 Oh, well, I'm Jack Duggan, and I live at the very end of Forest Creek Road, up about 3,000 feet. My backyard is Mount Isabel. My front yard is Timber Mountain. I'm on land that's been in my family for four generations. We have 372 acres that my great-grandfather originally purchased for mining purposes in hydraulic mine. Built a cabin in 1910, and my grandfather was the last to spend any residential time in that cabin. It was the last few years of his life, and then I became the first of my generation to live on the property. My father never did live on the property. He went there for vacations frequently. We were living in Humboldt County in Northern California, and we would go up to the... up to Oregon for vacation. There was a caretaker who eventually had to be evicted. Not a great story, but one that was necessary, and that happened right after I went into the military. So when I came home from Vietnam, I ended up on the property, living in the old cabin that was built in 1910. And thin wall construction, facilities across the creek out back, cold water tap from a spring, and a wood stove. And it was absolutely high-class living for a viet vette to come back and the perfect place for a Vietnam veteran to hide out. May have been why I had very delayed onset PTSD, but I moved in in 1970 and began learning about the property. I didn't know squat. I had gone to school for six months, journalism school in Texas. And so I used my GI Bill to go to the brand-new at the time, Rowe Community College, and study forestry. And they had a one-year forestry program, and after I completed one year, well, they made it a two-year program, so I stayed and completed two years. And I've never stopped studying forestry since. And it's fascinating, and it's a field that is very complex, and we're still learning. And it seems though, you know, 150 years of managing forest in this country we should know enough by now, but they're still experimenting. And some things we learn are good, and some things we learn are bad. Different circumstances like the fire-prone communities and the wildland urban interface have prompted different approaches to managing forest, particularly for fuel reduction thinning and that sort of thing, which I do some of now. Back then it was just, hey, I found a dead tree, let's go cut it down for firewood. That was pretty much what it was, and we'd stack up firewood to the winter. I lived there by myself for about three years, and then a friend of the family, little Richard, came to stay up there, and he lived with me for about four or five years. He also went to Rogue Community College and completed the one-year forestry program, moved out up into Yeale Creek area with some friends, and really don't see much of him anymore. But all the family would come to visit me there, and we'd camp out. It was a one-bedroom cabin, so we stayed there while we built my dad's house in 1974, 75, 76. So there was a bunch of guys that would come up and stay, and we'd have... I had the bedroom because it was my cabin, and Pop had a cot up against the wall in what became later the dining area, and then we'd have, you know, cots. We had a couch, and we actually had so many people that at one point we had two hammocks hanging in the living room, so they'd have to climb into the hammocks. You can imagine a bunch of 20-something guys, what kind of humor went on with that sort of stuff. I can imagine. Yeah. This was in the 70s. 74, 5, and 6. Well, we were building dad's house. By that time, I had learned quite a bit about the property. I'd learned where the boundaries were. I had, in 74, I did logging operation on my own. Didn't make any money, but had a great experience. Learned how to drive a cat, and skid logs, and fell trees. Some of it I'd learned in the forestry school, and some of it I was still learning. But it was a good experience, and it was also a good experience for how things worked there, because I can go now and look at what we did in 1974, and I can see what that hillside looks like now. Quite honestly, it's ready to be approached again. It's not overgrown, but it could stand to be thinned. There's a lot of poles there, so we'll take out a lot of poles. We'd want to do a pole sale. But since my incarnation there, with my father and my brother and sister, we created Family Trust, and the property is the locus of the Family Trust. We all have to agree, and that's not easy. Family Trust is a great way to protect a piece of property. It is not the ideal way for management. I'm the one that does most of the work, and I'm the one that has the least money. You can see it makes life difficult sometimes. But we did well in the 70s. I went to school, and I worked, and I even sold firewood for a while. In those days, it was easy to get along with neighbors, which were predominantly... Industry was Boise Cascade in those days, and BLM. And unfortunately, BLM had a section of land between... We had two parcels. One was where the houses were. It was 212 acres. There's another parcel, 160 acres. There's never been anything up there since the original homesteader lived up there, and he built a rough cabin, added onto it, married an Indian woman, built a real house. A month later, the real house burnt down. Built another real house. Two months later, it burnt down. He walked down the road and sold the property to my great-grandfather for 100 bucks. 160 acres. So we don't do anything up there. There is a spring pond up there, and we've gone up there to get firewood. We've removed some madrone burrows, which is very lucrative sale if you get the right operator to take them out. But we don't do anything up there. However, between the lower parcel and the upper parcel is a strip of industrial land and also a chunk of BLM land. And there was an old mining claim on that BLM land. And I got sideways with those miners. They did not like me driving through their land. Well, it was BLM mining claim, and it was not a patented claim to go up to our upper place to get firewood. And they did not want to respect my gate down in the lower parcel, which they had to cross to get to their mining claim. Eventually, they brought in a subcontractor who dumped a lot of silt in the creek and caused me a lot of problems. And I went through BLM and the county and finally ended up with the Oregon Division of State Lands who shut them down and cited them for operating without a permit. And then they turned around and sued the Oregon Division of State Lands and me for $900,000 each. I was going to school in the GI Bill and 236 bucks a month was not going to pay off 900 grand. In the end, the suit was dropped. But it also helped me in some ways to learn about the property because I had to have an attorney. And they were suing in federal court and I got a good attorney and I told him, I said, don't send your secretary down to the courthouse to do research and bill me your hourly rate. You want research done, I will do it. I will research BLM, I will research the county, I will research the state, whatever you want. I was still a student. Research was like second nature. So I went and researched and I found out that they didn't have a leg to stand on and they eventually dropped the suit. And the mining claim was abandoned, thank God. It's still a mess. I even have a grant from BLM to clean it up if they ever finish their preliminary work. It's been two years. I'll go up and clean it up. But my first child was born there in 1979. My first wife and I lived in the cabin, raised him with the cold water tap and the facilities across the creek out back and the little tank shower that we had set up out the back door. During the winter we had a stand-up kerosene heater and we'd stick in the corner and I built the shower out of pallets. And the sides of it were screen and then during the winter we'd hang canvas which was actually old mail sacks, worn out old mail sacks that were canvas that we hung over the screen to keep it warm stick a kerosene heater in the corner and walk out there in the snow and we'd heat the water on the stove and I had my formula for how many, you know, the big tall kettles of hot water versus cold water to make it a nice warm shower. And that was how we lived for 12 years, you know. I lived in that cabin for 12 years like that. And then in 83 moved to Seattle. Came back in 99 by that time my father had died. My brother was living in the house we'd built for my father. The cabin had been rented out a couple of times was vacant at that time when I came back and I was going to put in a new home so I stayed in the cabin for another about five, six months and I remember cleaning the kitchen sink and looking up at the ceiling which was just planks that back in the 70s I'd put some one by twos on just to keep the dust and the dirt and the rat poop from falling down through the ceiling and I was looking up at that ceiling as I was scrubbing this thing and I'm going to live like this again. I'd been in Seattle for 16 years in a nice six bedroom house not a corner lot, you know. But it served its purpose for that time and then became storage. We got a new house. By that time I had divorced and remarried and picked up two stepchildren and my wife and I together had a child so there were four all together although the two oldest, her daughter and my son stayed in Seattle and are still in Seattle but the two youngest were with us and did not do much with the cabin in those days. Mostly it was used for storage. I had a lary in the back where during my time in Seattle someone had added a little bathroom back there and put in a 110 water heater and a small 20 gallon water heater but it was enough to take a shower. So I kind of used that area as a little shop but eventually in 2007 I'm looking in it. The cabin was not built to today's standards and the eaves always sagged a little bit. Well when I looked at it in 2007 now the ridge on the top was starting to sag and so I told my brother I was going to rebuild the cabin and he said why don't you just put a new roof on it? I said Joe that would be like giving breast implants to a fat woman and just make it sag all that much more. So in 2008 with a good friend of mine a fellow that I'd known since he was a kid he was 10 years old when I taught him how to use a chainsaw. So we rebuilt it as a pole barn structure. We kept the original 1910 front wall we kept the wall that had been added in the 1920s. We took completely down the section that had been added in the 30s because it was just a pole structure. We built it as a pole barn and now it is a cabin shop. People tell me it's the best man cave they've ever seen it's a great place. I continue to live and work on the land. In 2009 I went through the land steward program at the extension service. I now serve in the advisory council and as a mentor for that program try to apply those techniques and things like permaculture to the land. We're doing better for management but it's a big place it's a big responsibility we've got a lot of history and people are always interested when they come I point out the Chinese piles which are basically tailing piles that were the result of my great-grandfather who hydraulic mined something that we would never do today but that was what was done then and it took me a while to accept that. So are we running out of time? Yes. So is that enough? Okay.