This memorial website was created in memory of our friend, James Wilson. He will be missed. We are grateful for our time with him and for the legacy he left.
Celebration of Life:
Date: Sunday, August 2, 4 pm - 8 pm
Place: Mono Lake County Park
More information can be found on the "His Life" tab above.
Tributes
Leave a tributeHappy 75th!
Thinking about you today; fondly missing your crazy side.
Do you remember the free-for-all Frisbee gun battles at the Ski Hut? You and Peter Noone sometimes fought it out at point blank range. Good thing you wore glasses!
I was frequently caught in the cross fire back in the ski binding shop!
I'll bet someone is still finding those little disks in the corners.
Tom Andrews, now living in Pagosa Springs, CO
♪ღ♪*•.¸¸¸.•*¨¨*•.¸¸¸.•*•♪ღ♪¸.•*¨¨*•.¸¸,,¸.•*•♪ღ♪•*♪!! H░A░P░P░Y░ B░I░R░T░H░D░A░Y !!♪ღ♪*•♪ღ♪*•.¸¸¸.•*¨¨*•.¸¸¸.•*•♪¸.•*¨¨*•.¸¸¸.•*•♪ღ♪••*•♪*¨*•
Can’t begin to describe the missing I feel for both you and Peter
Hope you and PKN are reunited and soaring with the birds
We were tickled to have a visit From Kay this April. You and she each picked a winner. Miss your humor and your take on the world.
You are still very much missed!
I grew up in the San Fernando Valley; I remember the observatory on Mount Wilson. In my mind's eye James is somewhere at a higher elevation, with a farther seeing eye, and with Johannes observing and basking in this wonderful universe.
Hope you are having a great ride! Miss you.
In James' Garden
I bent down to pluck a weed
Gently nudging aside the watermelon vine
Thinking of the hand that planted the seed
Seeing the smile that presented to friends
Succulent melons at Midsummer feasts.
Might there be his footprint here
To treasure among the vines and interlopers?
That footprint I so often saw
On days and miles of mountain meanders
As I was always behind you.
So many of us
Behind you on so many things.
How many times DID
Your foot fall upon a wild footless place?
Crashing through chigger infested rain forest
In search of Three-wattled Bellbirds.
Climbing as Dan said, "Some obscure pinnacle."
Thrashing through "high hat willows," Swiss army knife poised.
Wading thigh high Secret Creeks
Pygmy Kingfishers laughing overhead.
Walking impassioned and measured the mire of meetings
Finding a path through opposing minds.
Passing through many souls leaving only good effects.
What wild creature continues to live because of your care?
What bird continues to fly having been seen by your eye?
Oh, my kingdom for a map of your footprints
Lit with your delight as if you soaked up
The energy of the planet through your feet
Up through your veins to inspire your heart
And your marvelous mind! That consciousness
That cared and inspired actions that made a difference.
You had the uncanny ability
To draw others to unwonted connections
With broader effect than acting alone.
If only we could see the footprints you
Left on minds and hearts.
My thoughts have wound and weeded me through the
Melons and on to the squash and the beans.
No wonder the lovely garden has weeds -
You were busy tending the planet whole.
Dad
Go. Go on joyfully round the next curve.
For we will till the garden, pick melons,
Cradle the first ripe tomato,
Thrill at every green tendril and shoot.
Dad, go on joyfully over the summit.
We will walk amongst the piñon and juniper,
Amongst the granite boulders and scree,
We will seek out expanses of ocean and desert,
Under skies both sun baked and stormy.
We will look for bears, squirrels, snakes,
Lizards skittering in the dust.
And of course, we will watch for the dusky winged,
Bright eyed flickering of birds.
We will do all this and feel awe, as you do.
Dad, I’m not saying there isn’t sadness in our hearts.
My hands and feet feel so heavy these days,
It’s as if they are rooted in the earth.
But we will eat good bread and good cheese,
Talk with our neighbors,
Dance,
Drink tea and wine,
Turn anger and sadness into energy,
Be kind,
Read books whenever possible,
And of course love family and friends.
So dad, go on joyfully through the next grove.
That perfect view is waiting.
You know the one.
With a big slab of granite to warm your back,
The Sierras as far as you can see,
And just the sound of the wind through the trees.
So go on dad. Go on joyfully round that next curve.
James lived life with gusto; fighting for what he saw was worth fighting for, reasonably and with respect; loving, always loving – Kay, Rosanne, Bayard, and Ansel – his family and his friends, wilderness and all things wild, the land, open spaces, his community, creatures large and small… James was willing to work hard for his vision of progress – a good place to live, providing support when he could and inspiration for those sharing that vision.
He’s gone – passed on – merged back into the great mystery. I’ll miss him so – always someone willing to lend a hand or lead the way for a cause worth struggling for, but also with the good sense to take time away from those struggles for himself, his family & friends, for exploration and enjoyment, for the pure love of life.
James, knowing you was a blessing and an inspiration. I’ll miss you and wish you well in the boundless mystery awaiting us all.
My sincerest condolences to Kay, Rosanne, Bayard, and Ansel for your loss.
"James Wilson, whom I knew as friend and board member of the organization I used to work for, has left for the next adventure. He was a great man and one of the fittest nearly 70 year old guys I have ever met. His passing and hours of riding has given me reason and a chance to reflect. Life is short and nothing is certain. You can be here one day and gone the next. I have a bad habit of getting caught up in the small stuff, giving into stress too often, and putting off the fun for an over developed sense of obligation. James, although very hard working and an avid conservationist, loved a good hike, a good adventure, and a good time. He, and his memory, will remind those who knew him to get out and get after it, to work hard but also have a good time. Take a minute to soak in the beauty of the world and revel in the moment of whatever you are doing. Just like pushing my bike through deep sand under the desert sun, sometimes life sucks, but when you step back it is all just part of the big picture that is life in general. Enjoy every moment, make it your own, live it to the fullest, and go down fighting and laughing. James, this one is for you man. You were a huge influence on everyone you knew me included and I will try to live more fully thanks to you and your example. Until the next time man, journey well."
Farewell James. See you on the otherside my friend. You made life more full and were an example for all of us. We can only hope to live up to it. Thanks for everything.
We are just passing through.
Our purpose here is to observe, to learn,
to grow, to love…and then we return home.
(author unknown)
I have been thinking of you, James, every day since I got the news of your stroke and subsequently the passing. I have burnt several Japanese incense to pray for your peaceful trip back to where you originally had come from. I have also lit small Japanese candles with summer flowers on them, with a sense of deep sorrow, but also with the gratitude that I was fortunate to know you in my life.
I first met you in your store in 1983, and got to know you, Kay and Roseanne better after you moved to the first floor of Smoke’s house on Willow Street. I always loved your quiet yet very profound statements. You have been and will be a special person in my life, who will bring the surrounding sense of peace, comfort and justice. Thank you, James, for sharing your life with us.
"While I feel we all would like the most "natural" public land, politics is the art of the possible, and we need to get the most for bighorn, collared lizards, and mayflies. So sometimes we are going to have to take half a loaf, hoping that there will be enough bread to feed the creatures. To mix up my metaphors to the point of confusion perhaps."
To at once be funny and deep in his thoughts was a hallmark of James Wilson. He was calm and kind, self-effacing and generous, delighted in the magic of nature and observing the glory and beauty around him. At times I forget, and then it hits me, and I just shake my head again in disbelief. Is he really gone? No, he's just ahead of us, down the trail, around that next bend or beyond. That's how I like to think of the paths he has walked, and how he led the way. The way along which we may continue and carry on with the passions of caring for and reveling in the wild of nature.
What a great guy! Blessed to have shared time with him.
Much love to Kay, Rosanne, Chris & Todd and everybody touched by this inspirational, very special man. Farewell James, with very fond memories and deep deep respect.
Di and I were as stunned as the rest of you when Sydni Scott called us out of the blue and told me Kay had asked her to let us know that James had passed. We had just driven through back in mid-April, where we fed James and Kay breakfast in our little travel trailer there at Brown's Town. These two were obviously comfortable with each other and still deeply in love.
When someone so vital suddenly drops away, it is just hard to believe he is gone. Since that fateful call, so many memories of James have come flooding out of my mind and even now I am learning more interesting things abut him - like his middle name: Kepler. Kay, is this a family name, or was James' father (or mother) an astronomer?.
I first met James when I began working winters as the ski mechanic at the Ski Hut in Berzerkeley back in the early '70s. His personal integrity was already legendary there. The walls of his Mail Order department were filled with cards and letters testifying to the friendly, straight forward, efficient and utterly competent way he ran the show there. Later we all saw the same commitment to excellence at Wilson's Eastside Sports.
His sense of humor wasn't far behind: I once saw James and Peter Noone chasing each other around the store in a knock-down, drag-out shoot-out with those little plastic pistols that shot tiny Frisbees instead of water. I was still finding those little plastic discs around the shop months, even years later. And I always thought it was James who, when the restroom walls had been repainted (several times), started the next round of graffiti with the words: "Clean Walls?"
James and I did not see each other very often, but always followed each other's careers with interest: mine at Sawyer Paddles and Oars (James loved wood working); his at Wilson's. We always made time to see each other at the Outdoor Retailer Summer Market show in Salt Lake City. James turned me on to a wonderful Vietnamese restaurant there, to which we returned year after year. He loved seeking out well run small businesses with special offerings. He especially appreciated honest, capable, committed people. Every time I saw them together, James would brag openly about his manager Chris, saying his business wouldn't be what it was without her. He was seven years younger than I, but he was still a mentor when it came to fostering and maintaining enduring relationships. That's the kind of guy he was.
I have loved the Sierra Nevada since my first back packing trip out of Mineral King in 1945 at age 4 and I took my bride Di on her first back packing trip into the Virginia Lakes, but James was In Love with the Sierra. I doubt if he could have lived anywhere else. Just imagine the number of trails he knew back in the fastness of those mountains. We mainly saw James & Kay when we passed through Bishop on that incredible route 395. Showing up at Wilson's for a visit became even more important than standing outside Schat's with a quarter pound of butter waiting for the bakery to open. Once we had the pleasure of showing James & Kay around our own corner of paradise: Ashland, Oregon (in The Mythical State Of Jefferson) when they were passing through looking at colleges for Roseanne. The four of us loved swapping stories about boots, paddles, teaching, climbing, nursing, gardening, daughters, nieces & nephews, and of course, the back country out yonder.
We never joined James & Kay on any of their trips, but we all enjoyed hearing about the others' adventures. We shared a few of them - like time in Death Valley and canoeing Labyrinth & Stillwater Canyons on the Green River, just not at the same time.
James' family, his friends, his colleagues, the desert, the birds - and the mountains- we're all going to miss him, but as long as we live we will hold him close in our hearts.
We are honored and blessed to be counted among James' many admirers,
Dick & Di McKinney/Sly
Ashland, Oregon
The child yelled out "No. I'm having too much fun". I thought "Wow,
what a good father James must have been".
Lorraine Masten
Last weekend, camped in the wilderness, of course I thought a lot about James because he was such a foremost wilderness lover and advocate. At sunset, as the lakes turned dark and the sky bright, there was a lovely view of Red Slate Mountain, a fine route James and I climbed many years ago. Moments later, Hermit Thrushes called their music from the hemlocks below my viewing ledge, and I was reminded that James taught me that most beautiful of birdsongs. James was a great mentor to me in matters of natural history, and in that way, he enriched my life greatly.
Stunned, bummed, shocked -- it's inevitable of course, but so unexpected. James had a quiet confident integrity that served him so well in all of his endeavors. He was such a model of how to conduct oneself in a way that held strong to one's beliefs and values, but respected others and their perspectives. I'll miss his humor, wise counsel, broad knowledge of so many things, and love for his family and friends.
http://www.monolake.org/today/2015/07/18/eastern-sierra-loses-james-wilson/
Your cup was not only half full, it was brimming over.
If there is a heaven, I hope you meet John Muir there. You would have
so much to talk about!
It was a privilege to know and work for you for the past 15 years.
Your spirit will live on with Kay, Roseanne, Bayard, & Ansel, and all
those whose lives you touched.
We'll miss you so much...
Leave a Tribute
Happy 75th!
Thinking about you today; fondly missing your crazy side.
Do you remember the free-for-all Frisbee gun battles at the Ski Hut? You and Peter Noone sometimes fought it out at point blank range. Good thing you wore glasses!
I was frequently caught in the cross fire back in the ski binding shop!
I'll bet someone is still finding those little disks in the corners.
Thanksgiving
Thought I would share a story I posted on the SuperTopo thread about my dad:
I remember a few years ago November when my dad still owned Eastside Sports, an employee told a customer on the phone that our winter hours were 7 days a week until 5:00pm, and they could come on by during those hours and pick up their rental equipment. Problem was, the day scheduled in the notes happened to be Thanksgiving Day, one of the only days of the year Eastside Sports was closed. My dad worried and fretted about what to do, because these customers were planning on picking up their rental equipment to go on a big adventure, and he thought their whole trip would be derailed if they stopped by that day and Eastside Sports wasn't open as promised. Finally, he posted a note on the door that said something along the lines of, "CUSTOMER NAME, you made reservations to pick up your rental equipment today, we are closed, but call store owner James Wilson." Sure enough, an hour or so before Thanksgiving dinner, they called, and my dad ran down to the store, opened the doors especially for them, and made sure they had their equipment and were on their way. He came home jazzed about the experience and the customer's upcoming adventure. For me, this epitomized my dad as a business man - genuine excitement about customer's adventures and and caring about every single individual who stepped through the doors. I know Eastside Sports still carries that spirit today.
This story has been on my mind a lot lately as Thanksgiving approaches. Of course I miss my pops so much. He was completely healthy and had recently been to the doctor for checkups. The team at Renown in Reno said they did not think he could have done anything different to prevent this stroke. All of which is to say, get out there in honor of my dad. He loved the Eastside and he loved being outside, especially with family and friends.
Climb on!
My Favorite Cousin
Growing up in the west when most of our family was still on the east coast we never had the huge family holiday get together. We did though have a small band of the Wilsons living in the central valley of California. We would always spend Thanksgiving with them, either in L.A or at their house. I was always enthralled with the knowledge of natural world that they all possessed. The older brothers were never around but the stories and adventures of one in particular always grabbed my attention. James was always in the mountains or climbing something. As the years went on, Wheeler and Wilsons was opened, and my love of mountaineering and climbing grew. James became a legend for me and someone I had to meet. As soon as I was working and had my own vehicle I was determined to go to Bishop and meet James and Kay and now little Rosanne. I still remember that first phone conversation. After introducing myself and saying I wanted to come up and meet him finally. He said sure let’s go climbing. I tried to get up there as much as possible and I was always welcome if they were around. Being a chef in training may have helped too. Throughout the years, I have climbed with many people and I have never been so comfortable climbing with anyone as I was with James. Not just because he was my cousin but I have never meet such a calm relaxed and grounded person in my life. He was always in tune with the natural world around him and had that unique sense of humor that was characteristic of the Wilsons. I was recently telling my girls the next time we go to LA, we have to make a trip to the most beautiful part of CA and visit the Wilsons of the Eastern Sierra. Don’t worry Kay and Rosanne we will still come for a visit but James you will be greatly missed.
Standing next to James, Kay, Rosie, Chris and BirdBob on the Osa Peninsula in Costa Rica. This Scarlet Macaw was spectacular, but every bird we saw, no matter where, was special in one way or another. Even the invasive Eurasian Collared-Dove, so common now where we live, got a favorable comment from James when no one else could muster one up. "They're really handsome," he said. "No matter our opinion of what damage they may be doing on the wrong continent, they're still handsome."