Kyle Steven Wear, a beloved son, brother, husband and father whose life’s work was dedicated to protecting the rare and endangered plants of his adopted North Coast home, died April 29 with his wife and stepfather at his side after battling heart issues caused by a virus he contracted six years earlier. He was 54.

Born to Mary and Bob Wear in San Diego on March 16, 1970, Kyle grew up surrounded by extended family, including both sets of grandparents and numerous aunts and uncles, during a quintessential Southern California childhood spent camping in the region’s inland valleys and swimming, spearfishing and surfing along the coast, the latter sometimes when he was supposed to be in class.

He would often take his adored dog Pepper down to Ocean Beach where she would patiently wait on the shore while Kyle went out, except for the time Pepper decided to jump off the jetty and he had to come home early.

At the age of 8, he gained a second father in Mike Klose, who played a formative role in helping raise Kyle and his younger sister Keely after marrying their late mother and remained a steadfast and guiding presence throughout his life.

Kyle graduated from Point Loma High School in 1988 and attended San Diego State University with an eye on a degree in engineering before transferring to Humboldt State University, where he took a botany course and never looked back.

Not that his college years were all about academics. Among his favorite stories from that time was how Sublime played twice in the living room of the house he lived in on Fern Street, much to the consternation of neighbors who called police, because some of the band members were friends with his roommate.

After receiving his bachelor’s and master’s in biology, Kyle went on to become one of the North Coast’s foremost biological consultants, known for aptly walking the delicate line of advocating for his clients while strictly adhering to regulatory guidelines.

During a visit home to San Diego in December of 2002, Kyle was introduced to his wife, Kimberly, at the party of a high school friend — who happens to be her cousin and married to her best friend — in a not-so-discrete group effort to set the two up. One year later, they were engaged, with Kimberly’s family often joking that he came pre-approved. They married in September of 2004 and settled into their life in Arcata.

The proudest moment of Kyle’s life arrived three years later when their daughter Averie was born on a bitterly cold January day that began with Kyle spraying down the car to de-ice it before they were told there was no need to rush to the hospital. By the time they were ready to go, the doors were frozen shut and an ice slick covered the driveway, leaving Kyle, Kimberly and her mom laughing hysterically in those early morning hours as they gingerly navigated getting into the car while trying not to fall — or wake up the neighbors.

His love for Averie was without bounds and Kyle spent many years taking her on hikes, bike rides and morning trips to Los Bagels. He was the dad who hand-made empanadas for bake sales, attended every school performance, cheered from the sidelines at cross country and BMX races and helped out on science fair projects that often centered around him teaching her about the basic tenets of his field, like using the 50-20 rule to determine plant coverage and how to define a wetland.

More recently, anyone who knows Kyle well enough was probably regaled with videos featuring Averie that were produced by her high school leadership class. Just before he died, Kyle was so proud of her for pursuing and receiving a seal of biliteracy in Spanish and making it to the state History Day competition in Sacramento.

Kyle was profoundly impacted by the loss of his mother Mary, whose outer beauty was outshined by her fierce love for and pride in her children before her life — like Kyle’s — was unfairly cut short at almost the same age. After her death in March of 2002, every major milestone — from his wedding to Averie’s birth — was tinged with sadness that she was not there to share the moment. Kyle often told Kimberly how Mary would have swooped Averie up as soon as they arrived for a visit and they would have been hard pressed to lift a finger to take care of her during their regular trips to San Diego. From Mary, Kyle inherited his artistic talent, which she inherited from her mother, and he, in turn, passed on to Averie.

Like his dad, Kyle loved to tinker on projects around the house, from making the polished concrete countertops in his and Kimberly’s kitchen to installing their home’s hardwood floors, although those sometimes resulted in shouts of “this is a disaster” before, as always, working out in the end.

Bob and Kyle spoke almost daily, often just chatting about the latest Padres game or Kyle’s most recent fishing excursion, with the answering machine regularly ringing out with the message, “Grandad, checking in.”

A talented cook who somehow seemed to use nearly every dish in the kitchen, Kyle loved to experiment with culinary creations, often taking his latest bread baking or wood-fired pizza endeavors to share with the many friends he made at Six Rivers Brewery and the Bigfoot Taproom, where he liked to “network” over a beer after a long day of working at his home office.

While on the quiet side in general, Kyle still made friends effortlessly with his easy-going nature, great laugh and a broad, sometimes silly, smile — one that shone brightest when he was with his daughter.

Preceded in death by his mother Mary, his grandparents, father-in-law Bob, Aunts Sharon and Linda and cousin Ryan, Kyle is survived by his wife Kimberly, daughter Averie, father Bob, stepfather Mike and wife Bev, his sister Keely, mother-in-law Nann and sisters-in-law Katherine (Tom) and Karen, as well as numerous aunts, uncles and cousins, his nieces Katie and Genevieve (Ryan) and nephews Robert, Tom (Nicole) and James (Emily) and their children.

Kyle fought hard after receiving news of his diagnosis, bouncing back time and time again to return to the field work he so loved, often confounding his doctors by his ability to still climb mountains, crawl under whitethorn thickets and trudge through slash to survey for rare plants and delineate wetlands.

Still, he was private about his health struggles, never wanting to worry even his closest friends and family members. In the end, the damage caused by the virus proved too much.

Kyle loved his family, his adopted North Coast home and the many friends he made before and during his more than 30 years here. In his honor, please raise a glass of whatever makes you happy. He would want you to remember him that way.

In the words of our wedding song, Kyle, in my life, I love you more.

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

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•  (VIDEO) There are Bears in the Tree By Pierson’s

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Bears in town are not a good omen for all sorts of reasons. Not a good sign for the bears and kind of a headache for people, too.

But there sure seems to be a spate of them lately, and the one upside to this troubling trend is that we get some good pictures of bears trying to navigate the urban landscape.

This evening, a mama bear and her cub kicked it in downtown Arcata for a bit.  They were spotted climbing over the fence at Pho Hoang and beating feet down G Street. Daniel Pacheco Browning (age 13) reports, through his mom, Anjali, that police were on the scene at Pho Hoang, and the Department of Fish and Wildlife had been notified.

In the third episode of Humboldt Waterkeeper’s special series on communities at risk from sea level rise, we hear from long-time residents and relative newcomers who share their thoughts and concerns about sea level rise.

We are also joined by Laurie Richmond of the Cal Poly Humboldt Sea Level Rise Institute, which is a network of academics, tribes, government agencies, NGOs, private consultants, and civic and community groups working to envision the future of our region. How will we adapt to increased flooding and rising groundwater in low-lying areas? Whether we decide to protect certain areas, relocate critical facilities, or figure out how to live with rising water levels, major changes are on the horizon. The good news is that we have time to plan, and a lot of people are thinking deeply about these issues.

Many thanks to Hilanea Wilkinson, Maurice Viand, Lia Stoffers, Weeramon Sudkrathok (“Cake”), Laurie Richmond and to Jessie Eden, who produced this episode with funding provided by the California Coastal Commission Whale Tail Grant Program. For more info:

• Cal Poly Humboldt Sea Level Rise Institute‘s Digital Commons (reports and publications on sea level rise)
• California’s new Sea Level Rise Guidance
• Wiyot Tribe’s Climate Adaptation Plan
• Episode 1: Is Humboldt Bay the Canary in the Coal Mine for Sea Level Rise?
• Episode 2: Can We Clean Up Humboldt Bay Before the Sea Rises?

Earlobedus (aer-lobe-dus) was a malady that seemed unique to first-year campers at Boy Scout Camp Tish Tang on Highway 96 just south of the Hoopa reservation. It was said to be a fungus that grew only in the ears of those scouts at camp for the first time. The treatment called for painting the ears and surrounding skin with Mercurochrome, thus giving the patient bright reddish-orange ears. As camp first-aid orderly in 1952, I treated several such cases.

Ray Oliver at the start of the 1951 Explorer Scout week-long wilderness backpacking hike into the Marble Mountains. Photos via the Humboldt Historian.

Earlobedus was the most successful of the usually crude and sometimes cruel jokes visited on the gullible or unwary. Another was to arrange several guys around a nest of big, black ants and trick the victim into standing on the nest while engaged, he thought, in friendly chatter.

Evening campfires on the Trinity River beach across from Tish Tang a Tang Creek provided another trick opportunity. The beach was about half a mile through the woods from camp. When a boy fell asleep, the rest of us would quietly slip away a few yards. We would then throw dirt clods at the sleeper so he would wake up to find himself apparently alone in the dark.

The camp namesake, Tish Tang a Tang Creek, flowed out of the Hoopa reservation across the Trinity River from the camp. The creek name supposedly meant a hook or curve because the creek flowed southward into the northward flowing river, thus causing the creek water to curve northwards.

The more famous camp tricks seldom if ever seemed to work. Among these were dipping a sleeper’s hand in warm water, snipe hunts, and Ex-Lax in somebody’s food — we didn’t dare eat chocolate pudding. One dark night we sent a kid out with the bag and flashlight lo catch snipe while the rest of us went off to chase the elusive creatures to him. We worked our way back to the campfire to find the kid sitting there roasting marshmallows. He made a few profanity laced comments to the effect that we must be pretty dumb to think he would fall for such a stupid trick.

The camp was organized into villages. Three villages — Riverside, Rockefeller Center and Sherwood Forest — consisted of Army surplus, eight-boy squad tents that featured center poles. The poles were constant targets since upon removal, usually late at night, the tent would collapse on the sleepers. To protect the poles, we tried nailing them to wooden floors, tying them to the beds or placing barricades around them. These efforts required inventiveness by pole removers. One tactic called for several “friendly” guys to walk into a tent and stand around the pole talking while one of their number knelt down, apparently to tie a shoelace. That miscreant would remove the nail or cut the rope protecting the pole, then the whole group would run out taking the pole with them. Sometimes the pole would be removed during the daytime when we were all gone swimming or at lunch and carried off into the woods and poison oak, thus forcing us to search for it. One night the inevitable happened; a falling tent pole hit and injured a kid. The camp director, Scout Executive Levi Young, decreed that the pole-stealing would no longer be tolerated.

Tish Tang Camp staff, 1953. From left to right: (back row) unknown, Tom Hill, Jerry Hasz, Rod Trogo, Dan McLellan, unknown, Pete Vallerga, Levi Yonng. (front row) John Burger, Wes Martin, Adelee Hasz, Nile Henderson, Rich Sloma, Zay Jorlano, unknown, unknown.

Sometimes the intended victim outsmarted the trickster. In 1951. we had to put up with a particularly disliked junior staffer I shall call “O” for obnoxious. He seemed to relish alienating people. We ate at long tables in the mess hall — not dining “facility” but “mess hall” — with a staff member at each table. At each meal, an inspector would choose the neatest and sloppiest table. The neatest got a cutout of Marilyn Monroe and the sloppiest, a ceramic pig. These stayed on the tables until the next meal or until other tables earned them.

Marlin Brady, the cook, also disliked O. One lunch, Brady hollowed out half a hot dog and filled it with pepper. We used the table waiter system in which one kid would get the food for the whole table. Brady put the re-closed, pepper-filled hot dog on top of the plate of dogs going to O’s table, and told the waiter to give the plate to O first. O took the pepper dog, bit off the good end and saw the pepper. He put the now half-hot dog on the plate coming to my table. As the plate arrived, a lad from Crescent City grabbed the really hot hot dog, stuffed it into his mouth, and immediately grabbed the pitcher of the bug juice (bug juice was a Kool-Aid type drink in which the dregs of the powder resembled bugs when it settled to the bottom of the pitcher), spilling it, water and food, all over the table. We got the pig that day.

Camp Tish-Tang was the Boy Scout Redwood Area Council’s summer camp from 1948 to 1964. When Trinity River floods damaged the area camp, it had to be abandoned. It is now a Forest Service camping area. On my last visit some twenty years ago, I was saddened to see that only a very few of the structures — some that I helped build — remained. Much of the building work was done by work parties on the weekends in the Spring. A few days before camp opened in June, a small advance guard would go to set up the camp and get things ready for the camp period, usually three to four weeks. After the camp period, a rear guard would stay for a few days to close up and do other jobs on the road, structures and waterfront area.

Cooking staff at Tish Tang, 1953. left to right: Pete Vallerga, Adelee Hasz (camp cook), and Wes Martin.

The late 1940s and early ‘50s were, of course, shortly after World War II and during the Korean War. Many of the adult staffers had recently served in the military, so that might account for the use of military terms: advance guard, rear guard, mess hall, K.P., first aid orderly, canteen, retreat formation, troops, patrols, latrines, officer of the day and others. We also used quite a bit of military surplus, especially the food. Who could forget the powdered eggs and dried potato cubes? There was also a flat, disc-shaped chocolate candy that had been made in the tropics. The stuff did not melt or get soft in the hand or mouth. We had to break off a piece and chew it for awhile to soften it up. Another favorite was a kind of rubbery cheese that came in big hunks. We had to break off chunks and chew them for a while as well. After a few times, we rather liked the stuff. Perhaps the favorite was the bug juice Kool-aid. The camp was in a valley that got very warm during the day so we all looked forward to the bug juice.

The warmth and humidity seemed to make poison oak grow into big bushes and even small trees. We heard that urine would kill the poison oak. We did our best, but the stuff thrived. Our efforts created another problem — for example, junior staffers had to regularly bring around hoses and water down around the tents and other sleeping areas. Along with the squad tent villages, we had sleeping areas of open-front Adirondack cabins, kiosks and various shelters. It seldom rained during the June camping period.

Sleeping could be a problem when there was a snorer. Don Raffaelli of Eureka told me how his group solved the problem once in 1948. They picked the snorer’s bed — we used military steel cots so many would come to know in later years — and carried it and the apparently very sound sleeper to the river and placed them in the water.

Bugler Nile Henderson at the Camp Dining Hall, 1953.

Then the group waited for the victim to wake up. The bugler put some extra wind into his morning call to make sure the snorer woke to cheers of his tentmates. Camp Director Levi Young failed to see the humor in the situation and put Raffaelli and his co-conspirators to work cleaning toilets. Despite this and innumerable other transgressions, Raffaelli eventually became the Humboldt County Director of Public Works.

Toilets were a major area of attention, as might be expected of the gang of teenage boys. We had a daily health and safety detail to clean them. The smallest boy on the detail would be told by the detail leader — whose title was “the outhouse mouse” — that he. the smallest boy, would have to “go down the hole” in the twofor privies. That meant, he was told, a rope would be tied about his waist and he would be lowered through the hole in the seat to clean the wooden supports inside. After several such threats and even showing the small boy the rope, the outhouse mouse would decide the job was not necessary “this time.”

The privies did not have names as did those at a camp I attended in Wisconsin. There, they were named Coca-Cola for the pause that refreshes, First National for making deposits, and Little Egypt for building pyramids.

When the camping period ended, we had several days when a few of the staff stayed to fold the tents, close the waterfront area, put things away and do various repair jobs. On the last day of the rear guard in 1951, Levi Young decided to take a hike across the river to a box canyon he wanted to look at as a site for future overnight hikes. It was a pleasant hike along a small creek. Coming back later that day. we followed the same trail we had taken in the morning. In the trail, we saw cougar tracks on top of the tracks we had made that morning. The cougar tracks were going the same direction we had. We wondered if the cougar had been thinking of joining the Scouts for lunch. Maybe we smelled too bad.

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The story above was originally printed in the Summer 2006 issue of the Humboldt Historian, a journal of the Humboldt County Historical Society. It is reprinted here with permission. The Humboldt County Historical Society is a nonprofit organization devoted to archiving, preserving and sharing Humboldt County’s rich history. You can become a member and receive a year’s worth of new issues of The Humboldt Historian at this link.

On Friday morning, retired U.S. Army Private First-Class Jacob Williams and his wife Meredith unlocked their new – free – home in Fortuna for the first time. 

Holding one of his two young sons on his hip, Williams said the house marked a “monumental moment” that would change the course of the family’s life. 

The home was gifted to Williams through the Military Warriors Support Foundation’s (MWSF) Home4WoundedHeroes program in collaboration with Wells Fargo, a partnership that has provided more than 400 “mortgage-free” homes to wounded veterans across all 50 states. MWSF has donated 500 more homes through other partnerships – providing each recipient with three years of financial mentoring after move-in to help them manage the property taxes, insurance and maintenance that homeownership entails.

The Williamses learned that they were selected for a home on former Arkansas Governor and two-time presidential candidate Mike Huckabee’s TV show (Huckabee) in February.

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“It was like a burden had been lifted,” Williams told the Outpost, explaining that the family had been attempting California homeownership through other avenues and programs, but kept running up against “closed doors.”

Williams joined the military in 2006, serving as an airborne infantryman with the 4th Brigade Combat Team, 25th Infantry Division at Ft. Richardson, Alaska. Less than a year later, in Iraq, a roadside bomb went off next to his convoy, injuring his neck and leading to the loss of his right hand. It was his 20th birthday. 

Williams, who has received a Purple Heart, the National Defense Service Medal and the Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, among other honors, said he has no regrets.

“Losing a hand was one of the greatest things that ever happened to me,” he said, adding that he uses the two degrees he has received in theology since to counsel other veterans, first responders and families.

The steady increase of home prices since the 1960s has added to the unique set of challenges that veterans – and especially wounded vets – face in securing housing upon returning from service. 

“Homeownership and affordability is such a critical factor right now; it’s really difficult for wounded military veterans given some of their circumstances,” said Kären Woodruff, senior vice president of community relations at Wells Fargo, explaining that many experience periods during which they are unable to work.  

Home prices on the North Coast have fallen since reaching record highs in 2020 and 2021 (Fortuna, Arcata, Eureka and McKinleyville were all included in a survey of California cities “where home prices are dropping significantly” last month), but only six of the 37 homes for sale in Fortuna this week were listed at or below $400,000, according to Fortuna Community Development Director Shari Meads.

“While these prices are significantly below what is found in other parts of California, the Humboldt County economy still makes them unattainable for many,” Meads wrote the Outpost via email.

The Williamses first visited Humboldt from their Redlands, Calif., home in April, and the move-in on Friday was the family’s second time seeing the city they now call home.

Woodruff explained that the Homes4Heroes program works by matching the needs of vets and their families with communities in which bank-owned homes (foreclosures) become available.

“We really want the veteran and their family to be successful in that community,” she said.

Speaking to the crowd assembled to welcome the family, which included Second District Humboldt County Supervisor Michelle Bushnell and Field Representative in Congressman Jared Huffman’s Eureka office Andrew Cairns, Williams said that he and his wife are not only here because of the home they were given, but also because of what they can give.

“There’s work to be done in this community,” he said, “Our lives have been changed, and we hope to impact and change other people’s lives.”

Williams was one of two veterans to receive a mortgage-free home from MWSF and Wells Fargo this Flag Day, the other provided in Littleton, NC.

The Military Warriors Support Foundation Homes4WoundedHeroes program is open to veterans wounded in either combat or training and unmarried Gold Star spouses whose partner was killed in action. Applicants must be honorably retired (or separated) from the military, must not have a current mortgage, and must intend to use the home as a primary residence. 

At a special meeting Wednesday night, the Arcata City Council voted to place a three-quarter percent sales tax measure on November’s ballot. If approved by voters, the tax would generate about $2.6 million of revenue annually, going into effect in April 2025.

The agenda item came just after the Council approved Arcata’s proposed budget for the upcoming fiscal year. Although the City’s finances are stable at the moment, budget deficits are present and expected to continue over the next several years. 

“The city has done a really good job of laying a good solid fiscal or financial foundation. But when we look out, we’re looking at budget deficits every year going forward,” said Director of Finance Tabatha Miller.

“We’re looking at running into the negative, and you can do that for a few years, especially if you have some reserves saved up like we do. But there’s a point when you cross that line, and it’s a problem.”

Councilmember Kimberley White chimed in: “We wouldn’t want to get into the position of where the county is right now.” 

“No, we do not,” Miller agreed, “we do not want to be in a crisis.” 

The Transactions and Use Tax (TUT) ballot measure could help avoid a crisis.  If passed, it would increase Arcata’s current sales and use tax rate of 8.5 percent to 9.25 percent. Miller said that the county is expected to put a similar .75 percent sales tax on the ballot, meaning that Arcata residents would soon pay a ten percent tax if voters approve both measures. 

Because it would join the general fund, uses for the revenue are unrestricted, Miller said. The revenue could help fund the city’s community ambassador program, juvenile diversion counselors, a new community center in Valley West and general infrastructure maintenance, among other things. 

Councilmember White said that an effort to educate community members about these services might be important before November. 

“It’s these programs that we’re going to lose, if it doesn’t pass,” White said. “I feel like our constituents need to hear that – in particular the community ambassador program.” 

In an April survey of Arcata voters, 72 percent of 567 respondents said they would support the tax. 

“That’s a pretty good number going into putting it on the ballot,” Miller said. 

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Prior to the tax discussion, the Council approved the City’s $87.6 million spending plan for the fiscal year 2024-2025, which begins on July 1st. 

Arcata is looking at a deficit of about $3 million, with just $84.5 million in projected revenue in the coming year. However, the City has built up reserves over the last few years that will cover any shortfall. 

Those reserves, totaling $15.9 million in Arcata’s general fund, are equal to around 299 days of operations, Miller said in an email to the Outpost.

“So if your general fund stopped taking money in tomorrow, you could almost get through a full year of operations just on your reserves […] which is something that puts us in good stead,” Miller said at the meeting. 

“When we start talking about structural deficits and some of the challenges we have, I do want to just commend the council and the city on really sort of putting us in a solid position so that we’re not panicking.” 

One of the more noteworthy deficits is the stormwater fund. For several years, maintenance to the City’s stormwater drainage systems has amassed more costs than revenue, resulting in a structural deficit. This year, the projected cost for upkeep of stormwater systems is nearly double the amount the City expects in revenue for the fund, coming from property assessment fees, grants and other sources. The City Council approved a Stormwater Rate Study last year, which is expected to provide some direction on how to financially stabilize the situation should wrap up in late 2024.

During a presentation to the council, Miller reviewed how proposed spending reflects the City’s goals and highlighted some projects Arcata will fund this year.

A bulk of the spending – $39.8 million – will go toward capital improvement projects. This year, some of that work includes safety improvements along Old Arcata Road and design updates to the Annie and Mary trail.

Meanwhile, the general fund is expected to spend $24.4 million in the upcoming fiscal year to support general city operations. At the meeting, Miller presented a pie chart showing how those funds will be distributed. 

During discussion, Councilmember Stacy Atkins-Salazar noted that the budget allocates $75,000 for the Mobile Intervention & Services Team, or MIST, a partnership between the Arcata Police Department and the Humboldt County Department of Health and Human Services. The service joins police and mental health professionals to help people experiencing mental health crises. 

Atkins-Salazar said the Council hasn’t received statistics demonstrating the success of that program, and wondered whether the funds would be better spent elsewhere.

“That doesn’t mean that valuable work isn’t being done,” she said. “But it’s hard to justify spending when we’re not sure.”

Atkins-Salazar said she’d like to hear a report on MIST, and, depending on the outcome, reallocate that money to the community ambassador program. Other council members agreed.

The Council unanimously approved the budget, which you can read in full here.

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Local Indigenous leaders hope to reignite the conversation around traditional cultural fire practices in an upcoming multimedia stage play, “Wusatoumuduk: We Make It Burn,” set to premiere at the North Coast Repertory Theater (NCRT) this weekend. 

The production, which will be partially depicted in Soulatluk, the language spoken by the Wiyot people, delves into the cultural and ecological importance of traditional fire management practices. The story follows the journey of a young Wiyot woman grappling with her identity as she learns about fire ecology in college and how modern practices conflict with traditional tribal land management techniques.

“She’s learning what it means to be Wiyot and what it means to take part in traditional practices, including cultural fire,” Michelle Hernandez, co-artistic director of “Wusatoumuduk,” told the Outpost in a recent phone interview. “It’s taken modern science a while to get on board [with the practice] but we’ve been talking about how important it is for ages. … I’m an artist, not a scientist, and this is my way of bringing this conversation to a wider audience.”

Native communities have used small, intentional burns as a form of land management for thousands of years. The practice was essentially eradicated with European colonization and the forced relocation and genocide of native people who had historically maintained the landscape. In 1850, the California legislature passed the Act for the Government and Protection of Indians, which outlawed intentional burning in the newly formed state. Decades later, the U.S. Forest Service implemented its “10 a.m. policy,” which decreed that all fires must be extinguished by 10 o’clock the morning after their initial report to eliminate fire from the landscape. 

The last century of restrictive fire suppression practices has resulted in increased fuel loads (dried grasses, trees, dead leaves, etc.) across the landscape that allow fires to burn longer, hotter and faster, making them more difficult to manage.

For decades, tribes across Northern California have advocated for “good fire” to be reintroduced to the landscape. Various state and federal agencies have implemented prescribed burning practices to remove excess vegetation, but some tribal leaders want to see a more intentional approach to land stewardship.

“The Wiyot people – and many, many other Indigenous peoples across the country – have used cultural fire to help us survive,” Wiyot Tribal Councilmember Marnie Atkins, one of the lead writers for “Wusatoumuduk,” told the Outpost. “Not only did we use fire to manage the landscape [and] keep our communities as fire resistant as possible, but we also used fire to care for the land. Some plants thrive after a fire, not the huge, devastating fires we see now, but the pointed burning of specific plants. We have a reciprocal relationship with the land – we ensure the plants and animals are healthy and well, and they keep us healthy and well.”

Atkins hopes the play will diminish some of the anxiety surrounding cultural burning practices. “I think there is still apprehension among people who think this is something new,” she said. “It’s not new, but I do still hear the apprehension and concern. Understanding the generational, observational knowledge of a landscape and plants and what they need is important – that’s where [tribal communities] come in. We’ve engaged with these spaces for time immemorial.”

Atkins has been looking for a way to bring the subject of cultural fire to a wider audience, either through an educational or artistic medium. Two or three years ago, she struck up a conversation with Calder Johnson, NCRT’s managing artistic director, and asked him if he could help her turn the idea into a stage production.

“In my mind, the place to start was through education and what better way to educate than with art,” Atkins said. “I had been mentioning wanting to do this project for a bit and, one day, Calder happened to be at a meeting where I was talking about this idea. Being as awesome as Calder is, he said that if NCRT could ever be a partner or support this work, or even if I needed help writing a grant, I should reach out.”

“I was more than happy to help Marnie make this idea happen,” Johnson told the Outpost. “Marnie is an incredible person and the whole concept was very inspiring to me. … This is a massive crisis that we have on our hands, and it’s good to see that more entities like CalFire and other state agencies incorporating native knowledge into an effective response, but it still needs to move faster.”

Atkins and Johnson applied for a few grants and secured funding from the California Arts Council, the Upstate Creative Corps and the National Endowment for the Arts. 

A few other people eventually joined the project, including artistic directors Michelle Hernandez and Zuzka Sabata, who worked together on the Bartow Project, as well as community contributors, Maggie Peters, Kate Droz and Solomon Everta. 

Lynnika Butler, the Wiyot Tribe’s linguist, has also worked closely with the writing team to translate various words and phrases in the play into Soulatluk.

“I’m thrilled that we have the opportunity to reintroduce Wiyot phrases and language to the public sphere,” Atkins said. “[The Wiyot Tribe] has been working on language revitalization for a very long time. Some people have said it is a ‘dead language’, but a language isn’t dead if you have speakers and the ability to learn your language – and we have all of that. … [Soulatluk] isn’t dead, it’s just sleeping.”

The play will also incorporate shadow puppetry developed by James Hildebrandt and performed by Jay Gehr, as well as animations developed by Chantal Jung.

“The animations will be incorporated into the play,” Hernandez explained. “There is a lot of storytelling in this play – all traditional Wiyot stories – and when that happens, we will play an animation of the story as the characters are telling them. The shadow puppets are another aspect of that. It’s like the story is coming to life.”

The production team will host a free stage reading of “Wusatoumuduk” on Saturday and Sunday, a sort of first draft of the play. Attendees are encouraged to provide feedback in a community “talkback” session after the play.

The writers will incorporate that feedback into a future rendition of the production, which, Atkins hopes, will begin to take form in the coming months. But first, they need to secure additional grant funding. Her ultimate goal is for the play to serve as a foundation of sorts for similar projects on cultural fire. 

“Maybe this play will make its way throughout the state or beyond,” Atkins said. “If it resonates with other native communities, maybe they will want to produce this play in their community and add in changes that address their local concerns or put it in their language. We see this as a foundation to build upon. … Maybe we can make a difference.”

There will be two separate stage readings of “Wusatoumuduk: We Make It Burn” on Saturday, June 15 at 7 p.m. and Sunday, June 16 at 2 p.m. More information can be found in the flier below.

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