Michael Avelar, of McKinleyville, passed away on November 29, 2025 at the age of 42 after living for many years with Machado Joseph’s Disease.

He was born on March 15, 1983, in Arcata to Henry and Maria Avelar. His arrival marked the beginning of a life defined by curiosity, creativity, and deep connection. Michael grew up surrounded by a warm, close-knit family who often gathered with relatives and friends—always with plenty of food, laughter, and love.

As a boy, he loved playing Magic cards, exploring computers, and reading fantasy books late into the night—long past when he was supposed to be asleep. In his early teens, he enjoyed playing golf. Michael joined a model rocket club, building rockets with friends and his close cousin, Jason Lowe, and delighted in launching them thousands of feet into the sky. His fascination with the cosmos led to countless nights of telescope viewing and astrophotography. Michael always wanted to understand how everything worked and why, a lifelong curiosity that shaped much of who he became.

At McKinleyville High School, Michael excelled academically. He was intellectual, scientific, and absorbed knowledge like a sponge. He thrived on challenging projects—often working extra hours simply because he loved learning.

His passion for computers led him to pursue a career in programming. After attending Humboldt State University, working in the photo department at Longs Drugs, and living in Arcata, Michael moved to Seattle, Washington. There, he spent most of his adult career as a valued computer programmer at Moodlerooms, working alongside his close childhood friend, Mark Nielsen, before returning to his hometown of McKinleyville in 2012.

Michael enjoyed camping, fishing with his dad, mushroom hunting & traveling—visiting Japan and Europe with Mark, spending a summer in the Azores with family, cruising to the Bahamas and Alaska, and taking many road trips, including two RV journeys across the United States & Canada to see national parks and monuments.

In later years, Michael turned inward toward spirituality. He found joy in spending time with family, taking scenic drives, and experimenting in the kitchen — making jams, cider, preserves, and baked treats, all “in the name of science.” Michael’s love of nature remained constant throughout his life. He also continued to enjoy his evenings playing video games.

Michael was preceded in death by his mother, Maria, and his brother, Nelson. He is survived by his father, Henry; his sister, Melissa; his aunt Elizabeth, her husband Geoff Wright; his cousins Grace, Gavin and Garrett.

The family extends profound gratitude to all of Michael’s health care providers, and especially to Jeremy, who lived with Michael as his primary caregiver and friend.

In honor of Michael, donations may be made to the National Ataxia Foundation to help find a cure and ease for others. A celebration of his life will be held at a later date.

https://www.ataxia.org

Glenn Edward Martella was born on January 10, 1942, in Ferndale. A lifelong resident of Ferndale, Glenn was woven into the heart and history of the town he loved.

Sporting a cowboy hat with red poppies and a toothpick tucked in the brim, he was instantly recognizable — a character and a legend in equal measure.

In his early 20s, Glenn became a dairy farmer, establishing a productive herd of Jersey cows. During his years in dairy, he shipped his milk to the Humboldt Creamery at Fernbridge, where he also served on the creamery’s Board of Directors. Later, his milk was shipped to Rumiano Cheese Company in Crescent City. During hay season, Glenn could often be seen on his tractor baling hay along the state highway—a project he began decades ago with his good friend Larry Pries, and a familiar sight that locals grew to expect and appreciate. He retired from milking cows after more than forty years in dairy but continued bailing hay each summer until his late 70s.

Glenn believed in service, friendship, and showing up. He joined the Ferndale Rotary many years ago and was recognized as a Paul Harris Fellow. A running joke between family and fellow Rotarians was that each Tuesday, when one of his kids would call during a meeting, he’d answer the phone only to say, “You know I’m at Rotary,” reminding them of the $25 fine he was ready to risk for them. Every holiday season, he looked forward to the Rotary Christmas dinner and always made his way to Santa’s lap, no matter his age.

In 1968, Glenn joined the Ferndale Volunteer Fire Department. He served with Company 4, holding the offices of Lieutenant and Captain, before retiring in 2004 after 36 years of active service. He later joined Company 5 (Retired), remaining active through 2023. He especially enjoyed cooking breakfast for the crew that decorated the town Christmas tree and participating in the firefighter games on Main Street.

Glenn was also a proud and longstanding member of Native Sons of the Golden West, Parlor #93, joining in 1979 and remaining active for 46 years.

Beyond his local involvement, Glenn enjoyed being part of organizations that celebrated hunting culture and camaraderie. He was a member of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, Wild Turkey Federation, and Mule Deer Foundation, and he especially enjoyed attending the dinners, social gatherings, and big raffles associated with them.

A jokester at heart, Glenn filled his days with simple pleasures: hunting, fishing, stock car races at Redwood Acres Raceway, card games, and shaking dice. He spent years as part of his best friend Larry Pries’ pit crew, and from time to time, Glenn would even race Larry’s car himself during the mechanics race — always with enthusiasm and just a hint of mischief.

His daily routines were anchored in community and in the familiar places that shaped his life. From early mornings at the ranch to afternoons over coffee at Ferndale Pizza Co., Glenn’s days followed a rhythm that connected him deeply to his work, his friends, and his town.

Glenn took pride in the quality of his Jersey dairy herd and in the largest elk he ever shot, which his child, Shilo, affectionately named Eddie. He also cherished time spent fishing with his children and teaching Shilo how to hunt. His stories became family lore, including the time he insisted the family cut their first-ever trip to Hawaii short after just three days so he could return home to finish bailing hay. 

A familiar presence around town, Glenn spent decades driving the streets of Ferndale, visiting friends, checking in, and making sure he never missed out on any fun. He was, in many ways, the embodiment of small-town life—hardworking, loyal, mischievous, and unforgettable.

Glenn was preceded in death by his parents, Elsie (Bruga) and Walter Martella; his brothers, Wallace and Gerald; and his former spouse, Diane Moran.

He is survived by his brother, Robert Martella (Ann Martella), and by his spouse, Kristie Martella (Kausen).

He is also survived by his six children:

Heidi Pietrok (Martella),
JP Martella (Marcy),
Jeff Martella (Holly Lucas-Martella),
Candice Martella,
Jessica Martella (Heath Hilton),
and Shilo Martella.

His grandchildren include:

Lanaie Baker (Martella),
Travis Martella,
Ashley Gleason (Martella),
Koby Martella,
Andrena Diven (Martella),
Taylor Pietrok,
Avery Fockaert,
and Jayce Fockaert.

Glenn Martella’s celebration of life will be Feb. 28, 2026 at 2 p.m. at the Portuguese Hall In Ferndale — 355 Ocean Avenue, Ferndale.

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The obituary above was submitted on behalf of Glenn Martella’s loved ones. The Lost Coast Outpost runs obituaries of Humboldt County residents at no charge. See guidelines here.

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Local naturalist Rob Fowler caught a pretty spectacular sight on Humboldt Bay this afternoon. He was able to grab some video of it, and he was kind enough to share that video with us.

Here, let him tell the story:

Hey Lost Coast Outpost, here’s a video of what seems to be a family group of five Orcas that were far into the Eureka Channel of Humboldt Bay this afternoon.

We first encountered them about a 1/4 mile south of the Wharfinger building/Marina Way and last saw them before they dove and disappeared as they headed northwest of Woodley Island and seemed to continue heading north.

They were then refound about a 1/2 hour later from Samoa and were headed south. That observer was Cedric Von Briel. And the Cal Poly boat also saw them as they were heading in from a deep water pelagic birding trip that headed as far as 70 miles offshore.

Here’s another shorter video (below) when they got pretty close to the boat. Seemed like a big male (big tall dorsal fin) and at least four females and a smaller younger animal with them.

This was after coming in from a pelagic birding trip that I organized as a chase trip for the very rare Short-tailed Albatross, three of which were seen last Sunday offshore of Humboldt Bay over the Eel River Canyon.

CORRECTION: This happened at about 4 p.m. this afternoon, Fowler tells us, not in the morning as we originally wrote. Apologies.

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The long-awaited Humboldt Regional Climate Action Plan — a multi-jurisdictional strategy to reduce greenhouse gas emissions — is finally up for approval before the Board of Supervisors. (We say “finally” because the document, which sets emissions reduction targets for 2030, has been in the works since 2018. Seven years of work for a document with a shelf life of four years.)

On this week’s show, guests Colin Fiske of the Coalition for Responsible Transportation Priorities (CRTP) and Matt Simmons, Climate Attorney at EPIC, join the show to discuss the merits and demerits of the Climate Action Plan.

Interested in more? Help urge the Board of Supervisors to adopt an improved Plan.

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It was following graduation from Arcata High School, that I found my part-time job terminated. I had been working on the dairy ranch of The Northern Redwood Lumber Company near Blue Lake. There was no question about it, the economic condition of the country was tough in 1931.

The dairy was operated by Ed Buck. I asked him if there wasn’t anywhere he might find work. I knew that he was the overseer of all the ranches owned by the company. Like all young fellows just out of school, I didn’t want to loaf around the house and sponge off the family. I hoped he would respond favorably because he seemed to like me.

I was pleased when he said, “You can go out over Kneeland to the Iaqua Ranch. You can’t expect any wages but you will get board and room and perhaps some warm clothing.”

This sounded great to me and I took the job. Mel Sundquist, a friend of mine was in the same condition and I told him about what I was doing. Buck gave him the same deal, so we went to Iaqua.

We reported to the foreman, a Dane named Chris Smitz. He put us to work immediately cutting wood for the coming winter. We cut down a large tree and using a cross-cut saw, axe, wedges and sledgehammer, proceeded to make it into firewood. Most of it was cut into 16” lengths for the kitchen stove. The balance was made into chunks suitable for the fireplace.

It was August 1931, and at that time of year in the mountains of Humboldt County it gets hot! We got brown and tough, which we appreciated. After letting the wood season for about two months we hauled it with team and wagon to a large woodshed for storage. As the wood was seasoning, we assisted Chris in sowing a mixture of oats and vetch that would be raised for horse feed. The company, I suppose wanting to save money, let Chris go and kept Mel and me to do the work. After all, they were still not paying us wages.

We had 740 Hereford cattle and ten horses to look after. During October and November it rained enough to sprout the grain. It looked in great shape and it had not snowed.

December arrived and the weather changed, turning very cold. Neither of us had experienced real cold weather in our lives. Mel kept telling me that either he was sick or awfully cold, because he was freezing all the time. He was a good cook. One morning he discovered the eggs didn’t break. Finally he dropped them on the floor and they still didn’t break. We realized for sure that it was indeed very cold. We didn’t know what the temperature was because we had no thermometer. Several days later we saw Charlie Johnson who told us the temperature had been minus 8 degrees.

The extreme cold gave us a lot of trouble. All the grain we had planted was killed, most of the water pipes around the ranch were split and some of the concrete watering troughs were cracked. We were getting along fairly well until after the New Year, keeping busy digging up and replacing water pipes. Our food was running low. Someone from the company was supposed to keep us supplied, but for some reason they had failed to do so and we were quite concerned.

We decided to drive down to Korbel to get our supplies and return the next day. It snowed some before we got started and there had been considerable wind.

We had no great problem until we got to Kneeland. There the wind had drifted the snow over the road to a depth of several feet. I was driving “Autumn,” a Chrysler Coupe, I had purchased in Eureka during the last autumn. We looked at that big snow drift and decided to hit it hard and thereby break through to the solid ground that we could see over the drift. Unfortunately, the snow was too deep. We came to a sudden stop, in snow so deep we had to crawl out the windows.

Fortunately, we had brought one shovel that we used to try to clear a way to get the car free. Several hours later we had managed to get enough snow cleared so that we were able to start the motor. About that time a group of young people from Eureka drove up. They had come up to ski. They all helped us get free of the mess we were in and we went on our way. When we reached Korbel we found out that Buck and another man had driven up by way of Butler Valley and of course, we missed them. That night, Humboldt County had one of the biggest snowstorms ever, and it kept on for several days.

Now, our boss was where we were supposed to be, and he was snowbound! We were busy trying to figure how we were going to get back to Iaqua and how we could get our boss back to Korbel.

There was nine feet of snow on Kneeland Prairie and five and six feet of the same all over the back country. I decided to try going horseback, traveling from Korbel up Mad River, crossing the river at the Cooper Ranch, where there was a livestock bridge suspended by cables. I got over the bridge without too much trouble and several miles up the mountain when the snow got much too deep.

Luck was with me for I met Jack Shaw, who lived on that side of the river. He gave me a good cussing for being up there in that kind of weather and then took me home with him to his ranch, where he put me and the horse up for the night.

Early the next morning I went back to Korbel, traveling the same route. Now what to do? I asked Mel for an idea. After some thinking, he said, “Let’s walk up there!” We had no snowshoes or skis and neither of us had experience traveling in deep snow.

An Indian cowboy who worked for the company said he knew how to make snowshoes using hazelwood limbs. He said they will bend and not break and we were to use small rope or leather to lace them on. We were also told they would last a few miles. We were uncertain how far. He was to go with us so we made three pair of these snowshoes and started out. We drove a company truck up to the Cooper Ranch, where we left it. Then, taking our snowshoes and our lunches, we started our hike. It was 4 a.m.

At first, we didn’t need the snowshoes. It was not until we really started to climb the mountain that we used them and took turns breaking trail. The one in the lead had a tough time because the snow was soft and frankly our homemade snowshoes didn’t work very well.

One time Mel stepped near a fallen tree and disappeared. Wesley Henry, the cowboy, and I dug him out. We broke one of his snowshoes in getting him out of the drift. From then on, Mel and I had to walk in our tracks and this somewhat slowed us down. He was big and strong, but his weight would cause him to sink deep sometimes.

Deep snow in open country erases all the landmarks. Fortunately, Wesley had traveled this trail many times so he was able to lead us in the right direction.

After reaching the top of the mountain we still had several miles to travel before dropping down toward the Iaqua Ranch. It was dark and cold, but beautiful with a full moon shining on the deep snow. An owl perched on some oak tree kept hooting. It seemed an eternity before we reached the tree where it was located. We were walking across pastures where six inches of fence posts were showing.

It was 10 p.m. when we arrived, very tired but safe. Two days later we were able to go out horseback riding on top of the crusted snow, so I started out at 3 a.m. so I could lead the horses back before the crust became soft. I rode one horse and led three tailed together. I had plenty of trouble, but made it.

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Chris died at his beloved home on Barry Ridge in Kneeland with me, his partner of 48 years, at his side, on November 29, 2025.

Chris lived with dementia for about the last seven years. Gradually he saw his connection to life slipping away, his passion for the natural world, his art, his music, his love of science and learning. His connection to this life was fading. He finally made the choice to end his life.

This decision reflected the determination, strength and clarity that was Chris. With the support of Dr. Michael Fratkin, Hospice of Humboldt, our dear neighbor, Michelle McKenzie, and myself, Chris stopped eating and drinking on November 19. He died 11 days later.

Peace and love permeated Chris’ final days. He died gracefully and beautifully.

Donations to Hospice of Humboldt would be appreciated.

I wish to add a special thanks to Christi, Samantha and Scotty of Hospice of Humboldt. Loving kindness is everything. Thank you, Margie Nulsen

Dillon Nadine Lewis, 65, devoted public servant, passionate equestrian, and cherished family member, passed away on September 14, 2025, at her home in Loleta.

Born Dillon Nadine Gage on February 19, 1960, at St. Joseph Hospital in Eureka, she was the daughter of John C. and Ima Gage of Big Bar, California. Dillon attended Trinity High School and built a life rooted in the natural beauty of Northern California. After high school, Dillon joined the U.S. Forest Service in 1978 at the age of 18 and 5 years later, on April 2, 1983, she married Brent Lewis of Big Bar in Weaverville.

Dillon dedicated over 40 years of her life to the U.S. Forest Service, beginning her career on the Shasta Trinity National Forest, Big Bar Ranger District, in fire, fuels and timber. Her commitment to conservation and operational efficiency led her to the Lassen National Forest, Hat Creek Ranger District where she served for a number of years. From there Dillon’s career transitioned to the Six Rivers National Forest, where she continued her contributions to the Agency through decades of service in fire, fuels, prevention, dispatch and eventually culminating with her final official role as the Fleet Manager for the Forest.

Dillon’s contributions to the agency were immense and not easily measured by any standard. She will always be remembered for her selfless service, personal courage, exceptional devotion and dedication, known throughout the Pacific Southwest Region as the “Quiet Storm.” Dillon on many occasions gave up her personal days to ensure the needs of the agency and employees were met, consistently putting the wellbeing of others before her own so that the mission would be successful. The good work, knowledge, guidance and education she provided to her fellow civil servants, and the public at large, will always be valued. Her contributions, and the positive influence she had on all whose lives she enriched, will not be forgotten. 

Throughout her life, Dillon had two great passions: German Shepherds and horses. She was rarely seen without a loyal German Shepherd by her side, most notably Yogi her constant companion, who she loved dearly. Yogi, who just recently finished his own journey through this life, is now by his mother’s side once again.

Dillon had many horses throughout her life and was an accomplished equestrian. In the saddle since she was a child, her love for horses translated into a lifetime of riding and competition. She was an avid participant in Gymkhanas and barrel racing, winning numerous events during her life and setting a high bar for friends and competitors alike throughout the equestrian community.

Dillon is survived by her husband, Brent Lewis and sister Gloria Green. She is preceded in death by her mother, father, and sisters Charlene Walkly and Lynn Duvet. A memorial service is planned for January 21 at 11 a.m. at Riverfront Lodge in Fortuna. The family requests that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to a local animal rescue organization in Dillon’s honor.