John Manchester, the mayor of Lewisburg, West Virginia, is what a reporter would call "a great interview." I know, because I interviewed him the other day as we walked through the blazing sugar maples and beech tress in a citizen-proposed wilderness area on the Monongahela National Forest.
Ellen Viereck's love for the natural world started at an early age. "I was born in 1928. When I was three, my mom had a pet squirrel, and I would dig the holes in the ground and he would put his acorns in," Ellen recalls. "So early on I had a connection to nature."
"I really liked the woods, growing up," says Jim Rogers, who was born in western New York to a farming family. "As a kid, I knew all the names of the trees, and I knew I wanted to be a forester, though I didn't know what a forester did."
Jim started making his childhood dream a reality during summers off from Syracuse University when he worked as a fire lookout for the U.S. Forest Service in Montana's Kootenai National Forest, and later as a firefighter and forester.
To some, the fact that Brad Chilton is an avid dirt biker may seem at odds with his profound love for the wilderness-and his desire to see much of his treasured Boulder- White Clouds in central Idaho forever protected.
"I enjoy dirt bike riding," he will tell you, quickly adding, "and there are plenty of places I can ride-tons and tons, but we also need wilderness areas where we can have peace and quiet."
Bob Handley never gives up, ever. At age 78, this West Virginian is as tough and experience-weathered as the mountains he calls home. Over eight decades, Bob has explored countless caves, survived an accident that could have left him paralyzed, attended the signing ceremony in the White House Rose Garden of the historic 1977 strip mining bill he worked to pass, and today he is fighting for wilderness protection for West Virginia's Monongahela National Forest. Based on his track record of success through perseverance, he is sure to succeed again.
You learn a lot about Gerry Jennings' style as a volunteer wilderness leader when you hear her say, "we have to educate before we can activate."
Gerry, who is completing her term as president of the Montana Wilderness Association, moved to Great Falls, Montana, with her husband and four young children in the mid-1970s. "We wanted a place where we could go to mountains, rivers, and just get outdoors," she remembers. "Living in front of a computer is a matter of necessity, not choice!"
Mike McCarthy has been working to protect areas on Mount Hood and in the Hood River Valley for decades, but his family has been involved for generations. It all began when Mike's grandfather homesteaded in the area in the early 1900s. With this history, one can understand why Mike says, "It's a family goal and a personal goal to protect farm land and special natural areas around Mt. Hood."
In late March,, Senators John Sununu (R-NH) and Judd Gregg (R-NH) introduced the New Hampshire Wilderness Act of 2006, legislation to permanently protect 34,500 areas in the Sandwich Range and Wild River region of the White Mountain National Forest as Congressionally designated wilderness.
No one was more joyful, proud, grateful, or responsible than Fred Lavigne and Evelyn MacKinnon, and the Friends of the Sandwich Range.
For more than three decades, Wesley Leonard has helped inspire and lead the movement to protect wilderness in the southwest. Aided by his ability to eloquently articulate the values of wilderness, knowledge of the land earned from countless hours spent in wild country (he spent 100 days on the trail in 2005), and an enthusiasm for getting out on the ground, he has been involved in the passage of wilderness bills. But what most impresses people about Wesley Leonard is not his past, but his plans for the future.
If you let him, Kurt Kuznicki will talk about wilderness for hours. A field superintendent in the construction industry from Reno, Nevada, Kurt has been involved with the conservation movement for several years. Married, with two children, he's become one of the great volunteers working to protect Nevada's last remaining lands.
"It doesn't matter what your job is, or how much you know about wilderness history," says Kurt. "You know what's right or wrong in your heart. And you know that these places should be protected for our children, and theirs."
