Be there a man in Del Norte County who doubts the need and the desirability of a public utility dock in Cres­cent harbor, let him look upon the activities of his neighbors.

These citizens, in the realization that a public dock is a must, acted spontaneously to make it a reality. They are giving of their time and resources to make it a reality. People cannot be stirred to such action without cause.

The cause, in this in­stance, is a matter of vital importance to each and every one of us in Del Norte County and in the surrounding areas. It means new life to the economic activity of the entire area.

The public dock now under construction opens the sea lanes for passage of lumber and other shipments in and out of Crescent harbor. There is to be room on it for fishermen and for the oil companies when it is finished. Each will stir the slumbering economic potentiality of Del Norte.

Where trade is active there is money. Where one industry prospers, others cannot fail to gain. From lumberman and fisherman, to farmer and store clerk, will be felt the results of activity possible through completion of Citizens Dock.

 Freedom of expression

I had the privilege of being one of Marc’s coaches when  he was playing for the Warriors. Marc was a 1986 graduate that played both football and basketball for Del Norte. While he performed in basketball, football is where he shined. He had that great attitude where he was willing to do whatever he could to help and was an excellent defensive back. At the start of his junior year we were struggling at the quarterback position and Marc stepped in and did a great job until we recognized that Blaine Lopez, the  junior varsity QB, should be playing varsity. This allowed us to play Marc where he liked to be and where he belonged.  After graduation Marc went to the College of the Redwoods in Eureka where he had a standout career as a defensive back. He was a sure tackler that was effective against both the run and the pass. After C.R. he enrolled at Humboldt State where he graduated and received his teaching credential.

It might have been cold and windy Sunday morning, but the sun came out later in the day and Rick’s overreaction to the weather left me with nowhere to sit outside. Watching Rick hustle around the yard with a rake and a trash bag made me feel a little guilty. So I grabbed my garden gloves, some hand tools and the six packs of Territorial Seeds I purchased recently and threw them all in a bucket and moseyed over to one of our raised beds. Time to plant our winter crops, one square at time.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Rick in the last 10 years, it’s that he is patient, disciplined and will research a project thoroughly before he jumps in. I, on the other hand, can hear about something one day and be anxious to try it the next.

For years, Rick has been intrigued by the science of square foot gardening (SFG). It’s not a new idea. In fact, the method dates back to 1976. The basic premise is that instead of gardening in rows, you garden within square foot grids in raised beds. A 4x4 raised bed, for example, is divided into 16 squares. In one square you could plant four heads of red lettuce or 16 carrots or 32 radishes or one head of cauliflower.

And it’s not even big challenges that would be called disabilities, but goofy little things that, nevertheless, impact our daily lives. The human mind is so complex, I suppose it’s no wonder little things don’t always compute.

What brings this to mind now is a new pair of shoes. I buy locally if at all possible, but I go to Oregon for my shoes. Harmony is in Harbor. That would make a rather nice Zen koan, but Harmony is the young woman who manages On Your Feet, a store in Harbor that carries upscale footwear. If it exists, she’ll find it for you, and I’ve discovered that you can handle virtually anything if you're wearing comfortable shoes and socks.

In the process of learning that it’s possible to pay more than $30 for a pair of shoes, I found myself insisting upon step-ins. I will never again wear shoes that must be tied. I used the creaky back that makes it hard for me to reach my feet as an excuse, but there’s more to it than that.

Enough to rouse me from the television set for a low-tide stroll that, for all its twilight beauty, was most remarkable for what it lacked. At the time of day when bluster is almost a given on the coast, the sea was holding its breath Sunday evening.

My plan for a quick down-and-back dissolved. The second half of the Steelers game could wait. I’d been watching it in bizarre fashion anyway, with a chair pulled close to the TV so I could follow the action on one of eight miniature video feeds on what my satellite provider calls a “sports mix.” This is thanks to the Eureka NBC affiliate refusing to grant a waiver allowing me to watch its network on an L.A. station since DirectTV doesn’t provide the local channels, but all that seemed trivial in the pink-hued surf.

After gazing at the spectacle from above, I started along the sand determined to take in whatever the darkening sky had left to show. The stillness was almost eerie, as if I were on a tropical island. That thought took me back to Wednesday, when an earthquake in the South Pacific swamped the Samoas and prompted a tsunami alert here.

Del Norte County has finally secured ownership of Whaler Island in Crescent City harbor, according to word received from Wash­ington by City Attorney T.F. Peterson.

This fact is settled in a telegram which stated that the U.S. Supreme Court had denied a writ asked by Eric Lyders, San Francisco attorney.

Lyders originally claimed title to the island several years ago. The county contested his claim and the case had been in court ever since, until it reached the highest court in the land.

Work-together spirit

Larry was a 1951 Warrior graduate that excelled in both football and track. Larry’s name appears on the old warrior blanket as the 1951 outstanding football player, but he was much more than an athlete. Larry was a total ball of energy and enthusiasm in whatever he did.

Sports only took up part of Larry’s interest, as he was involved in all phases of student body offices including student body president in his senior year. After graduation Larry enlisted for a three year tour in the army.

When he completed his tour in the service he first started college in Texas. That was too far from home so he returned and enrolled at Humboldt State. There he received his degree in psychology with an emphasis on the use of hypnosis to overcome various types of problems.

It was right here in California in 1864 that the idea “that our most magnificent natural wonders should be owned by all of us and preserved by all of us” became reality when Yosemite Valley was set aside as park land establishing the model for the future National Park System. “For the first time in human history,” Burns says, “land was set aside not for the pleasure of kings and noblemen and the very, very rich, but for everybody, for all time.”

Think about it. This land is your land, this land is my land. We are stakeholders in these parks. The parks are not merely “public lands.” They can be your back yard, your summer home, your Saturday adventure, your meditation room and the family vacation you’ll never forget.

In August 1995 a visit to Glacier National Park gave me the opportunity to spend a week with my youngest son against a backdrop of nature in its purest form. Dana was 13 and had just studied the National Parks in school. My parents took me to the Grand Canyon when I was his age and I had loved it, so I wanted to do the same for him.

The weather is lovely! I want to be out playing so bad I can hardly stand it. Unfortunately, I can hardly stand. I don’t think I’m a special case, so it must just take a long time to recover from the bug that is making many of us miserable. Even though this seems to be a two-week bug rather than a one-week bug, I’d be willing to add a third week if only I could postpone it until November.

The bug that bit me causes non-stop coughing, with a lot of clear phlegm, especially if you take an expectorant, which is a good idea. The more of that crap you can get up and out, the quicker you’ll get well and the less likely you are to develop pneumonia or pleurisy. Suppressing a cough does more harm than good.

Flicker has been calling for hours, coaxing me out to play. His call is so compelling I confess to being teary about my inability to do so. I cry all the time anyway, but weakness doesn't help. Flicker has taught me a game. I pry a hunk of bark off a dead trunk, then back away while he eats the creepy-crawlies I've exposed. Like any responsible pet owner, he’s been training me for years.