Celebrating the Life of Les Neitzel

One of the last interactions NCLC Executive Director Katie Voelke had with Les Neitzel, a longtime volunteer who passed away in January, was when they were talking about NCLC’s timeline to remove the old barn at Circle Creek Habitat Reserve to make way for the new conservation center.

As Katie recalls, Les didn’t have any opposition to the project, which involved constructing a new building at a place that he lovingly and voluntarily cared for throughout the years. In fact, he was excited.

However, Les did bring up one concern about the schedule: that the barn would be taken down before the young swallows who lived inside had fledged the nest.

“He was very in tune with the swallows,” Katie said, adding that his life in the Necanicum Watershed had given him an acute understanding and sensitivity toward things like that—when the swallows return each year to nest, when the fledging happens, and the fact that there are fewer and fewer swallows nowadays as they frequently nest in buildings. Because of that, and the schedule of their nesting, and the typical time of year people do construction or clean their gutters, swallow nests are all too often unwittingly destroyed.

“Without anybody noticing, we are making the swallows go away. But Les noticed,” Katie says. “He knew we would want to know that and we wouldn’t want to make that mistake of simply taking this barn down, therefore destroying the swallow nest before the babies could fledge the nest.”

So NCLC delayed the barn demolition until Les, who was vigilantly monitoring the nest, gave the update that the baby swallows had fledged.

Neal Maine, the founding executive director of NCLC, echoed that sentiment. He had known Les for decades, having taught him in both middle and high school in Seaside in the 1960s.

He described Les in his youth as “very confident” and “a brilliant guy,” with a natural affinity for ecology and other sciences. He went on to Oregon State University after graduating from SHS, but the Vietnam War and the intensity of the accompanying protest movement had a significant impact on a young man bearing such innate sensitivity, to the point Les became a bit disillusioned with the world, and humanity in particular.

He returned home and worked as a logger for several decades. He also began doing large-scale projects on his property, “contributing to the ecology of the area individually,” Neal says. Meanwhile, he was witnessing the subdivision of a homestead off Highway 26 along the Necanicum River and the careless way the neighborhood was being developed.

That was how he connected with NCLC about 15 years ago, and the organization became somewhat of anchor for him up until his passing this year. “Once he got onboard with the land trust, he was always there working for the land trust,” Neal says. “He spread himself around, but a lot of work was at Circle Creek.”

‘His Own Rhythm’

It wasn’t uncommon to find Les out on the habitat reserve, mowing acres of pasture, tending to trails, and seeing that the land and its wildlife were thoughtfully cared for, day in and day out. Because of his rigorous dedication to Circle Creek and the countless hours he spent tending to its ecological systems, he became close to NCLC staff and other volunteers.

Celeste Lebo, the former Stewardship Director at NCLC, first met him at Circle Creek in 2009. Recalling their time together, she says, “I find it hard because so much of what we shared wasn’t said but felt through a shared knowledge of the land.”

“Time stood still around Les,” she adds. “No matter how long it had been since we last spoke, we picked up right where we left off. He had his own rhythm and way of moving through the world that was unhurried, always thoughtful, and often stopped me in my tracks each time we met.”

As she fell into pace alongside her friend, she would say to herself, “Okay, deep breath, slow down.”

He had an honest and selfless relationship to the Earth, Celeste says, wanting nothing more than to support and protect the habitats, animals, and plants that intersected with his life on the Neitzel farm.

“From the outside, the farm might seem like a fragmented, altered piece of ground,” she says. “To Les, it was everything. It was the forested-river-grassland of his life—a place he never stopped falling in love with each and every day. If my life can reflect at least a shadow of the way that Les perceived the natural world, I would consider myself blessed.”

Time stood still around Les. No matter how long it had been since we last spoke, we picked up right where we left off. He had his own rhythm and way of moving through the world that was unhurried, always thoughtful, and often stopped me in my tracks each time we met.

Celeste Lebo, former NCLC Stewardship Director

An Inquisitive Mind

Current NCLC Stewardship Director Melissa Reich got to know him in a similar way, meeting him when she was an AmeriCorps volunteer planting trees out along Circle Creek. Les was auguring all the holes as she followed along, plopping trees into their new home.

“I immediately loved him,” Melissa says. “He was a little gruff, clad in his weathered, shredded Filson, with such a sweet, kind heart. Les cared deeply for Circle Creek and all those who helped steward the place he considered his second home. He was very inquisitive and asked brilliant and thoughtful questions.”

That is something volunteer Jeff Roehm remembers as well: that even though Les possessed great intellect—described by his classmates and teachers as the proverbial “smartest kid in the room”—he didn’t wear it in a pretentious way.

“If you brought up an important issue, he knew all about it,” Jeff says. “But what I noticed is that he always wanted to know what I thought. He was the one asking the questions.”

For instance, Jeff remembers a day back in 2017, when he was at Circle Creek, taking a lunch break with NCLC’s summer interns. Les was sitting off to the side.

“I suggested they might want to ask Les about whatever we were discussing,” Jeff says. “So Sabrina, the leader of that group from Pomona College in L.A., got up, went over to Les, sat down, and started to talk. Soon all three were sitting there, with Les doing the asking. I will never forget that moment. That was Les.”

Les’ contributions might have been behind the scenes, but they were immense and unyielding.

“He spent many hours out on Circle Creek Reserve, alone with his thoughts, mowing pathways and pastures so the rest of us could get around and do what we could to help nature work its magic,” Jeff says. “It was obvious; Les loved his little corner of our planet.”

It is unknown whether Les would’ve necessarily described himself as “an environmentalist.” To him, growing up in the country, conservation of resources and working hard was just a way of life. He wanted to do right by his family and by his home and by nature.

“It was that clear for him,” Katie says. “I’ve never known anybody else like Les Neitzel, and I’m sure I will never know anybody else like him. He was such a wise old soul.”