LETTERS: 4.3.13

By on April 2, 2013

Appalled by trapping? Let these folks know

Jake Nichols created quite a buzz with his revealing two-part series “Coyote Ugly” [JH Weekly; March 13 and 20, 2013] exposing the deadly work of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Wildlife Services division. A number of readers asked me who they could talk to, how they could stop this barbaric and senseless killing of OUR wildlife on OUR public lands and paid in part with OUR tax dollars.

The State Director of Wildlife Services in Wyoming is Rod Krischke. He can be reached at rodney.f.krischke@ahpis.usda.gov or by telephone at 1-866-487-3297 or (307) 261-5336. His office is at 6731 Coal Rd., Casper, Wyoming. The mailing address is: PO Box 59, Casper WY  82602

Although the Wyoming Game and Fish Department has little to do with the work of Wildlife Services, it seems like they too should hear how citizens feel about the Federal agency killing Wyoming wildlife. The Director of the Wyoming Game and Fish Department is Scott Talbott. He can be reached at: Scott Talbott, Director, Wyoming Game and Fish Dept., 5400 Bishop Boulevard, Cheyenne, WY, 82006 (307) 777-4600. Locally, you can speak with Tim Fuchs, Regional Supervisor, Wyoming Game and Fish, PO Box 67, Jackson, WY, 83001, (307) 733 2321.

The Wyoming State Legislature controls a lot of what the Game and Fish can do, consequently it is always good to be in touch with our local state representatives:

• Sen. Leland Christensen:  Leland.Christensen@wyoleg.gov, Hm: (307) 353 8204

• Rep. Keith Gingery: Keith.Gingery@wyoleg.gov,  Hm: (307) 734 5624

• Rep. Ruth Ann Petroff: Ruth.Petroff@wyoleg.gov,  Wk: (307) 734 9446

I also urge friends to stay in touch with Project Coyote, the Predator Defense Institute and Defenders of Wildlife. Three good organizations that are easily Googled.

And please, whenever contacting these folks be concise, remain calm and always be courteous.

— Franz Camenzind, Jackson


The magic of baseball

Once again, after a long winter’s hibernation, it is the anxiously awaited time for baseball. Baseball. That marvelous game of sweat, leather and wood played upon emerald fields of green grass beneath azure skies illuminated by the brightness and warmth of our long absent sun.

Baseball. The time when little boys play this game in city streets, country fields, sandlots and back yards. All with the fantasy that it is they whom are on the pitcher’s mound with ball in hand shaking off the finger signs of the catcher or at the plate with the adrenalized anticipation of what pitch may be coming. Dire decisions to be made in the bottom of the ninth of the seventh game of the World Series in Dodger Stadium, Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park or whatever arena in which this little boy’s dreams may take him.

I, along with countless others, past, present, and future, have been one of these little boys. I had learned this passion from my dear father who had learned it from his own dad. Therefore, that baton of baseball is continuously passed on which in turn becomes an unbreakable bond from generation to generation.

That is the beauty of this particular game. That is the magic of baseball.

—  Patrik Troiani,  Jacksonian


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