Karen Plant Profile April 9, 2008
They never found the hard hat he wore that day.
His family figures the hat was pounded deep into the ground by the rolling skidder tractor somewhere along the mountainside.
Jeff Erickson, 25 at the time, was logging up Bear Creek near Lolo the Tuesday after Memorial Day in 2000. No one witnessed the accident. And Erickson, who suffered a traumatic brain injury, recalls little up until six-months before the accident.
On a spring day in Missoula, nearly eight years later, a lean, fast-moving Erickson blasts water on the hood of a maroon F250 Ford pickup. He flashes a quick smile from beneath a black, red-flamed baseball cap. He wears a short-sleeved plain gray T-shirt. His forearms and elbows are peeling. Enveloped in a cloud of mist, he moves to the 20th truck in a line of 21. He quickly shoots the last two rigs clean before confidently striding across Bitterroot Motor's lot to attack a row of dusty Expeditions.
The day he'll never remember is a day others will never forget.
Although sawyers were downing trees just around the ridge up Bear Creek that Tuesday, they heard nothing over the drowning buzz of their chainsaws as Erickson's 19,000 pound tractor tumbled 300 yards down the mountain.
No one will ever know exactly what happened that day, but Erickson’s wife of 13 years still envisions the events. “It looked like he had logs in his grapple and he was on his way down,” Marcia Erickson said.
The grapple is the rear part of the skidder. Jeff was gathering fallen logs with the skidder’s huge claw-like extensions, and then driving down the winding road and depositing them along the roadside for a logging truck to haul away.
“It looked like he dropped down off the road,” she said. “He must have gotten on another log with the tire, and it kind of slipped and slid and made him start rolling. He rolled and flipped and flew all the way down the mountain.”
Along the way, the skidder tore out a full-grown tree and severed the top of another tree 30 feet up.
“So he was catching 30 feet of air,” she said. “There were big huge craters in the ground from where the skidder landed and tore the ground up.”
The Ericksons' lives seem to center around mountainside events. The two spent their first date at Discovery Mountain. “She knew I couldn’t turn down skiing,” Jeff Erickson said.
The couple met in 1990 at Hellgate High School.
“I kept stealing gum out of his locker. I finally asked him out on a date,” Marcia Erickson said.
He admits to being a daredevil. Photos show him flying mid-air in a perfect skier’s crouch while jumping from a 30-foot-high crevice, competing in a pole-climbing logger event, topping a tree over 100 feet up and lying almost horizontal as he circles a lake on a wave runner.
Jeff started helping Marcia’s family log their 60 acres up Ashby creek the summer before his senior year in 1993.
A flunking grade in English pushed him to drop out the following fall semester. While suspended from school for three days for failing to turn in an assignment, Jeff logged with his buddy and earned $150 a day.
“So Friday, we quit early. I turned my books in and quit school,” he said. Within two weeks Jeff passed his GED.
The couple married in July 1994. Their daughter, Kelli, was born later that year.
In 1996, they went into partnership with Marcia’s parents and started A&E Logging, subcontracting for Plum Creek Timber Co. mostly.
By 1999, the couple was ready to start their own logging company and planned to do so at the completion of the Bear Creek job.
“We were about three to four days to completing the job,” Marcia Erickson said.
But on the morning of May 30, 2000, Marcia’s dad found Jeff slouched unconscious in the skidder cab shortly after 10 a.m. “My dad broke his leg rolling the CAT the year before,” she said, and he had spent the morning at a follow-up doctor's appointment.
“He came up after his appointment and found Jeff on the road inside the skidder. Three tires were popped,” she said.
The only thing that stopped the skidder from rolling farther was the six-foot-tall log “deck” of piled logs that Jeff had placed along the road for the logging trucks to pick up.
“If that log deck would not have been there, he would've kept on a-goin',” she said. “That’s about 1,000 feet down.”
Jeff’s head was smashed against the tractor’s crunched cage. He was still buckled in, his legs splayed out to the side. “The scarring on his head was in like a diamond shape from the cage,” she said. He suffered no broken bones.
“Dad had to stand on top of the log deck to get a cell phone signal,” she said. “He called me at work."
Then the paramedic called. Marcia said he told her, “Your husband was disoriented when we got there. He was mumbling stuff. He wasn’t making sense. We aren’t sure of his injuries so we put him into a drug-induced coma.”
A friend met Marcia at Community Bank in Missoula and drove her to Saint Patrick’s hospital. “While we were driving, I could hear the life-flight helicopter coming in,” she said.
Five hours later, hospital staff let Marcia see him.
His arm and shoulder were bruised, he wore a neck brace, and an internal cranial pressure gauge was inserted into his skull to measure and relieve the built up pressure from the trauma. Later, Jeff was fitted with a trachea and ventilator.
He remained comatose for three weeks. On June 26, he was moved to Community Hospital's rehabilitation center and remained there until July 28.
In rehab, Erickson figured a way to escape from the hospital bed without making the alarm underneath him sound.
“My brain was working somewhere,” he said with a grin. Eventually, his bed was covered with a tent to keep him in – a veil bed.
“He couldn’t walk at that point,” Marcia Erickson said. "He had to learn to walk all over again.”
And his memory was hit-or-miss.
In rehab, Jeff recognized Marcia and Kelli. He couldn’t recall the phone number he had used every day for the past few years, but he remembered his childhood phone number. He couldn't remember if he had showered that morning, but when Marcia brought in their miniature pinscher of six months, he shouted out "Scooby-doo" just as always.
Recalling those harrowing days doesn’t faze either one of them.
“We’ve talked about it so much, it’s nothing really now,” Marcia Erickson said.
Jeff thinks all things happen for a purpose but admits, “I haven’t figured it all out yet.”
In recent years, the logging industry has suffered major cuts, he said.
“If we had gone on in logging, who knows where we would be now.”
Well, now they spend most of their time running Credible Pressure, a pressure-wash business, and Big Sky Fun, a bungee trampoline business.
"We used to do a lot of fun things together. Now it's like we only work," Marcia Erickson said.
Fifty percent of marriages fail within 24 months after a serious injury, according to traumaticbraininjury.net.
Although Jeff’s recovery has been difficult, his relationship with Marcia is getting better, he said. But he seldom spends time with friends, and he struggles to relate with his teenage daughter.
When asked about those relationships, he said with a penetrating stare, "What friends?" and "Kelli who?" Kelli was only five when Jeff was restrained to the hospital bed for his own safety.
"After he came out of the coma, he kept saying to Kelli, 'come untie me.' We had to tell Kelli, 'Don't listen to daddy.’ Now it's still in her mind -- don't listen to daddy," Marcia Erickson said with a half-hearted laugh.
Jeff is a self-described hard-worker, but he will sit down and watch a television episode of the logging show Axmen.
"The producers didn't do a very good job though," he said. "They should come here and film some real logging."
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
"Enter the Strippers" - by Brienna Boydstun
Enter the Strippers(Personal Experience)
March 12, 2008
Breathe, I told myself as the girl behind the cage checked my ID to make sure I was really 21. I had no idea what I would encounter once I went through the big metal doors. I was a little excited to try something new, but mostly, at this moment, I was worried if I was dressed properly. I asked around all day but none of my friends could answer my question, “What does a girl wear to a strip club with female strippers?”
“Nothing too revealing,” was all the advice my fiancé Joe gave me. Finally at the last minute I decided on a brown tank-top and jeans. I let Joe and our friend, John, enter the Fox Club first so I could take one last calming breath.
The lights and the smell are what hit me first. As my stomach tried to adjust to the overwhelming stench of cigarette smoke I prayed I wouldn’t collapse from a seizure. Some of the lights pulsed with the music, others swung around like miniature spotlights, all of them repeatedly changed color. I looked at the floor while the boys decided where to sit.
“Let’s take it slow for her,” Joe told John.
They chose a table close enough to see the stage but far back enough so I could get use to the club. The thought “get use to what? I was raised by nudists,” crossed my mind as we took our seats.
The big leather chairs were surprisingly comfortable and soon my eyes adjusted enough so I could look around. I was shocked.
I expected to see a lot of naked, or at least topless, girls. I expected to see men receiving lap dances. I expected to see strippers trolling the club for men customers.
The only topless girl I saw was on stage surrounded by what looked like a Paul Bunyan convention. As I continued to look around for the expected strippers I found that I was not the only female onlooker.
There were at least six other women in the club who did not work there. In fact, it took me a few minutes to distinguish the female patrons from the dancers because the dancers, at the moment, were fully clothed. The distinguishing characteristic was the strippers clothes were more risqué or looked like pajamas.
Few dancers cruised the club looking for patrons. Before entering the club I was nervous the dancers might come over to see if someone from our group wanted a dance and that the boys might buy me one, but my nerves were apparently unwarranted. The strippers I saw seemed bored and more interested in talking with each other than earning money.
The only girl who approached us that night was a waitress who asked if we wanted something to drink. Because we only ordered water she ignored us for the rest of the night.
For a while we sat back in our chairs and watched the various strippers taking turns on stage. The stage had a pole in the middle of it and the wall behind it was covered by a huge mirror. Again my expectations were wrong. I thought I would see a girl sensually dancing around the pole, but what I saw instead made me want to laugh.
When the girls came out on stage they swung around the pole once or twice but then ignored it to go to the front of the stage and do what looked like a bad impression of a worm struggling to get back underground.
I couldn’t contain my laughter anymore when a girl who seemed so interested with herself came out on stage looking only into the mirror. She would form her hands into claws and then throw them onto the bar running along the mirror. She repeated this move all the way to the other end of the stage. Watching her do this all I could picture was a cat attacking its reflection in the mirror.
I started getting bored, but then someone finally started doing pole work. I was amazed at what she could do. The pole must have been a little over ten feet high but she climbed it upside-down. She made it look effortless but I could see it must take an amazing amount of strength and control. She would stop climbing every few feet to move her upper-body to the music in the sensual way I first thought the dancers would move.
When she reached the top she loosened her legs and let herself drop until she was halfway down. I winced when I heard the high pitch squeal from the skin of her thighs catching on the pole as she tightened them to stop herself. The crowd around stage continued their breathing and applauded once they saw she was alright and had meant to fall.
After the dancer’s performance I continued people-watching but grew bored once again because everyone else just sat around watching the strippers. There was an occasional lap dance but it seemed private and I felt compelled to look away.
The next thing I knew Joe was shaking my shoulder telling me it was time to go. After all my nerves and worrying, I had actually fallen asleep.
March 12, 2008
Breathe, I told myself as the girl behind the cage checked my ID to make sure I was really 21. I had no idea what I would encounter once I went through the big metal doors. I was a little excited to try something new, but mostly, at this moment, I was worried if I was dressed properly. I asked around all day but none of my friends could answer my question, “What does a girl wear to a strip club with female strippers?”
“Nothing too revealing,” was all the advice my fiancé Joe gave me. Finally at the last minute I decided on a brown tank-top and jeans. I let Joe and our friend, John, enter the Fox Club first so I could take one last calming breath.
The lights and the smell are what hit me first. As my stomach tried to adjust to the overwhelming stench of cigarette smoke I prayed I wouldn’t collapse from a seizure. Some of the lights pulsed with the music, others swung around like miniature spotlights, all of them repeatedly changed color. I looked at the floor while the boys decided where to sit.
“Let’s take it slow for her,” Joe told John.
They chose a table close enough to see the stage but far back enough so I could get use to the club. The thought “get use to what? I was raised by nudists,” crossed my mind as we took our seats.
The big leather chairs were surprisingly comfortable and soon my eyes adjusted enough so I could look around. I was shocked.
I expected to see a lot of naked, or at least topless, girls. I expected to see men receiving lap dances. I expected to see strippers trolling the club for men customers.
The only topless girl I saw was on stage surrounded by what looked like a Paul Bunyan convention. As I continued to look around for the expected strippers I found that I was not the only female onlooker.
There were at least six other women in the club who did not work there. In fact, it took me a few minutes to distinguish the female patrons from the dancers because the dancers, at the moment, were fully clothed. The distinguishing characteristic was the strippers clothes were more risqué or looked like pajamas.
Few dancers cruised the club looking for patrons. Before entering the club I was nervous the dancers might come over to see if someone from our group wanted a dance and that the boys might buy me one, but my nerves were apparently unwarranted. The strippers I saw seemed bored and more interested in talking with each other than earning money.
The only girl who approached us that night was a waitress who asked if we wanted something to drink. Because we only ordered water she ignored us for the rest of the night.
For a while we sat back in our chairs and watched the various strippers taking turns on stage. The stage had a pole in the middle of it and the wall behind it was covered by a huge mirror. Again my expectations were wrong. I thought I would see a girl sensually dancing around the pole, but what I saw instead made me want to laugh.
When the girls came out on stage they swung around the pole once or twice but then ignored it to go to the front of the stage and do what looked like a bad impression of a worm struggling to get back underground.
I couldn’t contain my laughter anymore when a girl who seemed so interested with herself came out on stage looking only into the mirror. She would form her hands into claws and then throw them onto the bar running along the mirror. She repeated this move all the way to the other end of the stage. Watching her do this all I could picture was a cat attacking its reflection in the mirror.
I started getting bored, but then someone finally started doing pole work. I was amazed at what she could do. The pole must have been a little over ten feet high but she climbed it upside-down. She made it look effortless but I could see it must take an amazing amount of strength and control. She would stop climbing every few feet to move her upper-body to the music in the sensual way I first thought the dancers would move.
When she reached the top she loosened her legs and let herself drop until she was halfway down. I winced when I heard the high pitch squeal from the skin of her thighs catching on the pole as she tightened them to stop herself. The crowd around stage continued their breathing and applauded once they saw she was alright and had meant to fall.
After the dancer’s performance I continued people-watching but grew bored once again because everyone else just sat around watching the strippers. There was an occasional lap dance but it seemed private and I felt compelled to look away.
The next thing I knew Joe was shaking my shoulder telling me it was time to go. After all my nerves and worrying, I had actually fallen asleep.
"Ashes to Jewelry" - Brienna Boydstun
(Trend story) Feb. 27, 2008
Amanda Kuzel keeps a necklace, passed down to her by her grandmother, safely stored away in her jewelry box. Hung on the delicate chain is a tiny gold nugget with a small diamond imbedded in its center. What makes this necklace so special is it is made from her deceased grandfather’s wedding ring, as well as the gold fillings from his teeth.
“I think it’s neat,” Kuzel said. “And it gives you something to hold on to from the people you lost.”
People have always looked for unique and creative ways to memorialize themselves or their loved ones when they pass: the pyramids, mausoleums, Graceland.
These days, the funeral business is booming with new ideas to honor loved ones who have died: Ashes to Portraits in Michigan will mix ashes with paint to make portraits of the deceased; Nadine Jarvis combines cremains with suet and birdseed to make birdfeeders; Eternal Reefs in Georgia adds cremains to cement which they mold and place underwater to make artificial coral reefs. Memorial jewelry is one of the more popular trends today. Like most trends, this one comes from the past and is popping up again with a new spin.
Memorial jewelry is jewelry that contains a lock of hair, a teaspoon of cremains, or even a shrunken thumb print or hand print. It can be as simple as a vial or locket, or as unique as a dragon, teddy bear, or a painted-glass pendent mixed with ashes. The jewelry is not always worn, as with Kuzel’s necklace, but is often placed in a display case.
According to Musselman Funeral Home and Cremation Services’ website, memorial jewelry, also called mourning jewelry, was around in pre-literate societies but didn’t hit its peak until the Victorian era. Hair was one of the most widely used materials and was placed in rings or processed to make them into chains for necklaces, bracelets and watches. Before he died, George Washington even ordered five mourning rings to be made with locks of his hair.
As society focused less on death, memorial jewelry’s popularity began to fade until recently. Wayne Benson, a funeral director at Garden City Funeral Home and Crematory in Missoula, suggests this might be because of the growing number of cremations.
The number of cremations in America has grown from 24.8 percent in 1999 to 30.88 percent in 2004, according to a survey by the Cremation Association of North America. The association predicts the number will continue to grow.
A different survey done by the CANA said 79 percent of people cremated in 2005 did not have a funeral service.
“Cremation is a way to keep the body until the whole family can get together to pay their respects,” Benson said.
Once cremated however, more than one family member might want to keep some of the remains. The second survey from the CANA also cites 56.6 percent of people choose to distribute remains with small keepsake urns but jewelry comes in second place at 25.9 percent. At least 1,000 sites sell memorial jewelry, according to a recent Google search.
“People feel they want to memorialize their loved ones in a different and personal way,” Benson said.
Chantz Thilmony, a twenty-one year old University of Montana English major, agrees, “The grieving process is kind of a personal thing and if that helps someone out, why not?”
Not every one is a fan of the growing trend however.
“I think there is something to be said for keeping someone near and dear next to your heart,” said 20-year-old Andrew Jones who is majoring in women’s and gender studies at UM. “But I personally think you can keep someone closer in your heart.”
Thirty-four-year-old Bonnie Kelley agrees, “I think the memory of somebody isn’t in material items, even biological ones.”
Not all religions are thrilled with the idea either. Some branches of Christianity shy away from cremation in general, and a few Catholic dioceses condemn the practice of memorial jewelry, or any practice which separates the ashes, because they believe the ashes should be kept together.
What other people think does not matter to Kuzel though, “It’s their own opinion,” she said. “It (the necklace) is something my family values.”
Kuzel keeps the necklace in her jewelry box where she can see it every time she opens it because she is afraid she might lose it.
“I was pretty honored (to receive the necklace) since my grandmother does have other grandkids and it made me feel a special connection to my grandfather,” Kuzel said. “It’s something I’d want to pass on to my kids.”
Amanda Kuzel keeps a necklace, passed down to her by her grandmother, safely stored away in her jewelry box. Hung on the delicate chain is a tiny gold nugget with a small diamond imbedded in its center. What makes this necklace so special is it is made from her deceased grandfather’s wedding ring, as well as the gold fillings from his teeth.
“I think it’s neat,” Kuzel said. “And it gives you something to hold on to from the people you lost.”
People have always looked for unique and creative ways to memorialize themselves or their loved ones when they pass: the pyramids, mausoleums, Graceland.
These days, the funeral business is booming with new ideas to honor loved ones who have died: Ashes to Portraits in Michigan will mix ashes with paint to make portraits of the deceased; Nadine Jarvis combines cremains with suet and birdseed to make birdfeeders; Eternal Reefs in Georgia adds cremains to cement which they mold and place underwater to make artificial coral reefs. Memorial jewelry is one of the more popular trends today. Like most trends, this one comes from the past and is popping up again with a new spin.
Memorial jewelry is jewelry that contains a lock of hair, a teaspoon of cremains, or even a shrunken thumb print or hand print. It can be as simple as a vial or locket, or as unique as a dragon, teddy bear, or a painted-glass pendent mixed with ashes. The jewelry is not always worn, as with Kuzel’s necklace, but is often placed in a display case.
According to Musselman Funeral Home and Cremation Services’ website, memorial jewelry, also called mourning jewelry, was around in pre-literate societies but didn’t hit its peak until the Victorian era. Hair was one of the most widely used materials and was placed in rings or processed to make them into chains for necklaces, bracelets and watches. Before he died, George Washington even ordered five mourning rings to be made with locks of his hair.
As society focused less on death, memorial jewelry’s popularity began to fade until recently. Wayne Benson, a funeral director at Garden City Funeral Home and Crematory in Missoula, suggests this might be because of the growing number of cremations.
The number of cremations in America has grown from 24.8 percent in 1999 to 30.88 percent in 2004, according to a survey by the Cremation Association of North America. The association predicts the number will continue to grow.
A different survey done by the CANA said 79 percent of people cremated in 2005 did not have a funeral service.
“Cremation is a way to keep the body until the whole family can get together to pay their respects,” Benson said.
Once cremated however, more than one family member might want to keep some of the remains. The second survey from the CANA also cites 56.6 percent of people choose to distribute remains with small keepsake urns but jewelry comes in second place at 25.9 percent. At least 1,000 sites sell memorial jewelry, according to a recent Google search.
“People feel they want to memorialize their loved ones in a different and personal way,” Benson said.
Chantz Thilmony, a twenty-one year old University of Montana English major, agrees, “The grieving process is kind of a personal thing and if that helps someone out, why not?”
Not every one is a fan of the growing trend however.
“I think there is something to be said for keeping someone near and dear next to your heart,” said 20-year-old Andrew Jones who is majoring in women’s and gender studies at UM. “But I personally think you can keep someone closer in your heart.”
Thirty-four-year-old Bonnie Kelley agrees, “I think the memory of somebody isn’t in material items, even biological ones.”
Not all religions are thrilled with the idea either. Some branches of Christianity shy away from cremation in general, and a few Catholic dioceses condemn the practice of memorial jewelry, or any practice which separates the ashes, because they believe the ashes should be kept together.
What other people think does not matter to Kuzel though, “It’s their own opinion,” she said. “It (the necklace) is something my family values.”
Kuzel keeps the necklace in her jewelry box where she can see it every time she opens it because she is afraid she might lose it.
“I was pretty honored (to receive the necklace) since my grandmother does have other grandkids and it made me feel a special connection to my grandfather,” Kuzel said. “It’s something I’d want to pass on to my kids.”
"Pi Day" - by Jeff Osteen
Jeff Osteen
BRIGHT STORY – Pi Day
What better way to celebrate one of the worlds most important mathematical constants than by baking fresh and delicious, fruit-filled pastries.
Pi Day is a commemoration of the mathematical ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter, celebrated every March 14, since 1988.
This year will be the twentieth annual Pi Day, giving reason for many University of Montana students to make merry.
“It’s really my favorite holiday,” said Jed Nussbaum, a sophomore at UM.
“We’re going to have a BYOP party,” Nussbaum said. “Bring your own pie.”
Pi Day, which first was celebrated at the San Francisco Exploratorium in 1988, by staff and public marching in a circle and eating pies. The holiday has since grown into a nationwide festivity.
“We didn’t actually plan for it, but we sold twice the amount of pies that we normally sell,” said Marco Littig, a co-owner of Bernice’s Bakery in Missoula.
Littig said that he wishes they would have known about the holiday but it worked out well nonetheless.
Gorging oneself with pie isn’t the only way to mark the occasion. Many math aficionados take to memorizing as many digits of the infinite number as possible.
“I can only get it to about twenty digits,” said Tara Ferrell, a UM sophomore.
“But I haven’t been practicing for very long,” said Ferrell.
Daniel Tammet recited the longest string of digits from memory on Pi Day in 2004 by correctly counting through 22,514 numbers.
According to Tammet at an appearance on The Late Show With David Letterman in 2005, it took him only a few weeks to learn the number and over five hours to recite.
“It’s just a laid-back, fun type of holiday,” Ferrell said.
She said that she plans on making a chocolate cream pie as well as a lemon meringue pie, her favorite, to celebrate the occasion.
“It’s not like you need an excuse to eat pie,” Ferrell said. “It’s just a fun, nerdy time to celebrate.”
BRIGHT STORY – Pi Day
What better way to celebrate one of the worlds most important mathematical constants than by baking fresh and delicious, fruit-filled pastries.
Pi Day is a commemoration of the mathematical ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter, celebrated every March 14, since 1988.
This year will be the twentieth annual Pi Day, giving reason for many University of Montana students to make merry.
“It’s really my favorite holiday,” said Jed Nussbaum, a sophomore at UM.
“We’re going to have a BYOP party,” Nussbaum said. “Bring your own pie.”
Pi Day, which first was celebrated at the San Francisco Exploratorium in 1988, by staff and public marching in a circle and eating pies. The holiday has since grown into a nationwide festivity.
“We didn’t actually plan for it, but we sold twice the amount of pies that we normally sell,” said Marco Littig, a co-owner of Bernice’s Bakery in Missoula.
Littig said that he wishes they would have known about the holiday but it worked out well nonetheless.
Gorging oneself with pie isn’t the only way to mark the occasion. Many math aficionados take to memorizing as many digits of the infinite number as possible.
“I can only get it to about twenty digits,” said Tara Ferrell, a UM sophomore.
“But I haven’t been practicing for very long,” said Ferrell.
Daniel Tammet recited the longest string of digits from memory on Pi Day in 2004 by correctly counting through 22,514 numbers.
According to Tammet at an appearance on The Late Show With David Letterman in 2005, it took him only a few weeks to learn the number and over five hours to recite.
“It’s just a laid-back, fun type of holiday,” Ferrell said.
She said that she plans on making a chocolate cream pie as well as a lemon meringue pie, her favorite, to celebrate the occasion.
“It’s not like you need an excuse to eat pie,” Ferrell said. “It’s just a fun, nerdy time to celebrate.”
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