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Rural Oregon Can’t be Ignored (Water Cooler Interview too)

Rick Dancer — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 14:10:37 +0000

On our travels to the far eastern corner of this beautiful state of Oregon I’m reminded how forgotten these people really are to most of us. The population base of Oregon is in the Willamette Valley so we truly do control what goes on in this state. Our values, our dollars and our ideas all tend to center around what the valley dweller’s decide. A few years ago I passed through the town of Lostine, in Wallowa County and did a story on the guy who owned the only store in town. His family has owned the place for more than a century. Imagine the sadness I felt when I walked into the store and saw the “for sale” sign. This is a store that has a little bit of everything. When you service folks in the country you have to. The inside looks like it did a century ago and it’s a hub for conversation, gossip and the latest news for the folks out here. The owner told me he was selling because it was time for someone with new idea’s to come in and take a stab at the business. I’m sure part of that is true but I hate that. I didn’t get a picture, but lined up along the railroad tracks in Wallowa County were hundreds and hundreds of unused cars designed to haul lumber. It was like a graveyard to an industry that built Oregon and is now on the verge of dying. As we drive through the farmland around Heppner, Condon and Fossil I wonder how long these people can survive. I think these areas need more representation in Salem. I think it’s time we come up with a new way of designing districts so that those less populated areas have more of a say in what happens. Why do Portland, Eugene, Salem and so on decide what happens to people who live way out here? It shouldn’t be that way. Some of you will read this and say that’s just the way it is. What that says to me is you are the problem. It drives me crazy when one group of people thinks it knows what’s best for another. It’s as if we are trying to create a state based on what we think is right when in fact we haven’t a clue. I drive away from Rural Oregon, back to the world I’m more familiar with and I’m rather sad. We’ve lost something in Salem. We’ve created a machine that has little value for people and values mainly power. This is not a move back to common sense because in case you haven’t figured it out there is no such thing as common sense. Sense is far from common and unless we are willing to put people first in Oregon, we’ll soon discover that the bottom is deeper than we think. Last Summer, while following Gubernatorial Candidate Allen Alley through Rural Oregon, I did this interview with a woman in Mitchell, Oregon. It created quite a stir on the internet. Some in the valley tried to discredit what the woman is saying which only proves the point that we simply aren’t listening. I repost the interview for those who are interested because the feelings in Rural Oregon are still the same.

I Rediscovered Compassion in Condon.

Rick Dancer — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 13:55:40 +0000

The streets of Condon, Oregon are silent. The sun saying goodnight as it slips down over the grain elevators in the distance. Every once in a while the quiet is interrupted by the occasional pickup truck cruising main-street. Kathy and I sit outside The Historic Hotel Condon talking about nothing in particular when we see another couple on the street. In a big city another couple on the street wouldn’t seem like a big deal. In Condon, life after 7pm is an event. As the pair strolls by a comment is made, a conversation begins and within minutes a hush falls over the streets again. The man is a local, the woman, someone he just met over the Internet. She is looking for John Wayne he just wanted someone in his life. It didn’t take long for his story to take our breath away. Three weeks ago, his 23-year-old son, took his life. As the man recounted details his eyes watered and so did ours. There we are on the street, four people who don’t know each other but pain connects us in a way that only humans can be connected. He talked of how the entire town of Condon had come out to help him through this horrible time in his life. One night 300 people showed up at the Elks Lodge just to let him know they were there for him. He smiled as he told of the chalkboard in the bathroom at the lodge that was filled with comments about his boy. Kathy and I sat there and just listened and told him how sorry we are that such a tragic thing happened. As the man and the woman walked away, hand in hand, we experienced something you just don’t see much anymore. As they passed the fire hall, friends met him in the street with a handshake and a hug. I looked over at Kathy and saw tears running down her face. God didn’t create us to live in a vacuum. He made us to connect and assemble and love each other. But how and when that happens doesn’t need to be planned or worked out. There is no such thing as “Going to Church.” We “are” the church so perhaps it’s time we act like it. There is something we humans have that no other species has and I think it’s high time we begin to use it…..again. Compassion.

We don’t have to be just Sheep!

Rick Dancer — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 13:40:04 +0000

The rain is falling outside, the streets are flooded with water and Kathy and I are ducking in and out of shops alongMain Street in Joseph, Oregon.(written July 27th) We start looking at cards and this one jumps out at me and I must buy it. It reminds me of so many times in my life. The sheep dog is a picture of management at KEZI when new ideas would surface and the “Boss at the time” would quickly work to quiet the voice so others could be “Managed.” It reminds me of my political campaign when I would speak out against something my party disagreed with and folks would come to me “Privately” to tell me I couldn’t talk about that idea publically. It never stopped me from talking. It reminds me of the media when I was on the campaign and would talk about my idea’s and all the press could do was question the idea to death as it allegedly “investigated” all the while just trying to create “a story” and kill anyone who allegedly stepped out of line. It reminds me of the institutional church and how leadership would respond to questions about why and what we were doing. The sheep dog quickly jumped in to quiet and discredit those who dare to ask; “Is that really God?” Perhaps that’s why this card tickles me so much. I feel like the sheep in the flock, lifting his head to say; “wait a minute, we don’t have to be just sheep.” I’m tired of the sheep dog. I’m tired of the rest of the sheep simply putting their heads down, listening to the status quo, munching on the grass of dissatisfaction and pretending that everything is okay. I don’t think God created any of us to be “Just Sheep.”

Crystal Ball Christianity.

Rick Dancer — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 15:54:24 +0000

We spend our lives living for the future. We join this club or that club as we build the perfect resume to help us reach our “Future” goals. I know there is some reality in all of that but in the world Kathy and I now live in, most of that seems little more than posturing and pedestal building. Over the years I’ve heard it all. I wasted so much time trying to figure out what God was going to do with me. When you live life that way you miss something. What if someone had come to me and said “Rick, you will find your future quitting your job of 25 years, losing a race for Secretary of State and the real good stuff will come when you find out you have cancer?” I’m not going to spend my life planning for the future because the future is right here and now. That moment that just passed was the future. The one that is about to come, wait, I missed it because I was to busy planning for something else. Planning our lives loosely is a good thing. We can’t just “wing” it all the time. But I think most of us plan because we want control. We want a say in how our life looks and what people think of us. I don’t think God much cares about that stuff and each day my interest in self-preservation grows dimmer. Oswald Chambers puts it like this “His (God’s) purpose is that I depend on Him and on His power now. His Purpose is for this minute, not for something in the future. What men (and women) call training and preparation, God calls the end.” I understand that everything that happens works towards the future. But when I live my life too far out there, my focus becomes on what I think will or should happen, rather than what God wants to do right now. I find great comfort knowing that I don’t have a clue and that I don’t have to. God is in charge of my future so all I need to do is understand that the next five minutes are what’s important. I don’t know what will happen this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I guess I’ll just have to trust that He knows and then see what it is when it arrives.

Changes Are Coming.

Rick Dancer — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 14:47:27 +0000

My life is starting to unfold as this giant painting and God may be in the process of aging some of the color. What that means I don’t need to explain because it’s actually part of the process. This “Maxwell Family Reunion” is life changing for me. As I travel the roads of Baker County on my bike, I pass by old buildings, barns and trees that my great grandfather once passed and I wonder. I stop by the general store in Haines and see his name outside on the sidewalk because he built this store and it’s still stands as a testament to his strength. At the family reunion we wear nametags that tell which of the original 10 children we belong too. Mine says “Dewey, Rick Dancer.” How odd is that to think of this man, who lived 80 years ago, never knowing me, and yet here I am proud to be part of his lineage. What this tells me is that our lives, simply by being placed on this earth by God, have great significance. There are no mistakes each person has purpose. I watch as the older generation becomes the past and the younger cousins take the present and my children the future. We will always wear the “Dewey” title because that’s where this all started, at least as far as we’re concerned. I cannot help but wonder what my grandfather would think of all of this. This reunion is bitter sweet for me. My mom is not here this year she died just a few months ago. She loved the family reunion. As I look at her cousins, her sister, her brother and that house I see the empty chair where she would have sat spinning and retelling the old stories and I tear up. On a hayride around the ranch I hear stories of the old days and her name pops up over and over again and I’m so proud of her and who she was. On the way to the breakfast this morning, at the house, where “Dewey” grew up, and my mom used to play, I will take Jake to the cemetery where the Maxwell’s are buried, to put flowers on “Dewey’s” grave. Why? I don’t really know. I guess it’s a sense of respect. I guess it’s because I want him to know that he mattered. Perhaps it’s a way to rub my cheek against his and know that my mom is rubbing her cheek on the other side. Each one of us brings to this planet something we may never see. We must live our lives knowing that even though we see little significance is our daily toil that our lives matter. Imagine a world filled with people who understand this golden nugget of truth. God’s been trying to show us this since the beginning of time. I’m finally starting to get it.

Bare Feet Still feel so good in bed.

Rick Dancer — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 14:38:44 +0000

I woke up and there she was, this woman. She’s quite beautiful and so quiet as she sleeps next to me. I’ve slept with this woman for most of my life. I wake with her each morning. Next door, in the adjoining room is our two son’s and in the next room a cousin and Jess’ girlfriend Kirty. We are headed to a family reunion that I’ve been attending since I was just three years old. My wife came with me to this reunion the first time when we were dating, she just 18 and I was 21. So much has passed between the two of us over the years. We’ve had great times and our share of very difficult years. I still like the feel of her feet on mine as we wake up in bed. I still like the way she looks at me in those special moments when we reconnect. I look at my son’s and pray to God that they have the same thing I have when they find themselves in similar shoes somewhere down the road when more life is behind them than is in front of them. I look forward to a day with my wife. We will drive to Baker City, get the kids settled, and then we will climb on our bikes and do what connects us, ride. Tonight, guys you are on your own. Kathy and I will go out on the town in Baker City, the way my great grand parents probably did in their day, one hundred years ago. 27 years is a long time, yes but it seems like just yesterday. I still remember how that felt to wake up with her that first time. Yes, a lot has changed since those days but it’s still oh, so good to love and be loved by the woman I still dream of.

Living My Dream, In My Stream.

Rick Dancer — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 13:23:57 +0000

As I look out over the river the view is too much for my eyes, even rougher on my mind. A mountain seems to jet straight up from the rivers edge into the sky eight-thousand-feet. The water is rushing around my legs as I stand waist high in freezing cold glacier water. The color is crystal blue but not clear enough to see through. All around me huge salmon roll up out of the water and dive back down as if luring me deeper into a trance of trying to catch them. Just a few feet from me, casting as if synchronized by some silent orchestra are my brother-in-law and my youngest son Jess. This is his trip, Jess’ trip, his dream and it’s unfolding before his father’s eyes. As I see this young bearded man, casting, smiling, fishing, I realize this is his place. This is the world where he feels the most at peace. It’s not my world, although I love it. It is as if God dropped me into a canvas to see who Jess really is and who he will be. As I watch this life that his mother and I helped bring into this world I find something in my throat that chokes me, some call this “getting a lump in their throat.” My heart fills with pride as I see this young man living his dream. Then, the vision turns to me. There next to me is my Heavenly Father, with the same lump in his throat and the same pride beaming in his spirit but He is looking at me, His son, His creation. I say to Him; “thank you for giving me two sons and allowing me to see them for who they are.” He says to me; “Do you know why I brought you here?” I say;” sort of.” He looks at me and says: “Not only do I want you to see Jess for who he is and Jake (who is at home) for who I made him to be, I want you, Rick, to see that I see you the same way.” When we are in our element, doing the thing that makes us dance, or sing or fill with great joy, God, the creator of the universe looks at us the same way I see Jess right now. Now that is overwhelming to me. As I write these words I find tears in my eyes. I am living my dream. I always wanted to be “this guy.” It doesn’t matter what I do for a living or what position I hold or how much money I have, it’s all about this, right now, right here. When we truly allow God to take us through or into our wilderness we find Him on the other side. We discover a father who not only created us but also loves to see us simply being who He created us to be, not who we think we should be or are told by others that we need to be. So, here I am, in the middle of my stream, which is this computer screen, casting and throwing, not a fishing line but words that make up lines. What I catch is not my business or even my goal. It’s simply casting that makes my heart sing. And over my shoulder, just to the left of me, right now, is my Father, smiling as His son is living the dream.

I Found My Wilderness

Rick Dancer — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 14:16:07 +0000

I have been to many remote locations in my life. As a reporter I traveled to Rome, no, not the one in Italy but Rome, Oregon. My job took me to Jordan Valley, to Arock to remote villages in Guatemala and some towns in Romania where a U.S. citizen had never been seen. But my trip to Alaska was deeper and more rugged than any of these. When the Bible speaks of being in the wilderness most of us take that as a bad thing. I used to see it that way but have found great peace living where few have been or are just unwilling to go. In the wilderness it’s just you, God, His creation and the dangers of being alone. Oregon is a beautiful state but in Alaska, just knowing that few have been where your feet are walking, astounds you. In the wilderness you live alone. In the wilderness your face is pressed up against the creators. The rapid breathing and quick beating heart calm as you realize this is how life used to be. In many ways I think it’s the way life can still be if we are willing to go there. I will be sharing many stories about this trip and you will see it come out in my writings because I’ve seen something I recognized in my own life and it can’t help but impact my journey. But there are some stories I will not be sharing. What Jess and I experienced in the wilderness of Alaska doesn’t need words attached for it to make sense to us. Standing in a stream, beneath dozens of 10,000 foot high, snow covered, mountain peaks, with Fishing pole in your hand needs no words and can’t be explained. There are things I’ve always dreamt of being in my life. There are relationships I’ve always wanted to have and I found both in “my” wilderness journey to Alaska.

Looking Back; No Longer Dreaming I am that guy now. Wow.

Rick Dancer — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 13:01:48 +0000

Getting To know ME.

December 27th, 2007

It’s funny how vacation brings back the Rick Dancer I used to know. Right now I’m sitting here, with a beard, my hair is too long for TV. I’m dressed in basic stuff, no suit, no tie, and I’m ready to go skiing. There’s something about being Rick Dancer that gets real tiring. Not the real Rick Dancer, but the TV Guy. The TV guy looks over his shoulder when he hears his name walking down the hallways at the mall, that Rick Dancer has to smile a lot, even when he doesn’t feel like smiling. When that Rick Dancer gets sad, he is supposed to hide it. Nothing goes wrong in his life cause he’s the guy on TV. The Rick Dancer I’m living in right now can and will get sad. He also gets in the car with his family and sings Steve Miller Band songs really loud like he used to. He still smiles at people, when he wants. His hair can look like crap and he doesn’t have to shave. He has more time to listen to his wife and his kids. He has more time to sit and think about the things that matter. When he walks into a coffee shop, his schedule doesn’t keep him from spending the next two hours talking with a kid in crisis. This Rick Dancer is the guy who worked at Copeland Lumber so many years ago. He’s the guy who’s name meant nothing, who had no image to try and live up too (I’m giving that one up). He cares about people, loves God, reads books, really looks at people when they talk…..Man I like this guy. I wonder how I can spend more time with him and less time with the other guy? Getting to know me.

From The Archives; No More Easy Answerrs

Rick Dancer — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 12:54:17 +0000

It’s fun to go back and read what your wrote a few years ago.

Gosh, how life has change and stayed the same. No More Easy Answers January 6th, 2008

Remember the days when the answers were easy? You know, what kind of car should I buy? Should I work at the lumber yard or a drive in restaurant? What should my career be when I grow up? Fast forward 20-years……It’s no longer should we breast feed the kids? …..it’s who will they marry? You trade: do we buy them a trampoline for is that car or truck safe enough for them to drive. You aren’t as concerned with them catching a cold as you are getting involved with the wrong people. And then all of sudden, things you took for granted, are about to disappear. Death becomes a reality, not the end of some novel you just read. Disease, or it’s possibility becomes much more likely and not something you read about on the evening news. The things you do to occupy your time, need to have more meaning. You don’t have another 30years to blow doing something that doesn’t matter. You are no longer striving to get someplace….You’ve been there, that dream is subsiding and you’re looking hard to find the next one. It’s an interesting, scary, exciting, and challenging place to be…..it’s where I live right now. Me, Kathy and our boys. It’s okay. Hard times often lead to new paths. Still, there are days you’d like to put the LP on the record player again, put the needle on the 45, and let it hit the skip in the vinyl and just play over and over the way it used to. But we don’t have record players anymore. Tossed them out a long time ago. Even the cassette tape I grew up on is something of a relic. We’re into CD’s now. They don’t skip like they used to. Yep, there are “No More Easy Answers”.