Remembering John Freemuth, who loved the American West

John Freemuth loved the American West.

He was passionate about its landscapes, especially its national parks. He served as a seasonal park ranger in the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, living, he said, in a trailer that housed Edward Abbey, storied author of “Desert Solitaire,” in Arches National Park.

John also loved westerners. He was as at home in a meeting of ranchers, miners or loggers as he was at the annual Wild Idaho conference of the Idaho Conservation League at Redfish Lake. He was most comfortable in his role as moderator in forums where westerners of both traditional cultures and environmentalists gathered together.

Most of all John loved students and they loved him. His public policy classes were provocative, funny and engaging. He taught two generations of westerners who went on to become public land managers, industry leaders and environmental professionals. One is Boise Mayor Lauren McLean. Another is Bureau of Land Management Deputy State Director June Shumaker. He never stopped teaching them.

“We went through the Bundys, we went through sage grouse listings… He was always there to bounce things off of,” said Shumaker.

These students have reached out to me and we have cried together for the last week for our great and sudden loss when he died of a heart attack May 1. Boise State University, where he taught political science since 1986, named him Teacher of the Year in 2001. His gift was that he treated all of his students as his peers.

He loved to discuss the issues of the day and history, not only in class but also over beers after class. As he was teaching them about how government worked and could work he was introducing them to the West he knew and its people.

“They, while often quiet like the land, are to be respected, listened to and honored,” said Scott Martin, executive director of River Heritage Conservancy in Jeffersonville, Indiana. “For me as a kid who came to Boise State from the East Coast, this was a brand-new world, culture and land. “John gave me a map, a dictionary, a compass and direction on how to make sense out of it all.”

Freemuth was a truth teller in the tradition of Wallace Stegner, Patty Limerick, Charles Wilkinson and Daniel Kemmis. He was a myth buster.

That meant he challenged the idea westerners could manage the region without the involvement and investment of the rest of the nation. But he also criticized the idea that experts pushing ideas like “ecosystem management” should make all the decisions.

To him it had to be a true partnership.

John’s much praised 1991 book “Islands under Siege” examined how the national parks were dealing with the increasing threats from the population growth and development just outside their boundaries.

The book showed how our national parks were threatened and examined some of the ideas proposed for addressing them. As he always did, examining public land transfers to the state or listing of sage grouse or other issues, Freemuth warned about the unintended consequences.

His core value was that if people could join together to jointly examine their problems they could find solutions that met all of their needs. He taught Westerners how to get along. At the same time he taught the rest of the nation about the West.

He used reporters like me, Keith Ridler at the Associated Press, others at the Washington Post, the New York Times, the L.A. Times and the Christian Science Monitors to explain the transition that was going on across the West. The last time I quoted him was on Earth Day.

He was more than a teacher.

He helped as ranchers joined conservation groups and sportsmen to protect the huge sagebrush sea. He encouraged timber companies and environmentalists to join into forest collaborations to help states play a larger role in forest restoration. He worked with western governors in seeking new ways to protect endangered species and manage wild fire.

His voice was amplified when he joined the Andrus Center for Public Policy and joined former governor and Interior Secretary Cecil Andrus in presenting conferences on issues from public lands, wildfire, western water and the media in the West. He had worked for Andrus back when he was a ranger, and now they complemented each other as they pushed the West to find solutions.

“John Freemuth has been an important part of our environment and public lands work over the past 20 years,” said Andrus, when he made him executive director.

John was tough on the media when its portrayal of the region was not accurate. He often told the story of a Washington Post editorial in 2000 that confused national forests with national parks. Then during the 2016 takeover at the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge by Ammon Bundy and his followers, John shook his head when an eastern reporter thought that protest against the BLM was about Black Lives Matter.

In the end, in the days since his death with the universal praise he received, it’s clear:

The American West loved John Freemuth.