My connection to the Forest Service started almost 100 years ago, with a love story and a camera.

In the early 1920s, two young adults, Charles and Sally, found each other while battling tuberculosis in a sanitarium in Chicago, Illinois. It took several years before they made it out into the world again, displaying an exhilarating lust for life. One day, while sitting in the uncommon sunlight of the season, Charles and Sally looked at each other and said, “Let’s move to California.” The dreary, frigid weather of Chicago was not meant for these two, and after a quick move they found themselves enamored with their new surroundings of San Francisco, California.

The ‘20s became the ‘30s, and millions of young Americans felt the full force of the Great Depression. Charles made the decision to join the Civilian Conservation Corps, part of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal Program, in hopes of continuing his life of adventure and exploration, camera in tow.

Once again, Charles and Sally packed up, moving northward to the Mendocino National Forest. Charles worked hard with the CCC, stringing metal phone lines station to station, building fire breaks, and even helping build lookout towers for the Forest Service. Picture after picture, history was being recorded through the viewfinder of Charles’s camera.

By the mid-1930s, Charles had taken the next step to join the Forest Service, cementing a career that celebrated his love of nature and wildlife. Within a short time, Charles became a fire lookout in the same towers that he helped build.  It wasn’t long before others took notice of Charles’s ability to spot fires and smoke long before anyone else could see them. From then on, Charles was known simply as “Smokey.”

Smokey had many adventures during his time in the Forest Service, from running fire crews throughout California and Arizona, to finding himself stranded in a ravine full of ravenous rattlesnakes (some of his adventures may have been told with a little extra flourish as the years went on). Even his wife, Sally, found herself on her own adventures, such as battling bats in dimly lit caves (one of her biggest fears).

Smokey’s photography skills and pictures continued to develop along with his career. By the ‘60s, he had found another hobby to go along with photography—woodworking. To this day, some of the offices in the Mendocino have his signs on display.

Smokey and Sally lived a long, romantic life, filled with adventures and fantastic stories. Their little family grew and generations later, they welcomed their grandson’s wife and daughter (me) into their family.

Like Smokey, I picked up a camera early on. For years, I traveled around as a professional photographer. Then, last year, sitting outside in the Alabama sunlight, my partner looked at me and said, “Let’s move to California.” Like Smokey and Sally, we packed up and headed to the Mendocino National Forest.

Today, I can say I’m home, in the same forest as my great-grandfather. My hands can touch the very signs he tooled and carved. The view from my camera isn’t so different from what he saw. Going through his many photos, I can see the people he’s met along the way, the places he has been, and I can even find those same places and stand in the same spot as he once did. Maybe my boots continue to tread the same paths that he took.

Together, we’ve managed to document not just our lives, but the beauty of our national forests. Through the Forest Service, I proudly continue the photographic legacy of my Smokey.