some of the town councilmen, a few police officers, attorneys, and some others, very unhappy. Evidently, some of the officers were getting "Christmas bonuses" from some of the local Madams at the Ho Houses to not interrupt things (especially during the winter when a lot of the locals were using their services). I guess doing away with the "Christmas bonuses" didn't make dad real popular, but, according to mom, "I was so proud of the job he'd done when we left!"

I'm sure that was the year from hell for mom. She was on the verge of moving back to Idaho where her family lived and yet it was going to have to wait...

28 Years Ago...

"If there is a future for wild things, then it is the burden of those who have reached farther than me, to save them for the rest of us. It will be done by those whose convictions were forged in campfires,

Bill"

Dad wrote this on the picture above which he gave to his good friend Jerry Thiessen a few years before he died. I've often wondered what it really means. It's so profound and I just wonder what dad was thinking when he wrote it. Maybe someday it will come to me. Maybe I'm trying to hard to decipher it.

I know dad had some premonitions. As it turned out, I think dad had a much bigger impact on the wildlife and our nation's natural resources than he ever dreamed he would.

Tomorrow we will get together as we always do on January 5th and remember dad and Conley. We'll take a minute to give them both a toast. I know he'll be there with us.

You were a great Game Warden...

Idaho Game Warden Magazine

For many years, I was the Editor of the Idaho Conservation Officers Association Newsletter. Now, they've moved on to bigger, and much better things! They now publish the Idaho Game Warden Magazine and it's a wonderful publication. If you're at all interested in Idaho, the outdoors, what it's REALLY like to be a Game Warden, or some of the best insider tips for hunting, fishing, and wildlife viewing, get a subscription! It's only $10 a year and the money goes to the Idaho Conservation Officers' Association - a GREAT cause!

Even if you don't hunt or fish, you'll find the first-hand stories of Game Wardens to be fascinating. They work hard, miss holidays/birthdays/anniversaries with their families, face people every day who are armed, but they also have jobs that most of us would love to have. Oh, and the pictures are awesome!

I got on their website and got my subsciption this morning. I may even let Elmer read it. If you're interested in subscribing to this great magazine, here's the link. Enjoy!

http://www.idahogamewardenmagazine.com/

I miss you terribly...

I had a Board Meeting for the Idaho Peace Officers' Memorial this morning. It usually makes me a little sad, I guess I think a little more about dad on those days then normal.

I'm getting ready to send a card to the wife of an officer who was recently murdered in the line of duty and didn't know her first name. I did a google search and found this website which I had totally forgotten about. The link is below.

I miss you dad...

http://www.odmp.org/officer.php?oid=10727