Three of us made the entire trip, Bob St. Louis from Elko, Larry
Campbell from Klamath Falls and me.  Larry and I knew each other
slightly, but neither of us had ever met Bob.  Within a few days we
were closer than we could have imagined, sharing an experience that
comes once in a lifetime.

We were on a mission, part of a group of convoys holding auctions and
raising money, food, clothing and consciousness for relief for the
people of the Klamath Basin, all to culminate in a giant rally in
Klamath Falls, August 21, 2001.  We started off slow, with small
sympathetic crowds.

Ogden had been set up at the last minute, and few people and no media
attended.  A disappointing start, but the people we met were very
sympathetic and very interested in what we had to say.

Idaho Falls was better, a larger crowd, with many people donating
food, clothing and money for the Klamath relief effort.  A couple of
newspapers and a TV station showed up and I began to think we were
going to be able to do some good.  I remember marveling at the
knowledge of the water situation these people had.  They had been
following it all summer in the news and on the internet, and were
prepared to give what they could to support a community few had ever
been to.  With hope and excitement, we left Idaho Falls for our next
stop, and what would become an epiphany for me.

As we neared Twin Falls, we were given directions to radio station
KLIX, which had not only spread the word of our coming to town, but
had also collected donations.  Pulling up in front, we were met by a
group of employees, excited to see us and wanting the semi truck to
park near the front door to the station.

Entering the building I was numbed, I couldn't move for a moment.
Most of the lobby and a back room were filled with clothes, canned
goods and baskets, piled almost to the ceiling.  The baskets
contained homemade jams, jellies, canned goods and notes and well
wishes from what I can only describe as the great people from the
great city of Twin Falls.  From there, after loading the goods into
the semi-truck, we were escorted to the town square downtown, where
the people put on a barbecue, auction and entertainment.  A young
woman had composed a song about Klamath Falls and sang it accompanied by about 25 kindergarten aged children.  People had donated clothes
and food, and paid good money for the auction items we had brought
and those donated from the townsfolk. 

 

In Twin Falls, I was moved to tears by the goodness of people who, though we had never met, will always be my friends.  Like the bolt of light coming down to strike someone in an old smarmy movie, I was a changed man.

The next day, we headed for Boise, where Jeff Head had arranged an
informal rally.  A small group of people and a number of media
representatives were there.  Jeff, as usual, had done his homework,
and did a great job of getting the word out.  The city of Boise, as
well as Twin Falls, gave with their hearts, and we picked up
numerous large boxes of clothes and food.

From there we headed to Pendleton, always one of my favorite places
to visit.  Pulling into the convention center parking lot, we were
greeted by a group of 50 or 60 people at the entrance, cheering the
bucket and holding up signs of good wishes and promise.  Tammy Denee,
with the Oregon Wheat Growers Association, had arranged a dinner and
auction inside, and we were treated like kings.  The food was great,
the bidding was spirited, and Pendleton moved permanently from a very
nice town to a great one in my mind.  I'll never forget a mans speech
that night as he told of his family from Eastern Europe being told
one day they were being kicked off their farm that had been in the
family for hundreds of years, it seemed the government wanted it for
other uses.

The next morning, we were up early to head for The Dalles, and an
early morning radio talk show appearance at Cousins restaurant.  From
there, a quick rally at the Dufer Auction Yards, brought even more
media and more donations.  I was by now in a constant state of
numbness.

The empathy I received and the amazement I felt was overwhelming, as
I talked to hundreds of people each day, each one had followed the
water crisis daily, and knew exactly what was going on.  We were not
alone on this journey; it seemed everywhere we stopped people were
there to talk, to support, and to give from their hearts.

From there we proceeded south, to the Tygh Valley fair.  Many of
the rides stopped as the public address system announced "The Bucket"
was there.  The good people of Tygh Valley had reserved the best spot
on the grounds for us, and we were soon surrounded by generous well
wishing folks.  The afternoon was spent lounging and meeting and
greeting hundreds of folks.  We were not allowed to pay for food or
drinks, the fair vendors provided it free of charge.

Bob St. Louis was asked to pull "The Bucket" in the Grand Entry
through the rodeo grounds to kick off the rodeo that night.  I went
to the grandstands to get photos of the event.  After the rodeo
queens, and a lot of other riders, "The Bucket" pulled in last,
slowly making its way around the rodeo arena.  Over fifteen hundred
people stood and cheered.  A standing ovation for "The Bucket", the
people of Klamath County and support for what we were going through.
The clapping just kept going as the bucket made two complete passes
around the arena.

Tygh Valley was the first time I remember people talking about "The
Bucket", as if no other explanation was needed.  In the five years
since, I still hear the phrase continually, and no other explanation
has ever been needed.

The next day started with a morning rally in Troutdale, and it is
memorable because that is where people started joining the convoy.
People would turn on their lights and follow us, for a few miles or
to the next rally.  When we arrived at noon in McMinnville, we were a
larger group, and had a great rally promoted by Jo McIntyre, then
were taken to lunch by the group.

That afternoon we proceeded to Salem.  We had extra time, and no
rally planned, so we decided to take The Bucket and park it in front
of the Oregon Statehouse.  While pulling into a small parking area in
front, we were quickly stopped by an Oregon State Policeman.
Thinking we were going to be denied, we got out and went over to his
car.  He was on the radio, talking to other units, and telling them
to come to our location.

Panic was setting in quickly, until he put down his microphone, got
out and started shaking our hands, telling of his support for the
people of Klamath Falls and wanting to see The Bucket up close.  We
told him we were afraid he was going to kick us out of the area.

"When I'm on duty, I own this parking lot, I control it," The officer
told us, "You park there as long as you like, it's yours for the
afternoon."

Media showed up, and many well wishers from Salem stopped and chatted
or beeped their horns as they went by.  It was truly a great day.

Somehow we got the wild idea that since the governor of Oregon didn't
seem to want anything to do with the Klamath water situation, maybe
we should take the bucket to his house, and park in front for a
while.  A local media person got out a map and showed us directions
to the Governors Mansion.  When we got there, we parked The Bucket in
front, with other members of the convoy parked behind and in front of
neighbors' houses.  A very nice neighborhood, with very nice houses,
my own thoughts were that the neighbors were probably already on the
phone calling the police to come and get us out of there.

As we were getting our picture taken by The Bucket in front of the
governors' house, the neighbors slowly started coming out of their
houses.  They were honored and pleased The Bucket had come.  They
didn't like the governor any more than we did it seemed.  It was a
Saturday, and they told us he wouldn't be home.  They referred to him
as the governor of Portland, and said he never stayed in Salem when
he wasn't working.  A very nice lady, his next door neighbor, then
went into her house, returning a few minutes later with a jar of
homemade pickles.  She explained they had won a blue ribbon at the
State Fair, and she wanted to donate them to our auction.

We stayed and talked for as long as we could, then left totally
amazed and wondering what would happen next.  We were on a seemingly
endless roll that just kept getting better and better.

The next night saw us in Roseburg, with tons of media and a huge
crowd for the auction.  The great people from the great city of
Roseburg were wonderful.  They donated a lot of items and then bought
most of them back for far more than they were worth.  People were
paying hundreds of dollars for a cake or pie their wife or neighbor
had cooked.

The homemade pickles from Salem brought over $125.   It was
unbelievable, to say the least.  We were reminded more than once that
Roseburg had already had it's own disaster, with mills being shut
down and people losing their futures and livelihoods and they felt
they couldn't let it happen again to anyone.

After a week on the road, it was great getting close to home.  One
more rally in White City at the Big R parking lot and we would be
heading home for the huge rally in Klamath.  Life was good and for
the first time that summer I was filled with hope and optimism.

Pulling near the Big R parking lot, we discovered we could hardly
pull The Bucket in.  Dawn Trotman and others from Big R had
completely filled the area with goods to be auctioned.  I have no
idea how they did it, it will forever be a mystery to me.

Manufacturers from all over the United States had donated goods to be
auctioned, and over 1500 people were there to help raise money for
relief.

To this day, I cannot shop at Big R or talk with Dawn Trotman without
remembering the absolutely super job they did.  I heard later the
auction raised over $20,000.

The journey we had attempted, through our work, the work of the
Bucket Brigade staff at home and others, was a success.

Arriving in Klamath Falls the next day was just icing on the cake.
Thousands of people had come from across the west, and the parade and
ceremony, culminating in the placing of The Bucket in front of the
Government Building were the thrill of a lifetime for me.

Of course, with the high times come the lows.  Media reports of
outsiders and radical groups coming to further their own agenda were
rampant, and scared many people, even locals from coming to the
celebration.  Wouldn't you know it, but those groups never made it to
Klamath Falls.

Perhaps the lowest point came from hearing the local coverage.  Our
hometown newspaper had been quick to pick up every rumor and innuendo
they could find.  Placing headlines and cowardice ahead of courage,
journalism and community, they did what they had done all summer,
which was try to distance themselves from the people and the historic
struggle taking place in their own community.  Smaller newspapers
have won Pulitzer prizes for their coverage with less historic
situations.

In all fairness, I must say that many of the staff of the newspaper
didn't like the coverage given the water situation either.  Many were
at the head gates and meetings throughout the summer, trying to cover
what was happening.  Like many, I feel that upper management in the
paper was responsible for the poor, misleading and almost
non-existent coverage and thankfully, most of them are gone now.  I
guess you really do reap what you sow.  Sadly, as happened later when
The Bucket went to Homestead Florida in support of locals there, our
hometown newspaper gave us the worst coverage of almost any newspaper
in the nation.

To even ask, in a translucent, somewhat academic tone, whether The
Bucket should stay or not is an insult.  The question comes from
frustrated people with an agenda who want to deny history.  If it
doesn't come out the way we want it to, let's wait a while and try
and deny it ever happened.

The Bucket is history.  It is a symbol of hope and freedom to
countless people throughout the nation.  It is a reminder of the
devastation which can be brought upon people anywhere, by an uncaring
government mired down in politics, power and money.

It is a reminder that there are good politicians and good people
willing to fight for what is right and just in this world.  It is
evidence that the Klamath Basin was, and still is, ground zero in the
fight for personal rights and freedoms.

It is a reminder to the world that people can and do make a
difference, although the fight may take years or even decades.

Contrary  to what the media has portrayed, it is a documentation of
the fight of small family farms and businesses against the large
national and multi-national groups wishing to control water and land
for their own personal gain.

The Bucket is a symbol FOR all of those things.  It is not AGAINST
minorities, the environment or anyone's right to think, vote and work
for whatever cause they champion.  It is definitely against revising
or denying history.

Like it or not, The Bucket is a large part of our Klamath Basin
history, and deserves to be left in its rightful place of honor.
If you don't like that, I have a simple suggestion.  Start your own
crisis, garner worldwide attention, gain support from across the
nation, create a symbol of hope and freedom, take it on the road and
let it be known by all.  In short, create more history, and I'm sure
a worthwhile spot will be found for you in Klamath Falls also.