This essays is one of four written by alumni of the University of Minnesota Forestry Class of 1957 alumni and a dean of the former UMN College of Natural Resources (CNR), which became the College of Food, Agricultural, and Natural Resource Sciences (CFANS) in 2006. To learn more about this project and to access the other essays, return to the Class of '57 Essays web page.
No edits have been made to the original content; it is published as it was written.
Essay by Richard (Dick) Manly
Written c. 2021
Upon graduate in 1953 from Clifton High School in Clifton, New Jersey, I enrolled at the University of Minnesota as a pre-veterinarian student. After a short time, I discovered that this was not my calling. I could not compete with people who spent much of their early lives in 4-H and FFA. Much to my parent's chagrin, I decided to transfer into the School of Forestry, and magically, my grades improved. This was probably one of the best decisions that i made in my lifetime. The following is a summary of the career opportunities that my Degree in Forest Management afforded me.
I started by professional career working for the State of Minnesota in Moose Lake, with the title of Assistant Area Forester. My primary duties consisted of consulting with private landowners on the management of their properties using sound conservation practices. Within six months, I received my draft notice and had to report for the required physical. Again, it was decision-making time; I decided that it would be best to enlist in the US Army Counterintelligence Corp for three years.
I was accepted into the Corp and after basic training was stationed at the Corp Headquarters in Baltimore, Maryland. Here I went through one of the most intensive schools in my life. Upon completion, I was assigned to Fort Riley in Kansas. Following that, I was sent to spend more than a year in Korea, with the bulk of my time spent interrogating North Korean spies.
As a special agent, I was assigned a 1957 unmarked Chevy for my personal vehicle. President Eisenhower was scheduled to visit Seoul to make a major speech in the center of the city. Another special agent, Larry Linn, was assigned to escort one of the President's secret service agents around Seoul to check out all possible places that could be used to ambush the President. One spot was the ancient Duc Su Palace. Some monks allowed them in, and after their inspection, they headed for the entry gate, to find it closed and locked. Meanwhile, a crowd of thousands were gathering to hear the President. It took over an hour for the agents to pick the ancient lock, where upon they found the crowd dispersing. They started looking for my car, which they discovered behind a mound of people with its roof, hood, and trunk caved in. My car was almost a total wreck; it was close to a month before I got a replacement.
The day I returned from Korea, I was called out on a fire just south of Brainerd. Ted Olson, an old-school forest ranger, picked me up. It was about 7:30 p.m. when we arrived at the boundary of the fire. Ted had us flank the fire from two directions. In about two hours, we had the fire under control. But I found out one important fact about firefighting: right after the last flame is out, it became totally dark and I didn't have a flashlight on me! I stared calling Ted again and again. Finally, he found me. On the way back to the station, he suggested that the U of M School of Forestry include a course that prepared us "to deal with darkness in the woods."
Shortly thereafter, the State of Minnesota, Division of Forestry assigned me to the Brainer, Minnesota office with the same work that I had been doing in Moose Lake. I enjoyed working with private landowners to a point that I was awarded "Minnesota Forester of the Year" in 1965.
In 1966, I was offered and accepted the job of Executive Director of Keep Minnesota Green, a private nonprofit organization sponsored principally by the Minnesota Forest Industries.
Then, in 1967, Northern States Power Company asked if I would take on the job of the company's first "Environmental Forester," with responsibility for the thousands of acres they owned along the St. Croix River. At this point, the St. Croix River was a prime candidate for "Wild and Scenic" status. My main job would be to help coordinate the transfer of company lands to the US Park Service and the States of Minnesota and Wisconsin. It was interesting to see the difference between the functioning of private industry and bureaucrats when the NSP vice president, who chaired the monthly meetings, stated that each agency must show up on time with their assignments complete or not show up at all. Everyone showed up with their missions completed and the St. Croix River became a Wild an Scenic River in record time.
Shortly after the Wild and Scenic River negotiations were completed, I noticed an ad in my Society of American Foresters magazine for a Professional Forester to head up the Audubon's National Nature Center Planning Division. I made it a practice to keep my resume up-to-date and was invited to the Audubon's annual convention in St. Louis, Missouri. Long story short, I liked what I saw and they felt the same. I was with the Society for over nine years and our team of eight staff completed almost 1,000 consultations and formal plans for nature centers all over the world. In addition, I also lead Nature trips to Scotland and Nepal.
In 1979, Audubon commissioned an outside efficiency study. The results were drastic, with seven divisions recommended for closure – including my Nature Center Planning Division. Naturally, we all panicked until I suggested the following solution. Upon formal notice of our closing, I went across the street into Oliver's Bar and ordered three dry Manhattans with an olive, a black felt pen, and a batch of bar napkins. My salary at that time was $26,000 annually. They offered me &18,000 and I had to work out of Corkscrew Swamp in Florida. Both of these options were unacceptable. Then I wondered what it would cost the Society to fully fund a person drawing $18,000 a year. My estimate came out to $41,000 with no benefits. I quickly checked with the Business Manager and Vice President and I was correct. I then proposed that I resign and form my own company and contract back to the Society and not move to Florida. My proposal was accepted, thus, LANDATA ENTERPRISES was born. After my four-year contract was complete, I was once again faced with a vague future. I eventually sold my house for a huge profit, packed my bags, and moved back to Minnesota, where I owned forty acres on a small lake.
I loaded my 1979 Ford 150 and trailer with my possessions, my oldest son Greg, and the new pup, "Huckleberry," and headed for Minnesota. Once we reached the general location of the property, we had to break trail to Mud Lake and set up a storage and sleeping tent. We laid out the one-half mile to the home site and began the chore of clearing brush and trees. For the next five months, we devoted our efforts to finding local contractors to assist us in the monumental job. Then the cold weather moved in and my son moved out, which left Huckleberry and me to cope with the cold and loneliness. Finally, spring returned and construction on the building could continue in earnest. In my free time, I began wood carving again. One lady who visited my home purchased a carving of a chickadee, but she wanted it mounted on a different piece of driftwood. The following week she came back with a friend named Anne. Anne was a bit suspicious about who would live in such an unfinished place, but once we met, she didn't leave for 10 hours. We continued contact for almost two years before we decided to marry.
Anne and I discovered that we both would like to own and operate a Bed and Breakfast, so doubling the size of the original house started. For nine years, we operated the B&B and then burnt out. I officially retired and turned my time to competitive wood carving, winning a basketful of trophies. After that, I decided to carve for pleasure and rarely sold any of the pieces. My new father-in-law started inviting me to join him in fishing all over the world and I began photographing, measuring, and carving replicas of the fish that I caught. We fished in Belize, Florida, most of the western states, Canada, Alaska (6 times), and Kamchatka, Russia.
In 2002, Bot Herbst organized a 50th year forestry class reunion. Following that, we took repeated trips together to fish in Canada and to hunt in Nebraska. The timing couldn't have worked out better, because my father-in-law was then in his mid-80s and was slowing down. At this writing, I am 87 and slowing down myself, and the COVID has us tucked away like hermits.
About the author: Richard (Dick) Manly was awarded Minnesota Forester of the Year in 1965 and is a former director of the National Audubon Society.