Recently we had a tragedy in our neighborhood. A young boy was struck by a car driven by an under age driver on a local street. As you might guess the family of the young boy that was killed has been devastated.  The family of the under age driver have also been devastated by all this.  A most remarkable outcome appears to have happened.  A meeting was planned to bring together the two families less than a week from the date of the accident.

The family who lost their son embraced the young man who was driving the car.  They told him that they held no ill feelings toward the young man.  They did not want this event to ruin his life.  They understood it was an accident and that he had no intention of making this happen.

In our present world this seems to me to be quite remarkable.  The family is not seeking lawyers to sue, they are not pressing for law enforcement to put away the young man for an extended period, they are not seeking some form of financial gain from the situtation, they are not pursuing vindictive actions of revenge, and they are not engaging in behaviors that aim to hurt the driver’s family.

It seems to me to be an example of love and compassion from which we all could learn.  I for one am hoping whatever it is that causes this form of behavior can be spread as easily as a computer virus. We should all be surrounded by such neighbors.  tomq

Some time ago, when my granddaughter was 5 years old, I was busy copying some home videos onto DVDs.  We had a small television sitting on our kitchen counter hooked up to the various machines to make transfers work.  It was a rather tedious process of putting in the video tape and allow it to play through as the transfer occurred.  I had the television there to check on progress and make the appropriate trades of tapes and DVDs in a timely way.  One sequence on the video caught my attention and I stopped by the counter to watch the wedding reception of a niece.  My granddaughter came into the room and stood by me to watch the interactions going on at the wedding reception.  There was the usual, smiles and handwaves to the camera, people complaining about being caught on video, and family members telling stories.  After about 10 minutes of watching, my granddaughter said, “Grandpa are those all the human beings you know?”  I was so taken by surprise I stuttered a little as I answered.  It made me think about just how many human beings do I know.

Tomq

Principle - Your personal integrity takes a lifetime to build and only a few minutes to loose.  Many people will judge you entirely on your integrity.

Living in a small farming and ranching community was not easy for a forest ranger in the 1960s. Tremendous pressure was being placed on the Forest Service to reduce grazing on public lands. Of course, every animal that was removed from public land reduced the potential wealth and income of a local rancher. Quig was well aware of the implications. He was also keenly aware of the responsibility of the Forest Service to act as a wise steward of the public land.

Quig wrestled with the mandate from above to reduce grazing, searching for the most fair way to implement change. Studies and analyses preceded unpopular decisions. In each instance Quig would take personal responsibility to meet with those affected, explaining the outcome of studies and proposing an implementation process that Quig would personally administer. Even as kids of the ranger we often got chastised for reductions that were painful. Through these very difficult and stressful times we were often left to sit alone at church or given unwelcome stares. Quig never wavered in his resolve to implement the reductions he felt had been demonstrated as needed, but in a caring way.

Quig’s patience was tried but never broken. On one occasion his supervisor was asked to testify in court about a proposed grazing reduction. Through a series of phone calls, letters, and personal meetings, Quig was assured that his supervisor was supportive of the proposed grazing cuts. In the courtroom the antithesis of integrity was on display by Quig’s supervisor. When asked if he supported Quig’s actions he responded that he had no idea why Quig was proposing the reductions. This was quite possibly the greatest test that Quig faced in his employment with the Forest Service. Never had he been on the receiving end of such a blatant display of dishonesty. With the court case lost and Quig’s authority damaged, he had to decide whether to remain as ranger or look to move on.

The painful weeks that followed seem to awaken a new resolve in Quig. He determined to focus on those decisions that he could ensure would be implemented. He did not back away from difficult decisions but he weighed the potential outcomes and worked even harder with permittees to get common understanding on change and outcomes.

We were taught that a handshake and a verbal commitment should be as strong as a notarized contract. If we say we will do something, the expectation was there that we wouild follow through. This was an expectation that need not be articulated for every deicison. I think this is why the kitchen table was a place where disappointment was expressed, parent to child. My children recall often times that the white board, rather than the kitchen table, was the place to discuss commitments and let downs. Our oldest son, Damion, sent us a card not long ago that highlighted the phrase “I think it’s time for the white board.” Even after 30+ years those messages apparently still ring for him.

Just as Quig learned that not everyone will operate with integrity, I too had to learn this lesson. In a highly visible, politically charged setting, I learned this. In the ICBEMP there was a small group that held strategy sessions regarding next steps and pending processes. I learned that what most see as lies, some politicians view as merely a necessary piece of communication to achieve an end.

In the ICBEMP I believed that we could put the internal plans together through internal meetings. I became clear that internal communications made their way to congressional staffers in Washington DC. The result was specific language in proposed legislation aimed at thwarting progress on the project. I confronted the person I thought was responsible for breach of trust, essentially saying that there was no way Congress could have gotten the information if it hadn’t been supplied him/her. I had anticipated that the person would admit to sharing the confidential information and offer an explanation of why it was the right thing to do. I was surprised when he/she adamantly denied sharing inside information and put on quite a seen that I would challenge his/her integrity.

To make a long story short, the individual did confess later that he/she had been sharing the inside discussions with congressional staffers. It took me some significant time to get used to working in such an environment. I came to realize that, at least some define integrity by the ability to achieve outcomes with no apparent regard for the means required to achieve it. I have come to call this “political integrity”. I suspect some will take offense to this label, but I seemed to witness it most often in the political setting. Individuals who practice this have the belief that they are operating with integrity. They will lie, stretch the truth, and work behind other’s backs to achieve their desired outcome. They will argue with veracity, that they are acting with integrity.

My personal values have been rooted in a definition of integrity that excludes “political integrity.” As a Program Manager, Assistant Station Director, and Station Director, I made it clear that I would not lie. If someone asked me a question that I felt was inappropriate to answer, I would respond with something approaching, “I know the answer to that question but this is not the time to answer it.” Another colleague of mine, Tom Harbour is fond of saying, “I know more than I can reveal.” These approaches do not create an atmosphere of secrecy or put forward a lie.

I had been on the receiving end of boss’s lies so often that I refused to lie.

It became a strength because my colleagues and employees knew that my words could be trusted. In any executive position you will, necessarily, need to develop strategies that have the possibility to close facilities, reduce staff, shift priorities, or move resources. It is also natural to expect employees, pundits, media, and detractors to seek information about future plans. There are appropriate times and methods to reveal this information. My commitment to telling the truth required a response to direct questions. My answer sometimes began with “I know the answer to your question and will respond to it directly when the time is right.”

Let me contrast that with the approach of the research station I worked at for many years. We were actively engaged in a collaborate program called the Oregon Range Evaluation Project. To successfully complete this project required funding commitments from all three branches of the Forest Service. Over a period of 5 years, the National Forest System and State and Private Forestry had faithfully included their share of the funding within the President’s outyear budget. Just as consistently, the Research and Development budget had not included funding for the project. Each year during the budget cycle, local political forces had to mount considerable effort to get the R&D funding included in the appropriation. Those of us working in the EVAL project from the R&D side were consistently told that the Washington Office failed to include the funding for the project.

I began to believe that this story was not true. Jack Ward Thomas, my boss, a large man, and I made an appointment with Station leadership to pursue this issue. The Deputy Station Director and Assistant Station Director met with us. We were in a small conference room with a small conference table. I pursued hard to understand who it was that was pushing to have the EVAL R&D budget excluded from the President’s Budget. These two station leaders continued to stick to their story – the WO did it.

I had witnessed enough to believe that it was rare that the WO would take such an action if not first proposed and supported by the Station. I stood, leaned forward with my hands on the table and said “I think you are lying to us!” Jack put his hand through the back of my belt to keep me from going further toward the Deputy and Assistant Director. It was interesting to watch as both men stood up and stepped backwards a step. Then both said, practically in unison, “We recommended it to the WO, so I suppose we have been lying.” For five years these leaders had lied to us about the budget. At this point Jack pulled me backwards into my seat and he stood up. He was now the one leaning on the table with a glare that could kill toward our leaders.

In an instant, these leaders lost credibility with me and Jack. I witnessed many instances of lies being shared under all manner of excuses. It wasn’t until sometime later that I came to use the term “political intergrity” to explain how these leaders could sleep at night. I am quite confident that it was this incident of repeated lies that led Jack, once he became Chief of the Forest Service, to create a mantra from which he never strayed. - one of his main themes while Chief was to “Tell the truth.”

The trust that took years of working with individuals can be eroded in an instant. It took us along time before we felt we could trust these two leaders again. Even then, we would check out their stories with others to validate we were not being sold down a path of lies again.

I have witnessed so many times when leaders have failed to tell the truth. My son shared with me how a business owner in private industry failed to understand this principle. Rumors were spreading quickly that the business was for sale. The owner called a meeting of all employees and boldly announced that the business was not for sale. Rumors settled down some, but speculation continued that negotiations were underway with a potential buyer. In fact, it was less than a week before the business owner called another employee meeting, this time to introduce the new owner. Believing he was starting out on strong footing, the new owner announced that there would be no layoffs – beginning yet another round of lies. In his case, the speculation is that he used this lie in an effort to retain the best employees – knowing all along that he would reduce the overall workforce. I still use the term “political integrity” to cover the private industry leaders who exercise almost any means to achieve an outcome. These individuals mistakenly believe that others do not or will not recognize the lies as lies.

Don’t say “I don’t know” unless you really don’t know. That does not mean you have to reveal all you know in response to every question. I would routinely admit that I knew the answer to questions that I did know the answer to, and then state whether this was the appropriate time and place to let the information be known. I have worked with people who would simply make up an answer that would get them off the hook. Each time I witnessed this, my colleagues would lose a notch or two of my respect.

Executives don’t have to lie. I have worked for and with Tom Mills for several years. He was a long-time senior executive with the Forest Service. He worked in many different capacities of leadership. While he had a reputation for being tough to work for, it was because he demanded so much of his top employees. He dealt with many difficult situations and tough decisions. But though it all, I never knew him to lie. He had my respect and retained it even into retirement. He operated in the same regard as Quig when it came to personal integrity.

I have tried to live the principle of personal integrity – in my personal and professional life. My wife has developed a rather cynical view of politics – in all its forms. This includes the politics within the private industry, government, and elected offices. To her, the ends do not justify the means. If it can’t be done honestly, then it simply is not worth doing to her. I have grown to appreciate her stance more and more.

Bottom Line – When all is said and done, all we really have is our credibility. Our credibility is highly dependent on our personal integrity.

Principle – Humor can relieve the pressure of a tense moment, lift one from a depressing thought, and improve the atmosphere of a dreary room.

It was nearly impossible as a young man to grow up in a small farming community in Utah without being a hunter of some sort.  It was nearly a right of passage to own a 22 rifle at age 12.  The desert jack rabbits would increase in numbers to the point that hay fields and rangeland forage were threatened.  For a period, populations were so heavy that rewards were offered for jack rabbit removal.  As teens we took great pride in our marksmanship abilities.  We could shoot a rabbit on a dead run as it darted in and out of sagebrush.

One day while my friend waited upstairs with Audrey, I went downstairs to the gun closet to get my 22 rifle.  I thought I had a great joke to play on them.  I lit a small firecracker that went off with a definite bang, and then I let out a loud moan.  I stood at the base of the stairs with a broad grin on my face as I waited to see and hear the reaction.  It came almost instantly.  Both Audrey and Mike let out an “Oh No!” and appeared at the top of the stairs in flight to my rescue.  It took far longer than I had imagined it would before they cold laugh and smile at my joke.  I learned that not all practical jokes are practical and a joke.

There were three boys in our family.  Lewis was just a year older than me, and Jim was two and half years younger.  We had shared an upstairs bedroom for several years with three single beds lining the walls of the “L” shaped room.  Mostly we got along fine, occasionally we bickered, and occasionally we plotted jocks to try out.  One hot summer day things were particularly quite around the Quigley household.  To liven things up a bit we hatched a scheme.  We took Jim into the upstairs bathroom and soaked his head with water from the sink.  Jim then started downstairs whooping it up a bit and yelling out “Momma, Momma.”  Audrey met Jim in the front room as she quickly came from the kitchen.  Jim, a pretty good actor, said, “Lewis and Tommy put my head in the toilet and think it’s funny.”

As you can imagine, Audrey did not think it was funny.  Lewis and Tom were summoned to the kitchen table for a discussion.  I suppose it is because Jim was such a good actor that it took us a while to convince Audrey that it was a joke and did not happen as Jim first described it.

Quig had a sense of humor that was very subtle and quick.  He was quick to respond with a twist that was usually not expected.  One day we were waiting in the doctor’s office because one of us was ill.  The doctor’s assistant entered and said, “Do you want to follow me?”  In classic Quig style the response was immediate, “It depends on where you are going. We came here to see the doctor.”  He also had a memory that was uncanny. I’m not certain just where he picked up these rhymes, perhaps at the CCC camps he worked at after high school, but he could recite a poem or an Irish rhyme for many occasions.  Some came as a tune he would sing and others as a poem or limerick.  These invariably would break up a tense moment or lighten an otherwise dreary room.

Quig had a few sayings that get stuck in my head occasionally.  If someone would ask him if he wanted some dessert or other food dish, his reply often times would be, “No thanks, I wouldn’t care for some, I just had any.”  Or at the dinner table the words were often said, “Take all you want, even if it takes darn near all of it.”  If something we were doing was going to take a long time to get done, he would say, “That will take a month of Sundays.”  If he arrived at a picnic a little late you would likely hear him say, “I came here to eat, and I ain’t leav’n til I et.”  When a family member would be raising their voice to another, you could hear Quig start to sing, “Let us oft speak kind words to each other, at home or where ‘er we may be.”  These sayings had a way of bringing a smile to our face, no matter the setting or reason for discomfort.

I had an opportunity recently to read many of the letters that were sent to Quig at his retirement by colleagues.  There were three themes that were repeated often:  1- Quig’s sense of humor, 2- his patience with all the trials that came his way, and 3) his commitment to those things he believed in including his care of natural resources.

I learned of the value of humor from many sources, family was just one.

Tom Mills was a serious kind of senior executive.  We used to joke that if we were to see his garage and shop that every tool and bin would be labeled and in its proper place.  I used to signal to fellow team members in the ICBEMP about how difficult Mills perceived the pending meeting by how many toothpicks he would line up next to his notebook.  The meeting progressed he would move through the toothpicks from right to left.  It turned out to be a good gauge for the difficulty of the meeting – it is a one toothpick meeting or a five toothpick meeting?

Mills’ office was always in order.  Everything had a place and everything was in its place.  When our Station Leadership Team was meeting around the conference table in his office, we would take turns with a little game.  Whenever Mills would leave his office for a brief period, one of us would move 2 or 3 of his pens and pencils about 15 or 20 degrees – never too much – that would be too obvious.  Mills was the boss, so he liked to lead most meetings.  He was a also a pacer.  He would traverse from one side of the room to the other as he would talk.  We also feared that if he had to stop moving he would explode and we would reap the unpleasant rewards of body parts all over.  As he would move near his desk, in an almost unconscience way, he would reach down and straighten the pencils and pens.  The challenge was to see hhow long it would take him to discover the misaligned writing instruments.  That little diversion provided just enough of a break from the pressure of new assignments to help us cope.

There are some people who seem gifted with the ability to contribute humor to a setting.  Our oldest son, Damion, is one of these people.  You simply cannot have an extended conversation with him without at least one story that brings laughter.  As an extended family, we all plan on laughing until our sides hurt when Damion is around.  If you ever get a chance to meet Damion, ask him to tell you one of his hunting stories.  I can tell the same story and get smiles, while Damion tells the stories and gets side splitting laughs.

Does every family have one member who can entertain the crowd for hours?  Jarold, Kerry’s father, was always ready with a joke and a story.  Do you remember those laughing heads you could hang on the wall at a party?  Any motion near the thing and it would let out a continuous belly roll laugh.  Jarold had to have one of those.  He would move it around the house to see who he could catch unware.  He practices relentlessly until he could mimic the laughter of the laughing head.  There is little doubt that Jarold got more laughs from the giggling head than from any other instrument purchased to cheer up the family.

There are storytellers that can make humore work in virtually any setting.  I suppose those of us who are prone to storytelling keep trying to mimic the Jarold’s and Damion’s of the world.  Occasionally, we succeed and maybe even get a little better at it.

Jarold and Peggy, Kerry’s mother and father, were members of a group of four or five young married couples who help parties at each other’s homes.  The routines consisted of card games, storytelling, and desserts.  Jarold and his brother Junior had been teasing each other for weeks about what the dessert would look like and consist of when they held the next party at a friends home.  This friend owned a dairy but was noted for not having it cleaned very good.  On more than one occasion they witnessed green stuff in the dairy barn milk.  The joke was that when dessert would arrive that night it would have green whipped cream on the top.  True to form, dessert arrived with green whipped cream on the top.  Junior made a quick retreat to the bathroom trying hard to control his gagging reflex.  Any gathering from that point forward for the family could bring out a sick look on Junior’s face with the introduction of green whipped cream.  It helped provide the closing event for many a family gathering.

I suppose humor is one of those things that requires cultivation and a good dose of common sense.  It can be easy to create a laugh from someone’s misfortune.  It is also easy to misplace decency with the crude and crass.  While I still hold that humor is a key ingredient in what matters most in life, I also believe it is essential to avoid having a laugh at someone else’s expense.  Cultivate a healthy laugh, a kind of smile, and a sense of awareness to keep humor within appropriate bounds.

My younger brother, Jim travels more than me.  I thought I was about maxed out at 50-75% of my time in travel status, but Jim exceeds even that.  As the worldwide CEO of Deloitte, Touche, Tomatsu, Jim is latterly traveling the world.  Recently Jim demonstrated that he retains his sense of humor.  He was t the airport in Germany, and with just enough time available, he entered the hair place to get a hair cut.  Jim was ushered into the ranks of the crowd with the extended shiny forehead a little before me.  Jim told us he has a formula that works great – at least most of the time.  The story is short, but it works.  “Cut the side with a number 3 and the top with a number 5.”  Jim does not speak German, so with a finger pointing to the side of his head just above the ear he said “three” and moving his finger to the top of his head he said “five.”  The hair specialist nodded as Jim assumed she understood the universal haircut language.  She understood okay, but instead of three meaning three eights of an inch and five meaning five eights of an inch, she knew Jim wanted three millimeters on the side and five millimeters on the top.  So Jim arrived at Utah State University to give the commencement address with shorter hair than planned.  Jim was able to share his story with students, faculty, and family alike.  Remember don’t take yourself too seriously.

Kerry enjoys her Nissan Murano a lot.  She likes the body style, the feel, the drive and even the fuel economy compared with some comparable cars.  As we were driving recently to a meeting in Boise, Idaho, we were passed by a woman driving a Lexus.  She seemed to have a difficult time deciding just how fast to drive. I suppose she was distracted and failed to set her cruise control – while we have never driven a Lexus, we can only assume it has one.  This particular Lexus model looks a bit like Kerry’s Nissan Murano or is it that the Murano looks a bit like the Lexus?  After the woman had passed us the third time, Kerry said, “Come on turn on your cruise control.  I sure like the looks of my rear end more than hers.”  All I could do was laugh and say, “Okay.”  Kerry’s response was “Whatever I can do to brighten your day.”  We have the vinyl letters in our rear window that reads “StoriesThatLift.com”.  I told Kerry that I’m thinking of changing it to read “I sure like the looks of my rear end better than yours.”

In the early days of the ICBEMP we had a rather tense moment that I thought needed some humor.  I had worked personally for Jack Ward Thomas for some 25 years before he was named Chief of the Forest Service.  He was named Chief just after I was named to lead the ICBEMP science efforts and a colleague, Jeff Blackwood, was named to lead the management side of the effort.  Within the pecking order of the Forest Service, the Regional Foresters are considered king of the roost for their region.  The ICBEMP covered portions of several regions and was destined to be controversial.  Jack would call me late at night at the office, because he knew I would be working still, and give me directions on what he wanted me to do the next day.  This was not unusual for the relationship between us was quite close.  There was something that had changed but neither Jack nor I had adjusted to it yet.  Jack was the Chief – I was several steps down the ladder from that position and several steps down the ladder from a Regional Forester.  That night Jack instructed me on what to say to two long-standing Regional Foresters – Grey Reynolds and Dave Jolley.  The next day Jeff Blackwood and I met with the two regional foresters in a conference room with a rather large table in it.  As we discussed the ICBEMP and how it might affect their regions, I began to explain what Jack, their boss and the Chief, wanted from them.  This did not last long at all when Grey Reynolds pushed his chair back and slammed his fist on the table.  He declared in a loud voice, “Just who do you think you are?  Who is in charge here anyway?”  With that he retreated to the back of the room.  Then in similar fashion, Dave Jolley pushed his chair back, slapped an open hand on the table and said, “That’s right just who do you think you are?”  He then retreated to the back of the room to join Grey.  With that I tapped Jeff on the leg and said, “Hey buddy, the balls in your court.”  It helped break up a tense moment.  To finish the story, I refused to do Jack’s personal bidding after that. I told him he was going to get me killed and I was not ready to die for him just yet.

I have witnessed humor used really well to break the tension.  I have seen humor unite people around a common story.  I have seen humor lift people from a spiral that leads to nowhere good.  I have also seen humor destroy relationships and create bad feelings.  This particular principle of what really matters in life requires common sense and recognition of what is appropriate.  Anyone who lacks common sense or is a poor judge of what is appropriate will find humor gets them in more trouble than it helps.

Bottom Line – It is important to not take ourselves too seriously.  Humor has the ability to calm troubled nerves, unit a group, and lift the spirits of friends and family.

Principle – By doing your best, others will recognize and reward your efforts.

Music was motivation in its purest form to Quig.  He had a real love affair with great music.  As a college student he would sing at a downtown restaurant for his supper.  He was also keenly aware that he would not be afforded this privilege if his singing were not quality.  He had every intention of doing his best at singing.  To this end he took voice lessons seriously.  He had little money to devote to such efforts, none-the-less, Quig made room for lessons.  His lessons, practice, and dedication paid dividends to Quig throughout his life.  He performed in operas at college, community productions, and as a member of the world famous Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Even in his later years, Quig was a faithful choir member and chorus member for community productions.  Everyone knew he did his best.  I recall Quig commenting that he sure couldn’t sing like he used to, but he would quickly add, “I do the best I can.”

This is one of those principles that came toward us kids in many, not so subtle disguises.  “I can’t is a slugger too lazy to try.”  “Any job worth doing is worth doing well.”  “We really don’t care what job you take, but do the best you can at it.”  “If you chose to be a tuba player, be the best you can be.”

These messages sank in deeply to me.  On graduation with my Bachelor’s Degree from Utah State University, the faculty at the College of Natural Resources voted me to receive the “Son of Paul Award” – as the outstanding senior.  Dean Thad Box in the award ceremony said, “The College will certainly be better off now that Tom is graduating.”  After the laughter died down a bit, he said, “That did not come out the way I meant it.  What I mean is Tom worked consistently to make the college a better place.  It was clear that he did his best to make the college a better place for everyone involved.”

This simple example is just one of many that demonstrate lessons taught and lessons learned among family members.  The key point is that words coupled with example can result in children understanding the principle of doing your best.

Quig cared about natural resources, no one could deny that.  Today many scientists are eager to point to the lack of frequent fire on the ground as a reason for larger and more severe fires today.  Quig was one of those in the Forest Service who caught the vision early.  Scipio, Utah sits in a beautify valley called Round Valley.  One late summer day lightning had ignited a fire in a juniper and sagebrush stand on the west end of Round Valley.  It was one of those rare days when a fire scientist says the conditions are perfect for a burn of the intensity that will yield favorable outcomes.  Humidity, wind, topography, and fuels came together to push the fire slowly across the landscape to the north away from residences and structures.  Quig found a vantage point that was also perfect to observe the fire as it did its magic.  It was burning in a mosaic pattern that would result in diversity, new forage for livestock and wildlife, and a reduced threat of future fire that might be heading toward town next time rather than away from town.  Quig radioed in that he was at the fire scene and all was well, no additional resources were needed.  After a couple of hours, Quig heard the drone of a distant airplane.  The plane was at a low altitude with the familiar painting of a Forest Service air tanker.  Sure enough the tanker let go his load directly at the heading fire, dashing Quig’s hopes of a larger benefit from the fire and perfect conditions.  Quig quickly got on the radio and was informed that because they had not heard from him for an hour, they assumed he wanted air tankers deployed.  Quig’s disappointment was shared with me many times through the years as he witnessed the scare of a fire force actions to contain even when conditions were perfect for allowing fire to play its beneficial role on the environment.  I suppose this demonstrates that there are times when we do our best, but the most favorable outcome might not result.

Many, maybe even most, school teachers amaze me by their dedication to do their best.  Audrey taught grade school for many years.  To get a concept or principle understood, she would spend hours at night often enlisting her children to create object lessons, displays, and handouts.  Each day and week created a new need.  In her effort to do her best, she would launch another venture to create new materials.  Her example seemed to stick with my sister, Roberta. Roberta, a kindergarten teacher, spends hours away from school preparing for classes.  Most of my colleagues in their professional lives spend far less time away from their appointed duty assignments working to achieve their professional goals.

Kerry has always had a spot in her heart for the medical career fields. She worked as a medical assistant for years and performed almost all functions in doctor’s offices.  I suppose it was that connection that resulted her being approached by our neighbor to see if she would take on the billing services for two anesthesiologists in La Grande.  Kerry decided to take it on.  This was at a time when desktop PCs were nearly non-existent.  The billing system consisted of a tray of cards with new entries entered by hand and photocopying was the means to send out the patient billings each month.  After several months of following this routine, I decided it would make her services more productive if we automated the billing process.  I purchased a computer that, at the time, was considered quite advanced.  The Intertec Data Systems Superbrain was a single unit with two floppy disks, a CPM operating system, and an integrated keyboard and CRT.  I purchased a relatively fast Texas Instruments dot matrix printer – the type that uses notched paper fed from beneath with form feeds.  I found what was supposed to be “state-of-the-art” software for doing accounts receivable.  It was written in CBASIC with the code provided if we needed to adapt it to work in the medical practice.  I did not know any programming languages but was convinced I could help Kerry meet her needs with this new setup.

Kerry spent the better part of two months getting all the accounts entered.  I tested the system with small runs of statements to validate it was ready to go.  The appointed day came to print the statements and get them out by Monday.  Friday morning Kerry called me at work to say the statements would not print.  I took the afternoon off to assist Kerry.  As luck would have it the software had a glitch of some kind. Calls to the software company were not returned.  I was on my own.  I started reading about CBASIC and printed out the routine that printed statements.  I worked for 36 hours straight before I was able to get the full suite of statements printed.  In that process I rewrote the look-up function that was used to find a patient’s record, link it with the records in the accounts receivable database, format the information, and print it on the forms.  In my regular job I had a computer programmer who worked for me doing database functions.  I showed him the code I had written and to my surprise he told me I had written the second fastest algorithm for a look-up function of that type.  It also happened to work flawlessly.  I always felt vindicated by that 36 hour sprint as a demonstration that I did my best.

I was not a great athlete in high school.  But in school with less than 300 students, I had plenty of opportunities to play sports.  My older brother, Lewis, was certainly more talented in sports than me.  I recall him setting up a makeshift moving target to practice throwing the football.  This rope, pulley, electric motor, tarp, and rag system ran many hours in our backyard as Lewis honed his timing, steps, and passes at the moving target.  I watched all this play out as Lewis was implementing “do your best.”  I also saw the direct connection as he was named to the All State Football Team.

At my first official track meet, I was to run the leg of a medley relay.  As my teammate yelled “go”, I took off like a shot.  When I turned to reach for the baton, my teammate and I failed to connect.  The baton fell to the ground as the other runners sped by; I reached down, picked up the baton, and made my way off the track.  Lewis ran over to me and said, “You never quit in the middle of a race. Even last place can make a difference in team standing.  It’s about more than you.  Come on do your best, that’s all we ask.”  Another lesson taught and learned.  I never quit midstream in anything after that, no matter how tough the situation.

As a scientist working for the Forest Service I had witnessed many riparian areas that were overgrazed.  The typical rationale that would be offered related to sacrificing some areas so that the cattle would graze further away from the riparian areas.  More and more fence was constructed to keep cattle away from the riparian areas.  It looked to me like the stream systems of the northwest were going to have a ribbon of fence along each side if an alternative were not introduced.  With this motivation, I came up with the idea that it might be possible to design an eartag for the cattle that would have a radio receiver in it that was sensitive to a remote transmitter in the riparian areas.  If the cow grazed too close to the radio transmitter in the riparian area, it would trigger a sequence of actions designed to get the cow to turn around and exit the riparian area.  This sequence would be a buzz, or sound, followed by an electrical stimulus if the animal persisted in the riparian area.  This way I envisioned that we could place remote transmitters in riparian areas and effectively exclude livestock without having to construct a fence.  I explained my grand plan to Jack Ward Thomas, my supervisor, who informed me, “That is such a great idea, give me six months and it will be my idea.”  I took that as a motivator to take action before the six months were up.  It took many long hours and much hard work, but doing my best paid off with the issuance of a patent for electronic livestock control.  A company has licensed the technology but has yet to bring the product fully to market.  I still think I did my best.

Bottom Line:  Sometimes the seemingly impossible really is impossible, but by always doing your best, you can accomplish what others might think is impossible.  You will receive recognition and rewards in return.

Principle – Displays of patience build trust and welcomes kindness.

I was a wannabe fisherman.  What is a reasonable number of times that a father should bait the hook of a little boy that whips the hook out of the water too soon and too fast?  The answer to that question seemed to be any number of times is okay, at least to Quig.  He loved fishing; but he had great patience to help others learn to fish even if that meant that he did no fishing.

Kanosh canyon is home to Corn Creek, a small stream that rushes from mountain heights to the desert floor.  For reasons science cannot fully explain, this small stream is a productive fishery.  As kids we always loved to fish up the canyon.  This stream was in dramatic contrast to the Weber and Provo rivers where Quig would spend hours fly fishing and casting in big pools full of crystal clear water.  The small ripples, pools, and bends in Corn Creek, in many ways, presented an ideal fishery for young kids.  Grasshoppers, crickets, rock-rollers, and worms were ideal bait.  Quig loved to fish these waters and show great patience as he would wait out many a hole.  But another style of patience also reared its head whenever Quig had children or grandchildren with him.  He rarely found time to bait his own hook as he patiently baited the hooks for others.

This example was repeated time and time again in virtually every activity involving Quig.  As a volunteer at the genealogy library, Quig found time when no one was there to work on his own genealogy.  But whenever a patron entered he would drop his own work to help them find the sources they were seeking.  Some days that meant making no progress on his lines.  He seemed to have a special kind of patience to repeat the same instructions over and over again with not even a hint of impatience.  I always thought that Quig would have made a great teacher – one who does not get bothered by the same question over and over again.

In contrast to this, I started teaching microeconomics at Indiana University at Kokomo, partly because I was bored being the Chief Weather Forecaster at Grissom Air Force Base.  I was excited when I first arrived on base and began a new assignment.  But as the weeks turned into months, I found myself thinking that there needs to be more to my life than reading weather charts, briefing pilots, issuing forecasts, and tracking severe weather.  For me the challenge faded after I learned the ropes and became proficient as a forecaster.  I decided to try my hand at substitute teaching at the local high school.  My first day of substituting was quite an eye opener.  I developed high levels of respect for teachers who can teach at that level and not lose their patience.  I was to issue a test to the first period class.  I could not get them to stop looking at each others papers and wandering up and down the isles comparing answers.  Then I was to be the monitor in the boys’ rest room for the second period.  This job consisted of standing in the rest room where the doors had been removed from all the stalls so the monitor could tell whether the student was smoking, doing drugs, or doing the task relegated to that particular room.  The day went down hill from there.

I decided that I should use my Masters Degree in resource economics to teach at the local University.  To my amazement I was selected to teach micro economics in the evening classes.  The reality of this set in when I saw my first class – the average age was over 30 years old and I had just turned 24.  I really enjoyed my first three semesters of teaching.  The first two I had significant challenges staying ahead of the lectures, preparing my lectures, writing tests, and correcting tests.  The third semester was also a challenge because the University changed text books on me.  That created a whole new set of challenges.  It was the fourth semester teaching that I discovered that not everyone, me included, was ready right at that time to be the best college professor.  In class I found my self diverted by questions that were asked.  I would think to myself, why are they asking that? I just answered that question for you last week.  Then I would recall that it was not last week at all, it was the semester before.  Just how the great teachers can treat every time a student asks a question that was answered in the previous section or semester is beyond me.  I did not have that kind of patience. I developed a great respect for teachers who can teach with enthusiasm the same topic over and over again and respond to questions as though it were the first time they had heard that question asked.

This patience plays out in many situations that involve young people.  Quig had a knack for the patience needed to teach the young and the old.  From fishing streams to rangeland plant identification to family history searches, patience was a strong suit for Quig.

I don’t ever recall someone saying Quig was out of patience.  It wasn’t as though there were no stresses in his life.  It was as though life was incapable of presenting a moment when he would display a fit of rage or a moment of anger.  How is that possible?  I have to admit this lesson, though taught, has been difficult for me to follow.  While I think I have great patience, I remain a piker to Quig.

The outside observer it probably appeared as though Audrey was in charge.  I am confident there were many situations when, in fact, she was in charge.  I now recognize this personally because there are many circumstances I face in my personal and family life when I am not in charge.  I don’t see this as a character flaw, or even a weakness.  Rather, I recognize this simply as a manifestation of reality.  In fact, some of the people I know who put on airs of being in charge, often really are not.  But they are not likely to admit it.

To many people the issue of who is in charge looms big and causes untold stress.  In Quig’s case the issue was not about who was in charge.  Rather, it was about the direction in which we were heading.  If Q&A were both desiring the same goals and were heading in the same direction, it was unimportant to Quig just who was in charge.  I think in Quig’s view there were several paths that lead to the goals he and Audrey were seeking.  Whether he defined an acceptable path or Audrey defined an acceptable path was of small consequence.  After all he was very familiar with big consequences – like alcoholism, loss of mother, loss of sister, and growing up alone.

If one couples patience with a large dose of respect for womanhood, I think you might begin to comprehend what motivated Quig’s interactions with Audrey.  Quig was available to meet Audrey’s needs – without mumblings or grumblings.

Quig’s patience was noted by family, friends, even those who casually knew him.  Observing these happenings had substantial influence on me.  As a supervisor, I was asked many times, “Why do you put up with _______?”  This blank could be a person’s name, a work form, or some process we had to follow.  My reaction would nearly always remind me of Quig’s – there are few of these things that are big enough to really make a difference in the overall scheme of things.  The next reaction from them was usually, “I can’t believe you are that patient.”

Friends, family, and acquaintances would often comment that Quig had the patience of Job.  The reality is respect was granted to Quig for the patience he displayed.

I am sure you have heard it said that patience is a virtue. I have witnessed this time and time again.  Whether it is the young person who can wait out a friend’s rant, a student who does not allow the injustices of the human built systems to push their buttons, the worker who patiently listens to a supervisor who wrongly assumes the worst outcome, or the father and mother who can accept the failings of youth without resorting to yelling, patience rewards the body and soul eventually.

Being patient requires work.  While I think it can become a trait that is easy to practice, it is not automatically ingrained in our mind and body.  The fight or flight instinct remains intact, but the mind can extinguish the flame that ignites in a situation trigged by emotion.  It is one of those learned traits that, once mastered, seems so easy that it is difficult to understand why others are having trouble with it.  In reality it took me years to gain a deep control of this.  I think the greatest step along the path came when I finally recognized that those we love the most are human and going to make mistakes.  Understanding that many actions are mistakes rather than willful acts of defiance was important to me.  I now realize that my own actions often times were the trigger for some else’s lack of patience.  Coming to this reality awakened in me a resolve that I would exercise more patience with those around me.  It brought a peace to me that has made a big difference in who I am.

My own children want to know why the two youngest were raised so differently than the oldest two.  The honest answer is that I was learning all along the way and some lessons failed to sink in until my two oldest boys were nearly ready to leave the nest.  There was no formal decision made to change my attitude and behavior, it all came slowly as I witnessed more of life’s challenges eating some people up and permitting other people to grow.  I wanted to be on the growing side of life.  The ulcers I so fully cultivated during my PhD program were one of the indicators that helped me gain new insight into patience.  Another grand gift was when I was called by the school bus supervisor who informed me that my boys were throwing rocks at the school bus.  I was so strong in denying that my boys would do anything such thing, that when I did verify that they did do it I had a heap of apologizing to do.  I learned patience to get more facts before I launch into denials or defenses.

I have taken plenty of instruction from those who have no patience, some even dating to my grade school.  I was gregarious as a young person.  Visiting with my classmates was more important sometimes than paying attention to the teacher.  There is a fine line in exercising patience when dealing with children.  Setting bounds and enforcing them while exercising appropriate patience requires skill and can become an art form.  An example of how this is not done was taught me by my second grade teacher.  She was a large woman who was more interested in discipline than teaching concepts and principles.  As you might guess for a gregarious type this was not easy or very satisfying.  My friends and I would use the occasion when she turned her back to us to get in a quick exchange or two.  Our teacher’s words still ring in my ears today.  Upon catching us, she would shout out loudly, “If you don’t sit down and shut up I will sit on you and smash you flatter than a grease spot!”  We took no doubt in believing that she meant it.  Some of my actions through the years have mimicked her more than Quig, unfortunately.

Bottom Line:  Patience rarely brings with it unhappy endings.  Indeed, patience builds trust with others and almost always results in acts of kindness in return.  As Quig used to say, “Kind words are always welcome.”

Principle – The mastery of self control will be witnessed by others as a strength, not a weakness.

Even at age eighty, Quig’s grip was more than firm. He had the ability to bring a grimace to anyone who shook hands with him. We used to climb on his back while he did push ups and arm wrestle with the mistaken idea that in your teens and twenties you were stronger than someone in his 40s and 50s. We were wrong. Quig was strong. But his strength was not witnessed through boasting, ranting, and raving. It was seen through mastery he had in himself.

Perhaps the greatest witness of this strength would shine through when the going got tough. Even when his face turned red as he struggled to get Old Chub, his trusted horse, to trailer up, no curse words would pass through his lips. He was in control of himself. It was as though he were first witnessing the event, and then responding to the situation, rather than reacting.

This pattern seemed to hold through his entire life. In their latter years, Audrey was driving home from an assignment while Quig slept. Audrey must have dozed off momentarily and went off the road, veered back on the road, and then off again, causing the car to flip and roll. When the car finally came to a stop, Q&A were both dangling upside down from their seat belts as the car rested on its top against a fence. Quig, with a very clear voice said, “Are you okay? You over corrected a little didn’t you?” I can only imagine what someone who is not in self control might have done and said at that moment.

Both Q&A used an approach to communication that included a pause before responding. I assume that is where I got the same habit. In some discussions around the table in our home, a question would get asked. As I pondered how to respond, it was not unusual to have one of the kids say “Dad, are you with us?” This same pattern held in discussions with friends, colleagues at work, interviews with the media, discussions with congressional members, and in discussions with employees. On one occasion in a leadership team meeting, a colleague commented that we need to give Tom a little more time because his mind operates at 110 baud rather than 64K baud.

I recall walking off the football field as a junior in high school cursing along with many of the other players as we felt the sting of defeat. My older brother, Lewis, the quarterback, came around the row of lockers to where I was carrying on, put his finger in my chest, and said, “There is no reason for you to use language like that!” I felt small, not only because I knew better, but because I had failed to follow Quig’s and my brother’s example. I vowed that day to never swear again. I never used those words again.

To this day people witness me delaying my response. I think about what I should say. I apply logic and reason before I react. I am confident I owe this to Q&A.

I had a boss who would use foul language, apparently in an effort to show his reaction and provide emphasis. It was known that I did not want to be around that type of language. Whenever my boss would be in his office being very vocal and using foul language, I would simply enter his office and stand in the back. With few exceptions, the tone would calm down and foul language would cease. I would not have to say anything. My presence was a calming influence. I did not have to preach nor be obnoxious to get that outcome. In fact, I believe I would not have achieved that degree of change in outcome if I had been preachy or obnoxious.

The pressure was high during the ICBEMP’s long hours, tough discussions, and intense pressure. Often others would start to swear about something that another member of the team would do or say. Someone on the team would typically say “Tom doesn’t like that kind of language.” Or I might say, “We can have our discussions without that kind of language.” The team leaders started a bet that before the project was over, Tom would resort to swearing. At one particularly tense meeting, tempers were beginning to flare. I allowed the discussions to go on, perhaps a little too long, then I said with a louder than usual voice, “I’m going to be a butthead about this and stop the discussion now.” The room grew instantly silent, Lynn Decker, one of the team leaders said, “That’s it. He swore. Butthead is a swear word.” Of course I tried to assure them that butthead is not a swear word. About a week later at another team meeting, Lynn presented me with a “butthead” hat. It consisted of a pair of baby briefs (underpants) complete with leg holes, front fly, and an attached visor with the word “Butthead” emblazed in bold letters. Whenever the going got tough in team meetings I would pull out my butthead hat, put it on my head, and the tension would immediately begin to leave the room.

On one particularly bad day in the life of the ICBEMP project, bad news spread like wildfire through the teams. Jeff Blackwood, the leader for the management side of the project in Walla Walla, was away attending a funeral for a family member. I was briefing several of the collaborators to the project at a site several blocks from our office. Kathy Campbell, from the communications team entered the briefing room and quickly made her way to my side at the head of the room. She said in a very certain tone that I was needed immediately back at the office. I said “Now?” She said, “Yes, now.” I excused myself, told the group I would get back to them later and left with Kathy. She swept me quickly into her car and told me the story as she drove quickly back to the office. I have little doubt that if Jeff had been there, he would have handled the situation without seeking my involvement. But Jeff was not there. In fact it appeared as though no one was acting calm and no one was exercising leadership. I asked Kathy to get on the PA system and ask everyone to come to the large conference room now. I quickly discovered that several of the team members had already left the building vowing not to return to the project. Rumors had spread like lightening and the mood in the office was very grim.

It did not take long before the conference room had a crowd. I reassured everyone that we would weather this storm, there was no need to panic, that their work was valued, and that I would get to the bottom of the issues quickly. I then opened it up for discussion and questions. We spent about an hour or two going over the events of the day, what our assignment was, and how we could succeed. Two of the key players walked out before I got there. They never came back to the project. I suspect nothing I might have said could have stopped them, but there were many who were in the process of packing up their offices that day who remained faithfully on the project after our discussions in the conference room. That day became known in the project as “Black Friday”. Many team members expressed to me that it was my calming influence and acts of self control that contained the damage. It could easily have been the end of the project on that day.

Displays of anger or shouting were not part of our upbringing. In fact, it was well known that Q&A would sit you across the kitchen table from them as they would point out how disappointed they were in our actions. There was never any doubt about it when we had done something wrong. But there was never a belt, shouting match, slap, or hit – Q&A were in control of their emotions, words, and actions. Indeed we knew they had self control. Many times I thought it would have been much less painful to have been whipped than to witness their pain as they shared their disappointment with us. We knew they were strong.

One of my best friends in Kanosh had very different experiences growing up in his home. He would tell me on a day when we were both caught in some mischief that he would get a whipping with the belt when he got home. I think his father was convinced that it was fear that he needed to instill in his boys to get the level of obedience he sought. While it is true that fear was the motivator in his home, the boys found ways to avoid getting caught in mischievousness more than they learned self control from their father.

I learned that it is not easy to stay in control all the time. Kerry and I went through a period when our oldest two boys were swatted on the butt. We were not proud then and we are not proud now of the times we used that form of discipline. For our youngest two kids we were more patient and understanding. I don’t recall giving them swats like we did the older boys, although Kerry reminds me that occasionally we may have a selective memory on things like this. I don’t recall any single event or even the year when we stopped using swats on the butt, but we did stop doing it. At times now we see our own children getting out of patience with their children and it dredges up those times when we were less than patient with our children. It is hard to be patient all the time, but I am convinced now that it is worth it.

Bottom Line – Others see your displays of anger as a weakness, a manifestation that you lack self control. When you demonstrate self control others will see it as strength.

Principle – Service and sacrifice expands our capacity to love.

Holding some positions in life requires tough decisions that not everyone will agree with.  I remember more than one pushing match as a kid, initiated by a rancher’s son who thought it was unfair to cut back grazing on the Fishlake National Forest.  I am confident his ideas and words were not self instructed.  Indeed leading should not be seen as a popularity contest.  Quig and Audrey were quite clear on this point.  They were not out to become the most popular people.  They did not seek controversy nor demean others opinions, but they were very principled.  They stood up for what they thought was right and true.

As a female school teacher, Audrey expressed her dismay at the disparate compensation provided for her male counterparts who were doing the same work as women teachers.  Audrey was not one to remain silent when injustices were present.  She would engage in discussions, mostly with her fellow teachers, about the issue.  While attending the Utah State Teachers Convention, Audrey was surprised when asked if she would be the primary spokesperson in front of the entire audience on this topic.  Her style was rarely to occupy the public soap box, but she also rarely bypassed a conversation with colleagues on controversial issues.  Where she stood was clear, what she thought was understood.  Her words were never random, rather well reasoned, logical expressions, oftentimes preceded by a quite moment of thought as she pondered her words.  She came across as informed and thoughtful, even if sometimes opinionated – some even thought too opinionated.

My suspicion is there are thousands of parents who have accomplished successfully teaching valuable principles to their colleagues, families, and neighbors.  I simply do not have intimate knowledge of just how they taught these principles, but I do have such insight into how Q&A did.  And for the most part I think their example is better than my personal example.  Indeed, Q&A did not have a patent on teaching life’s principles.  I offer these writings as a means to highlight at least how one family learned these principles.  After all it seems to me that we learn from the examples of tohers, our own mistakes and successes, and from what we glean from rading, listening, and observing.

As a child, I witnessed some of the first manifestations of service from Q&A.  This should not be surprising.  We saw them doing all manner of tasks in service and sacrifice to the family.  We don’t connect early on that this is service and sacrifice, but later we learn that parents have more choices to consider than washing the clothes, cleaning the house, changing diabpers, preparing meals, and attending our events.  In fact no all parents make the choice to sacrifice outside activities in favor of home/family service.

Q&A were virtually always there for the kids.  Even though they both worked, they were available and dedicated to the family.  Just how many hundreds of school, church, and community events did they attend because they had a child or grandchild involved?  The answer just to my events alone exceeds 200.  How many of these do I recall Q&A complaining about attending or the distance that was involved?  None.

I didn’t fully appreciate the service and sacrifice this represented until our own daughter started playing volleyball competitively.  We traveled all over the Northwest – occupying nearly every weekend, fully exhausting several vans over the years.  Our family of four children was but a sampling of what we witnessed as the service and sacrifice of Q&A over six decades.

But the truly amazing thing about this story was the family service and sacrifice were only one manifestation of the commitment to service and sacrifice.  Church in small communities is in many ways a commitment to culture and community.  An assignment given was an assignment taken.  Leading in a capacity in church was much more than preparing a lesson for Sunday school.  The obligations of time –without compensation – often exceeded 20 hours per week.

An outside observer might assume that such commitment to service and its attendant sacrifices would build resentment or a potential barrier to family and others.  The reality is quite different.  In fact what we felt and witnessed was an increased capacity in Q&A to love and be loved. It was more a self enrichment than a depletion of a finite resource.

I have since seen the reverse circumstance play out.  One couple I know had no children, was very committed to enhancing their financial standing, and purposely planned activities aimed at gratifying their own wants and needs.  An ethic of service and sacrifice were far from their innate nature.  As they aged they grew more and more restricted in the circle the associated with.  They found many reasons to grumble about the community, the nation, their employer, and neighbors.  In deed their capacity to love had contracted to the point that they didn’t even seem happy with each other.  While I don’t think this is, or was, an irreversible state, I think the principle holds even in their case – provided they begin to develop patterns of service and sacrifice their capacity to love will expand.

So what is service – it comes in forms that have a common element – the reason for the activity, time, energy, and resources go to benefit someone other than you with no intent or expectation that you will be compensated in return.  Sacrifice – when you give up something that you value to benefit someone else.  If its all about you, then service and sacrifice are not shining in your life.

I suppose this principle is one of those that I must have soaked up.  Church, family, non-profits organizations, and professional societies kept me very busy, yet my personal relationships and capacity to love grew as I sacrificed personal gratification and served others.  My family relationships strengthened and deepened. I certainly don’t think I perfected this side of my life, but I do feel that I have not fared poorly in this regard either.  I think I grew better at service, sacrifice, and love as I gained more of life’s experiences and could better appreciate the qualities of these I observed in others.

Bottom Line – To the extent we provide service to others and sacrifice of ourselves, our capacity to love expands.

Principle – You can’t run if you don’t know how to walk.

I was one of those kids whose birthday was late enough in the summer that I could have started school a gear later. I graduated from high school at age 17. As most high school graduates, I was smart enough to tackle the world; there simply was not much I didn’t know. Of course I was wrong, but one does not find that out for at least a little while. My goal was very clear – I wanted to work for the Forest Service, just like my Dad and his Dad. I wanted to make a difference and be a real leader. So off to college I went to equip myself with the schooling I needed.

As many find out, all that learning in high school paid few dividends at college. As a freshman, I worked hard and did fair, but not great. I found myself distracted by this love bug that bit me hard and would not let go. I decided the only solution for me was to marry my high school sweetheart. So at the end of my freshman year, I was ready to rethink all my goals, abandon school, get married, and enter the trades.

Quig had another idea. With neither fanfare nor lecture, he quietly told me that he would provide $100 per month as an incentive for me to stay in college. This might not seem like much now, but in those days tuition was $110 per quarter, I was working on campus for $1.25 per hour, gasoline was 32 cents per gallon, and rent was $50 per month if I would mow the lawn and shovel the snow. The other reality in this offer was the accompanied sacrifice my parents would make – I was one of six children in the family. How could they possibly afford this?

The discussions that ensued were centered on the concept that you can’t become a leader in the Forest Service if you don’t have a college degree. Don’t give up on your goal to run – learn to walk first, running comes second. Sacrifice now so that you can have more when the time is right.

Audrey had been equally clear in her words. You can be anything you want to be. You have to get your priorities right. It won’t come automatically – you have to learn to walk before you can run. How many times did we hear this phrase around our home?

These messages were not delivered in rapid fire bursts in a short period of time. Rather they were delivered in calm discussions spread over several months – sometimes while traveling to a football or basketball game of my younger brother, or across the table at dinner, or while we worked together in the garden. There were also delivered over several years – though they struck me most and had the most meaning when I thought I needed to dropout of college and pursue a trade.

These lessons were still ringing in my ears when I contemplated going back to college for a PhD. With four children and what seemed to be a successful career in the Forest Service, I wanted to run even harder. So back to graduate school I went to see if I could still walk there. Quig was always available for a lift when I needed it. My family does not remember me in that year of intense graduate work as a soft, kind, and loving father. I have always suspected that it was my poor example during that year that resulted in only one of our children finishing college. I guess that there were some lessons Q&A taught that I failed to apply correctly in the initial fray. With hindsight I wish I had handled things better that year.

The lessons about learning to walk before you run came in more incarnations than education. Hunting was an important part of our culture in central Utah as I grew up. On one occasion I recall going deer hunting with Quig in the Clear Creek area. My brother and I were eager to trudge the mountains in search of the largest buck. Quig, in his unassuming way, said “you boys go ahead, I’m not feeling too well, and so I’ll just hang around here.”

As we spread out across the slope and up one ravine after another, we saw signs of deer but no bucks. Then a shot range out from the foothills near where we left Quig. We decided to circle back to see if there were bucks in that vicinity. As we approached the truck, Quig quietly asked “Will you two go drag that three point buck over here? He’s a bit heavy for me.” He had again managed to teach this lesson about learning to walk before we run.

Maybe it should be self evident that you need to master the simple before the complex. After all you can’t even sign up for calculus in college before you have completed the prerequisites of earlier math classes. Some economics courses even require math before you can sign up for them. These simpler skills, even though they may seem complex, in and of themselves, build on one another as your mastery level increases. The problem is we don’t always understand the prerequisites or even realize there are prerequisites for some things.

I had for many years believed that hard work and dedication to tasks was to be rewarded. Somehow bosses would recognize these traits and reward my efforts. I was surprised when my boss told me he wanted me to work less. I was just coming off the Interior Columbia Basin Ecosystem Management Project as the science team leader. As a group we had worked hard, long hours and accomplished what we believed was an important break through in understanding multiple scales in ecosystem disturbance processes. Why would my boss want me to slow down? I resisted and kept working 70 to 80 hour weeks. At every opportunity, Tom Mills would tell me the specific tasks he wanted me to focus on and to set aside the other work. Being a rather strong willed person, I pushed back and told Tom that I was working more than my required 40 hours and that I would select what projects to work on after my initial 40 hours.

Tom Mills and I went the rounds on several occasions. Finally, Tom revealed his rationale for demanding that I work less. He told me I was sick and getting sicker – I was a workaholic and needed treatment. Of course any self respecting workaholic would deny such an accusation – and I did. At some point Tom Mills talked with Kerry, my wife. She revealed my work habits, my hours, and my priorities. While I am not now proud of those priorities, I thought I was doing my best with all the work and family commitments I had. Tom Mills and Kerry conspired to work on me. I told Mills that I could break my workaholic tendencies if I could get extracted from the ICBEMP and away from my other assignments for a period. While we disagreed about how long that period was, we did not disagree on the need. Mills and I settled on an executive training detail to Australia. I pressed for one year, Mills said two months. I said six months, Mills said three months. Eventually we settled on four and one half months.

Kerry and I arranged an exchange. We would live in Queensland Department of Natural Resources science team leader’s home and I would work in his office and vice versa. Immediately following the 2000 Olympics in Sydney Australia, we settled in Brisbane. I didn’t have a key to the DNR buildings, so I had to leave when quitting time hit. I got home and Kerry was ready for a break so we would spend time together. I went through terrible withdrawals. I was working only 45 hours a week and not working on the weekends. Kerry and I traveled much of Australia and New Zealand. It was six weeks before I could settle in and feel good about lazy nature. I was able to accomplish some significant pieces of work while in Australia, in spite of my much reduced hours. I rediscovered that time with my wife was really enjoyable. I discovered that Mills and Kerry were right – I did need to learn to walk as a non-workaholic. I again was learning to walk before I could run. Mills had brought back what Q&A had taught years earlier – priorities matter and balance is essential. I was out of balance and it took considerable effort to get me balanced again.

As time has marched on I have learned that one is constantly fighting the workaholic tendencies. I think I can understand at least some of the drive that an alcoholic has. I also suspect there are genetics involved in here somewhere. My tendencies toward excess are almost certainly linked with my Grandfather’s tendencies toward excess – I think I have mine under control, he never did.

Bottom Line – Succeeding in life requires simple and complex skills; learn the simple first and the complex will be much easier to master.

Principle – Respect grows from our actions. We gain other’s respect through our own actions that demonstrate respect.

To a certain extent the principle of respect seems circular – respect begets respect. Other’s will show us respect as they witness us being respectful to others and their property. By some measures Quig cut a fairly small swath in the overall scheme of things, but there were some constants that were ever present; showing respect was one of those.

The Kanosh Ranger Station was on main street in Kanosh. There wasn’t much there – 3 gasoline stations, 2 small (4 or 5 room) motels, 2 small family owned grocery stores, and a church. Beyond that, main street hosted barns, chicken coops, pastures, and homes. Highway 91 was main street in town, the primary highway running north/south between Las Vegas and Salt Lake City. In the 1960’s and 1970’s it was quite a busy highway – especially in contrast to today where I-15 bypasses the town by many miles. Now there is one gas station and one family owned grocery store still in business.

As I was growing up, it was not unusual on this busy stretch of highway to have two or three cars broken down in town each week. These travelers were a real mix of the well-to-do and the not-so-well-to-do. It made no difference to Q&A what the background was for any given stranded family, their helping hand was available. Some might have thought that Q&A were easy marks for the wandering to take advantage of, but Q&A looked at each family as someone in need. They would arrange transportation, food, tires, batteries, and blankets no matter the apparent circumstance of the family. This respect for others was not limited to strangers. They often repeated the words that “a friend in need is a friend indeed.”

Quig respected other’s property. It was not the pending inspection that motivated Quig to keep all the government equipment and property in good condition. After every use, Quig insured the equipment was cleaned, stored properly, and ready for the next use – his way of showing respect.

During one particularly wet spring, a series of rainstorms brought threats of flooding to Kanosh. Scores of people and equipment were scurrying to divert the raging waters. The National Forest was seen as an immediate source of rock to help shore up the diversions. Quig headed to Corn Creek canyon to direct equipment and traffic. Not far from the National Forest boundary fence is an excellent source of rock. Quig quickly walked the area and found petroglyphs among the rock rubble. This signaled to Quig the likelihood that this area was a burial ground for the tribe of Indians that inhabited the area anciently. Without hesitation, Quig signaled the equipment operators away from the site and to another further up the canyon. Quig also knew that if he announced this find to others, the likelihood of someone digging at the site in search of artifacts was high. To my knowledge he never announced to the crews or the public why he pushed the rock gathering to a site further from the pending flood, but it taught me a lesson I will never forget. That lesson, respect even for those not present to speak their mind is being respectful.

Growing up in our household, spankings were unheard of. Cross a line that you shouldn’t and you would be summoned to the kitchen table for a discussion with Q&A. How many times would I rather have had a licking than sit at the table for that discussion? Show disrespect and the chances were high you would end up at the kitchen table. These discussions were not shouting or swearing or ranting. They usually began with the phrase “We are disappointed that you…” These were tough and hard to take sometimes, but I never felt disrespected in the process.

As a preteen I was enamored with motors. The Ranger Station where we lived had this great self-powered lawn mower. It was the reel type of mower with a five horsepower Briggs & Stratton engine mounted above two large wheels that had lots of power. I loved to whip around the yard mowing the lawn with that mower. I felt empowered to be in control of that machine. It occurred to me that this machine had the ability to become a little profit center for me – not in mowing other peoples lawns, but in moving friends up and down the street. I set about to design a people mover by attaching the red wagon behind the mower handle. By kneeling up in the wagon so I could steer the mower, there was room for a friend to sit behind. If I put the mower on the sidewalk there was plenty of power and traction to pull us both up the street to the store and back. For a mere nickel my friend could get the thrill of a whirlwind ride up and down the sidewalk.

The plan was working perfectly. I was using gasoline I didn’t even have to buy, making money like crazy, and having fun all at the same time. There were rubber tire skid marks all the way up to the store from the mower having to work especially hard to pull the kids older than me. I was literally having the time of my life, that is, until Quig got home. I remember the sinking feeling as I headed back from the store run and could see Quig on the sidewalk in front of the Ranger Station waiting for me. My paying passenger abandoned ship before we even arrived at the Ranger Station. I brought the people mover to a halt in front of Quig. I recall him saying “Take the mower back to the garage and then lets talk.” Oh no, not the kitchen table.

Yes, it was the kitchen table for the next ten minutes. No loud words were said. No cussing. No smacks aside the head. I was reminded that the mower belonged to the government, not me. The gas was paid for by the government, not me. I had failed to ask permission and was not showing respect for other people’s property by my actions. Before we even started the discussion I knew all these things. But for reasons I can’t fully explain I had not acted in accordance with what I knew. I had failed to show respect and Quig was teaching me what I needed to hear.

In the 1960’s the Forest Service encouraged Forest Rangers to take their kids with them to the mountains to help with all the tasks. We rode in the Forest Service green fleet to count cattle onto the Forest, to mend fence, to repair water developments, to measure forage, and to check campgrounds. We even rode the government horses to get them in shape for the summer season’s work. Those were the days. I am sure it was those times that convinced me I should work for the Forest Service. Quig spent as much time as possible in the woods and away from the office. This was typical of the Forest Rangers of that time. It still is a lament that paperwork has forced the Ranger to spend more time in the office than in the field.

As a kid, I was excited to get to go with Quig. The work was fun, I thought. When we arrived back at the Ranger Station I wanted to move quickly to the next adventure. Quig was adamant that all the equipment we used that day be cleaned and put away. The saddles needed to be stored, horses groomed and fed, shovels cleaned, and the truck cleaned up. Quig used to say, “You never know when you will need that again, and it might just be an emergency.” In hind sight he was teaching respect as well as preparedness.

As a young Assistant Ranger, I was working for a Ranger who reminded me in many ways of Quig. Tom Eberhardt had been on the Conejos Ranger District of the Rio Grande National Forest for over 25 years by the time I started there. He had many habits that classified him as being from the “old guard.” Some were interesting quirks while others were quite intriguing. For instance, he had away of ignoring the Forest Headquarters that caused us as Assistant Rangers to have to follow closely behind him. We could never quite figure out why we were in trouble with the Supervisor’s Office so much until we discovered how Tom handled the mail. He would sort the mail into piles. Letters from a permittee, contractor, or the public would go in one pile, letters from politicians in another, and letters from the Regional Office or Supervisor’s Office in another. He would open his three desk drawers on the right side of his desk, take the letters from the bottom drawer and toss them in the waste basket, move the letters from the second drawer to the third drawer, and place the Regional Office and Supervisor’s Office letters from his desk pile into the top drawer. He then would proceed to open and answer the letters from the other two piles. I asked him once why he ignored the letters from the RO and SO. His reply was simple, “If they haven’t asked for it three times, they don’t really need it.” The other Assistant Ranger and I learned that we needed to occasionally sort through his desk drawers to see if the RO or SO was asking for something for the third time.

I thought it was interesting how a seasoned Ranger had sorted his priorities for showing respect. It was clear he had a pecking order to that. I suspect Quig did something similar but I was not in his office enough to witness his routine regarding mail.

I did gain a special insight into respect for the land and natural resources from Quig and Tom. If you work at the Ranger District level you will take your lunch break in the mountains many times. I learned early on with Tom that his style of lunch break was different from any I had ever before witnessed. He would stop somewhere along a mountain road and each a sandwich quickly. He then would grab a shovel and a saddle bag full of grass seed and head to a road cut bank, you know the steep embankment on the uphill side of the road. He would use his shovel to lop off one shovel full of dirt from the very top of the cut. He would proceed to do this for about 100 feet, then he would get his bag of seed and scatter seed into the newly cut turf at the top of the cut. He would proceed to do this for about 100 yards along the cut bank before it was time to get back to work. Why did he do this? He shared with me that it was his intention to treat every cut bank on the District if he could. In reality the road banks on that District were among the best maintained I have witnessed. He did it because he respected what Mother Nature had provided. He was a true steward of the land.

On another occasion I witnessed Tom run across a sagebrush flat to catch a caterpillar operator who was not scarifying the ground the way Tom wanted it done. The old timers seemed to grasp the significance of respect for the resource. They were certainly not victims of any system – they were in the driver’s seat. Today I witness many Forest Service employees who are tied to their desk and computer. I have not seen someone run across a sagebrush flat since that day in 1976. It is truly the passion that I witnessed in Quig and Tom that I feel we should all be showing toward those things that are important in our lives – important enough that they deserve our respect.

It seems to me that respect should be a given in all our lives. This holds especially true for those we love and hold dear. I fear sometimes that it is those we love the most that we find hard to respect. We see them do things that disappoint us and cause us to lash out. A good friend of mine was finding it hard to say something positive about his 16 year hold son. Yet I was seeing a young man who was bright, trying to head in the right direction, but also was struggling with some issues. I knew how Q&A got us to rise to our potentials – that was speaking positively to us and praising the good we did, showing us respect. In the end my friend’s son has a lovely family now and is very successful in life and his profession. The positive in him overcame the negative. He still have my respect.

I can’t say why it is that we seem capable of disrespecting those we are most closely associated with – our loved ones, our colleagues, our friends, our bosses, and our buddies. It seems as though humanity knows no bounds when it comes to showing a lack of respect. I have been guilty of more than I want to admit, but I will say I have improved much in the last 20 years. It seems as though life’s lessons came my way in this regard with triple doses. Maybe someday I will even feel comfortable writing about those lessons. For now, suffice it say I am more respectful for the trials everyone faces.

Bottom Line – Respect for others and their property will, in turn, result in others showing you respect. If you want respect, don’t demand it, rather show it to others and it will come your way in return.

Thomas M. Quigley