Give A Hoot
Reptile Garden, South Dakota
Give A Hoot
Smokey Bear said, “Only you can prevent forest fires.” Dad and I visited Smokey yearly at the Wisconsin State Fair, so that saying stuck with me. Smokey towered over me as he offered a coloring book about how to prevent fires. His size was frightening. I was scared into never starting a fire. It seemed that Dad should have gotten a coloring book, too.
Dad started our house on fire in 1965 while trying to burn down a wasp’s nest. He put out the flames with a fire extinguisher, but the discolored burn scar stayed. Before that, just about every Fourth of July, Dad would burn a fingertip with a firecracker or almost send Mom’s beloved hammock up in flames with a wayward bottle rocket.
The Hamm’s beer commercial jingle was also ingrained in me: “From the land of sky-blue water...” As a six-year-old, my love affair with the outdoors began with the scene of flowing water on the electric Hamm’s sign at Krahn’s Bar, where Dad often took me on Sundays. He’d watch the Packers on TV while I played with billiard balls. Eventually, I’d get sick on kiddie cocktails, potato chips, and cigarette smoke. But the images of the river and the bear left me with a longing that I couldn’t fully identify until I was an adult, backpack on my back, in the middle of nowhere. Later, Dad took us out west on a family vacation that cemented my love for nature.
Isle Royale trip
As a teenager, I was impressed by an ad that showed a Native American weeping when trash thrown from a passing car landed at his feet. Created by an ad agency for Keep America Beautiful, it first aired on Earth Day in 1971 and won two Clio awards. Seeing a grown man’s tears left me with a deep sadness.
Understandably, the ad was eventually criticized for stereotyping Indigenous culture and was retired in 2023. But it had served a purpose: It helped reduce litter by 88 percent across 38 states. I know that ad impacted me. I never wanted to make anyone cry. And if any of us Schmidt kids tried tossing something out our station wagon window, Dad’s booming voice would also leave an impact.
“Give a hoot, don’t pollute,” was another slogan that shaped my attitude. With his huge yellow eyes, Woodsy the Owl was part of a US Forest Service campaign.
I think of these sayings on a sunny, warm February day in Wisconsin. This winter brought hardly any snow and barely a week’s worth of below-zero weather. Global warming is worsening, with 2023 and 2024 tied for the warmest years on record. Scientists say that American lives are more at risk with the recent firing of thousands of employees at the EPA, NOAA, and the Departments of the Interior and Energy.
Making snowballs out west in the summert
I’m trying to wrap my mind around the political nightmare we’re living in. “Only you can prevent forest fires...” leads me to think, “Only we can prevent a national disaster.” But 51 percent of us who cared enough to vote were bamboozled by lies about Christianity and grocery prices.
Now what?
“Give a hoot...” I do, I do! But the campaign chant of “Drill, baby drill” pierces my peace. Will the mountains we saw out west be destroyed? If so, what about the elk and antelope? Where will they go?
My mind drifts back to the lessons learned from effective ad campaigns when I was an impressionable child. I’m careful with fire, although admittedly, I’ve started two: one at the cabin on Pa’s Road (no harm done) and another here, when I thought the bucket of ash I dumped had cooled. The first fire truck to arrive put out this fire, but to my embarrassment, more trucks kept racing down my road with their sirens and lights on.
What would Dad do, say, and think if he were alive now? When people were celebrating Smokey Bear’s 80th birthday last year at the fairground, Dad would have been 97 years old. Because Dad was a man of integrity who served his country for 34 years, he never would have voted for our current president. Would he be protesting, writing letters, making phone calls—and would that be enough?
Memories make me nostalgic in these challenging times. After my first trip down the Grand Canyon, I thought about becoming a ranger. In the evening they’d visit each campsite and also hold weekly talks. Their passion for keeping America beautiful and us safe was admirable. In the past month, 3,400 Forest Service employees have been fired, including those qualified to fight forest fires.
Today, with the sunlight streaming in, I feel like Iron Eyes Cody in that long-ago ad as tears run down my face.