IN MEMORIUM: Dick Knight

Long time volunteer, board member and friend Dick Knight passed away on September 4, 2007 at age 72. Dick's dedication to salmon, water quality, and the conservation of the environment will be greatly missed in the Skagit Watershed and around the state. He was such a pleasure to work with, and he was an integral part of the SFEG family. He was always quick with a joke and a smile, and it seemed everyone he met was soon a friend. Dick was very active in SFEG, serving 10 years on the Board of Directors, and volunteering on virtually every committee. Over the years he volunteered nearly 5,000 hours teaching our community about salmon and aquatic insects, photographing events and creating videos for educational use, and helping to guide the organization. Dick loved and valued salmon and the Skagit River, and his boundless energy and enthusiasm for conservation and awareness remain an inspiration to those of us he left behind. Because he was so well loved and so actively involved, Dick’s absence leaves a gaping hole in our lives and our work. To honor his life and work, a memorial ceremony was held by 130 of his closest friends and colleagues on September 17, 2007 at Edgewater Park in Mount Vernon. Three cedar trees were planted in his memory along the river’s edge. People came from far and wide to recount inspirational and humorous stories of their interactions with Dick. We all learned something from Dick, and valued the opportunity to share our thoughts with others who will miss Dick so very much.

One of Dick’s legacies was his video “Salmon of the Skagit.” This video introduces viewers to the five species of Pacific salmon that inhabit the Skagit River system. Featuring Dick’s original underwater footage and narration, this video remains an integral part of SFEG’s educational toolkit. Dick’s efforts remind us what one person can do for resource conservation and awareness. If you would like to purchase a VHS or DVD of Salmon of the Skagit, please send $15 to cover costs to SFEG, PO Box 2497, Mount Vernon, WA 98273.

To help defray the family’s costs, a fund has been established at Summit Bank. To make donations, please send checks to the “Dick Knight Memorial Fund” c/o Summit Bank, PO Box 805 Burlington, WA 98233.

The following poem was read by Steve Olsen on September 17, 2007 at Edgewater Park

The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the
least sound
in fear of what my life and my
children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and
the great heron feeds. I come into the
peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with
forethought of grief. I come into the
presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.

Wendell Berry
(Collected Poems)

Dick Knight: A Celebration
Edgewater Park
Mount Vernon, WA
September 17, 2007

Respectfully delivered by Bob Carey

In his book the Good Rain, Timothy Egan wrote: “The secret of life in the Northwest runs in packs of silver; as with most mysteries, it lies just below the surface, evident to anyone who thinks it important enough to look.”

Dick Knight knew what the secret of life was. He was wise enough to look below the surface. Appropriately born with a name he shared with a famous line of fishing lures, Dick was beckoned to the Skagit to, as he once told me, “take a bite out of the Skagit steelhead run”. But while fishing was a love of his, what he really immersed himself in was tromping through streams, teaching others to look below the surface, photographing that which he loved, and cavorting with others—us—to help restore those silvery packs of salmon. He dedicated himself to these things so that those who follow could also enjoy clean water, healthy streams, the joy of fishing—that they, too, might benefit from looking below the surface.

After fishing for Chinook, Rudyard Kipling wrote, “I have lived! The American continent may now sink under the sea, for I have taken the best it yields and the best was neither dollars nor love nor real estate.” Dick was similarly enthralled by the iconic salmon. Choosing a simple life, Dick also apparently heeded Kipling’s perspective on money, romance and property ownership. Unlike Kipling, however, rather than suggesting the salmon nation could disappear, Dick engrossed himself in trying to restore their once prolific runs to the streams in the place he called home.

In some ways, Dick’s life echoed that of the salmon. The salmon, their silvery flash of life, are ubiquitous in the northwest--present in ocean, bays, rivers, streams of all sizes and lakes--climbing to elevations over 3500’ and traveling to spawning grounds hundreds and hundreds of miles inland. Salmon are—or at least were—everywhere. Likewise with Dick. As I talked to the friends and colleagues he left behind, everyone said the same thing: Dick was everywhere; involved in everything.

He served on four boards of directors. He was president of two of these groups. And, while most board members have to have their arms twisted to participate in one board committee, Dick was on pretty much all of them. He also volunteered for several more organizations, lending his photography skills or macroinvertebrate knowledge, his joy of streams. While he professed ignorance and incapacity to planting trees himself – “brown side down, green side up” he used to say – he did much to support that work. He logged hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer hours to this place, this river.

And he was reliable – always at the board meetings, always at the restoration projects, the stream surveys, the educational events, the committee meetings—even finance committee meetings! Almost never saying no to yet another request or opportunity to help. Always the first one there. Never asking for anything in return. During his years in the Skagit Valley, Dick epitomized what it means to give.

Harry Middleton could have been writing about Dick Knight when he stated, “The geography of [his] life wrinkles with water, with rivers, and with fish.” This is true. But Dick’s life extended beyond rivers and fish, it included people – many of them.

Dick, the person, was a good hearted, genuine, and affable character. He was a person who was friendly with everyone. No matter whom he was with or where he was, he could always be found in friendly conversation. He always found some commonality with people he met. Because of his tremendous volunteerism he had a broad network of friends and acquaintances – people who unequivocally thought well him.

Gary Snyder wrote that, “To restore the land one must live and work in a place. To work in a place is to work with others. People who work together in a place become a community.” Said more simply by Terry Tempest Williams: “Our attachment to the land [is] our attachment to each other.

Those of us who worked with Dick in conservation endeavors were his community. And his appreciation of people was always as obvious as his interest in those silvery flashes. He was always pleasant to be around. He made the effort to stop by and check in with his colleagues. He could always be counted on.

As busy as he was with his 1001 volunteer endeavors, Dick was always good for coffee and conversation. Of course, he’d settle for a beer and conversation. Or food and conversation. Or even conversation about food.

While it appears Dick had unmet needs of his own, he did his best to emit positive energy, to make others feel good. He always had something nice to say. He went out of his way to make volunteers and newcomers feel welcome. He often had a smile on his face. And even when something didn’t go quite right, he’d somehow find humor in it.

I think Dick took special delight in sharing his knowledge and affinities with children. He coached little league when his kids were young and enjoyed watching little league games in his later years. He loved to photograph children. And he particularly loved to get out in the stream with them. To turn over rocks and look for bugs with them. Rachel Carson once said, “If a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder, he needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share it, rediscovering the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live in.” Dick tried to be this companion whenever the opportunity arose.

In spite of Dick’s conservative leanings….or perhaps because of it…I quote Robert F. Kennedy: “It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others…he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope…”

Kennedy goes on to explain that if enough of those hopeful ripples are set in motion, they can come together to build currents that wash away obstacles and create positive change in the world. With the hundreds and hundreds of acts that Dick did to improve the lot of others, I only have to question our wisdom in standing here…in the floodway…this close to the river.

In death, salmon give life. They venture miles and miles upriver, against all odds and obstacles, to spawn and die. But they leave behind a new generation….and their dying bodies replenish our streams and forests with life giving nutrients that feed dozens of other species.

Dick’s life was dedicated to being a kind soul and to enjoying and restoring our salmon runs and rivers. And in his passing we are left with the legacy of his life giving efforts. His legacy includes:

• Five children and their families.
• The countless pictures he took that capture the beauty of this place and memorialize the many great restorative and educational acts that hundreds of people have been involved in.
• The educational videos he made that have taught kids and community members about the wonders of our rivers and our fellow inhabitants.
• The habitats that he helped restore, that are helping make new life possible.
• The adults and children he helped educate…who learned about the bugs and the fish…the life—that silvery flash—that flows through our rivers.
  How many of the countless people he touched will one day help restore the place they call home, will think a little differently about the downstream impacts of their actions, or will take their children to a stream to look for bugs?

We gather here in appreciation for an individual who was a genuine good soul, who completely dedicated his life to this place, the river, the salmon…and who has unquestionably done his part to make this valley, this world a better place for those who follow.

Today we honor the man in the only appropriate way: next to the river he loved….over a bit of coffee and conversation.

Thoughts delivered by Kurt Buchanan on September 17, 2007, Edgewater Park

Dick Knight was kind of like a favorite uncle, not really the quirky uncle either. But Dick was mostly just my friend. He was OUR friend. I wish that was not said in the past tense. Dick should still be our friend, who I could still see, talk with, work with, learn from. Too late.

Late last Friday my wife Jan and I got back from vacation, and Saturday morning at the Farmers Market I found out Dick died. Bruce didn’t know he was the bearer of the bad news, but Bruce is an old friend too, so who better to hear such news from? The rest of the day was not good. It hasn’t gotten much better yet. Like many of you, I’m was and am a mess of mixed emotions. Surprise, great sadness, confusion, distraught, some anger, and some guilt. All at once. And no solutions. Just time, and talking, and wondering, and remembering. But still the same emotions come back. Most of you are about two weeks ahead of Jan and I. Hope this gets better. I hope someone tells some funny stories here; laughter has to help. The only funny story I have is his solution to our nutria problem. Bring in some Cajun guys he used to work with; they will either smoke them, or BBQ them, and eat them all up. No charge.

I knew Dick in the context of fisheries enhancement work and education, only. Wish I had known him better outside this context. I’m not sure any of us knew him much outside this context, and I guess that’s how he wanted it. Or maybe not, I don’t know. A more private man than we knew, I guess. Because of Kristi, Lucy, Alison, Shirley, I had the good fortune to work with Dick teaching Watershed Masters, Stream Stewards, lots of watershed tours and bug training, and on various project committees. When one of them would call to ask if I could do something, they would nearly always say Dick was involved. Of course, what didn’t Dick do or get involved with? Look at his local service record, in hours volunteered per year. And those are only those that people actually wrote down. Look at how he was appreciated by the community. When I heard that Dick was going to be at a function, well, that was pretty good bait to get me to say yes too. Lots of us have good memories, and pictures, of such shared times with Dick. Dwell on those good memories; they help. When he was along a creek teaching about whatever aquatic insects we caught, or was showing underwater video of salmon or bugs, you could catch his passion about the subject. And that passion clearly resonated with many students. Remember Dick and his passion when you are asked to teach, or participate in whatever way works for you. His way is an example to shoot for.

Dick had a good level head on his shoulders. Kind of like the elder at the table, and we are supposed to respect our elders, right? And he was respected. He earned that. Dick was not a chatterbox, mostly. He could run a good organized meeting. He could, and did, disagree without being disagreeable. He was a friendly man, affable, not dominating, nor the life of the party either. When he had something to say, people knew to listen, fully. I never knew anyone to cut him off, or interrupt to head off in a different direction. His point of view was certainly valuable and valued, and more often than not helped guide whatever final decision, or direction the group took. I never saw anyone roll their eyes or react like “oh no, here he goes again…”. He gained people’s respect. He still has mine.

Dick dropped into this valley, seemingly from the moon; Arkansas. And look at what he did, and those he knew. He didn’t grow up here, he had no relatives, friends, business network, school friends, golf buddies, fishing friends, etc. when he got here. But look at all those he touched in the very short time he was here. Look at the network of people who knew and worked with him. Dick was useful to all of us. Look at the good work that has been done during his tenure on the Watershed Council, with SFEG, with the Forest and Park Service, and statewide with the RFEG organization. Lots of good work, and influence, starting from no base at all. Just from a lifetime of experience. Another lesson to learn from Dick here. When someone tells you that they are just one person, and a problem is way too big for them to make any difference at all, or their opinion will just be lost in the clamor of other voices, we know they are wrong. Dick has showed us that. One person can really make a difference, just an ordinary nice person. Dick did. So can we.

There is something I need to do, and Dick’s death hammers this home. I don’t know about you, but I have some friends who kind of match his profile, mostly older guys, who are single, divorced, or otherwise living alone. Kind of loners. I suppose there are women who are like this too, but I don’t know them. For the most part, these guys are friends who live on the periphery of my life. Months, sometimes years go by without our having coffee together, or a beer, or have them over for dinner, go fishing with them, take a hike, or just talking on the phone. Or email. Seemingly superficial, but still friends. Some are local, some aren’t. This is where the guilt feeling comes in. I should be a better friend with these guys. Friends like Dick. Maybe Dick allowed us to know him only to the extent he wanted. Or maybe I should have tried harder. If we were better friends with Dick, not just colleagues, would he still be here with us? Could we have helped, could we have prevented what happened? Too late now for Dick. But not for others.

Well, Dick was my friend, and I will always respect his memory, and the things he taught me. I just wish he was still around.