As a young child, my father would take my sister and me to Multnomah Falls to hike, play and swim. It’s where I first fell in love with nature. We would drive East from our home in Portland, Ore. into the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area then follow the trail that winds to a twin-tiered cascade pouring down basalt cliffs.
I still remember the moment when the trees would open and we’d step into the roar of water, the air alive with mist, and sunlight glinting through the evergreens. Standing there, in the shadows of the ancient evergreen giants, I felt both small — aware of how immense nature really is — and blessed to experience it.
I always thought I’d return there again with my three sons — to show them the place where my love of forests and nature began. But in 2017, before I had the chance, the Eagle Creek Fire swept through the Columbia River Gorge, burning nearly 50,000 acres, closing trails and coming perilously close to Multnomah Falls and its historic lodge.
Photo Credit: King of Hearts / Wikimedia Commons
As I stood at the incident command center, I found myself gazing up at the familiar cliffs of my childhood, heartbroken by what I was witnessing — water cascading from our air assets as fire consumed the ancient evergreen giants that have captivated me since I was a child. Standing where I had stood 30 years before, looking up at the charred, blackened sticks, I now felt both loss — that in my sons’ lifetime they would never experience the forests of my childhood — and determination to fight to restore our forests and protect our communities.
That moment taught me lessons that have guided my work ever since. The permanence I once believed in gave way to a new truth: Even our ancient, majestic places are vulnerable. What we assume will always be there can vanish in a single season of drought, wind and fire, and we must work at the pace and scale of wildfire if we are going to save our forests. It also taught me the power of people coming together. I witnessed in the days, months and years to follow people from every walk of life coming together to fight fire and then heal what had burned — volunteers planting seedlings, youth rebuilding trails, and local businesses feeding firefighters and funding restoration.
Photo Credit: U.S. Forest Service / Wikimedia Commons
Photo Credit: U.S. Forest Service / Wikimedia Commons
“It was a reminder that the strength of our forests doesn’t live in the trees alone, but in the people who rise to care for them.”
Before joining American Forests, I served as Washington State’s Commissioner of Public Lands, leading the Department of Natural Resources through some of the most dangerous wildfire seasons in our state’s history. Each year, summer conditions came earlier, bringing record-breaking heat and annual drought, hundreds of thousands of acres burned, and communities evacuated as flames moved faster and burned hotter than ever before. Over the years, I saw families lose everything and firefighters risk everything with hundreds of homes and hundreds of thousands of acres of forests turned to ash in just days.
Photo Credit: Washington State Department of Natural Resources
Out of the lessons of the Eagle Creek Fire, we built resilience — bringing people together from all walks of life, building a bipartisan coalition, transforming the way we fight wildfires, pioneering the state’s first ever forest-health plan, launching community and forest resilience programs, and restoring over 1 million acres of forests to reduce catastrophic wildfires to protect our lands, waters and communities. From securing a $500 million investment in wildfire response, forest restoration and community resilience to conserving over 250,00 acres of forests lands, I learned that when communities — Tribal, rural, urban, business and conservation — come together, we can transform crisis into common purpose. We can stop fighting over our forests and start fighting for them.
That same spirit of unity and urgency is what drew me to American Forests.
For 150 years, this organization has been a trusted voice for forests — from the birth of the U.S. Forest Service to the rise of urban forestry and Tree Equity in America’s cities to the restoration and reforestation of millions of acres of forests in states across America. My vision is to build on that legacy by strengthening the bond between people and the forests that sustain them.
We will work at the state and federal level implementing innovative policies, developing science-based solutions, and getting our hands and boots dirty to make our forests more resilient, our communities safer and our economies stronger. We will connect urban and wild landscapes, rural and Tribal voices, and conservation and industry because the future of forests is not just ecological — it is social, economical and moral. We will set big, bold goals and implement strategic landscape plans for the future of our forests and communities, because our forests and communities deserve and need nothing less. And just as importantly, we will renew a shared spirit of stewardship, because caring for the health of forests and communities is one in the same.
Each of us has a place that roots us — a place that reminds us of what’s worth protecting. For me, it’s Multnomah Falls: enduring, scarred and still magnificent. For you, it might be a mountain trail, a neighborhood park or a single tree outside your window. Wherever that place is, I hope you’ll draw strength from it, as I do, and join us in protecting the forests that protect us all.
Together, we can carry forward 150 years of progress and build a future where forests, and the communities they sustain, thrive for generations to come.
