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We lost a great game warden and one hell of a man today~;(
Sadly, veteran CDFG Game Warden, Alan Weingarten lost his battle with cancer this afternoon. If you fished the American River much at all in the last twenty years, you knew Alan and if you didn't know him, you missed out on a great opportunity~
Alan was a man's man, short of stature but strong of will and heart...
After graduating from high school, he joined the U.S. Marine Corps and served our country facing combat in the Falkland Islands and later, in Grenada.
Alan was tough as nails but he also had a kind heart towards worthy people and a good head on his shoulders and cared a great deal about our planet and its fish and wildlife resources.
Alan went to college and studied marine biology and earned his masters degree with a thesis on marine phycology (algae). He worked as a scientific aid for CDFG, conducting surveys and biological assessment of our local sturgeon populations. He worked his way up the ladder, paid his dues and eventually graduated from the CDFG Officers Academy.
He spent the better part of the last twenty years as a game warden, protecting what he loved (the fish and wildlife of the Sac/SJ Delta and the American River Parkway). During that 20 years, he put himself in more precarious and often life-threatening situations than most folks see on television... He always had wild stories to tell about his contacts with shady characters in way out places in the dark.
On the river, I always looked forward to seeing Alan because his presence kept the douche-bags away and kept the semi-shady people semi-honest (at least for the day).
Many things set Alan apart from your 'typical' game warden:
He loved the resource and he loved his job. I've met few people, and never another warden, who cared as much about protecting our salmon and steelhead runs and who actually immersed themselves in the resource as intimately as Alan did.
He wasn't petty and would issue citations (or not) commensurate with his perception of an angler's intent. He wasn't a quota guy trying to scratch tickets to make a name for himself. If a guy screwed up and overlooked something or simply didn't know... Alan was perceptive enough to know this and would issue a warning and an explanation of why the regulation was important... but bullshitters, liars, play-dumbers, and those deceitful or disdainful (towards the resource or towards him) would get a big, fat ticket and a shit-eatin' grin.
His two deal-breakers (and rightfully so...) were poachers and litterbugs.
We all knew Alan as the camouflaged-phantom. I can't count the number of times I was standing there fishing and out of nowhere comes a voice from the levee directly above me. "Hey Mark! How's the fishing?" or I'd get a text from Alan about the fish I'd just caught and released and then he would text back, "you DO see me on the bluff up here right?" "No Alan, I can hardly see to tie a knot." and I'd squint and look up and see what I couldn't see but knew was my camo'd warden buddy looking through a Leopold spotting scope.
Alan was a people's person and smart enough to know that the best way to protect a resource was to REALLY get to know the guys and gals using it and turn us in to a resource for information. He freely gave out his phone number to the regulars on the river and encouraged us to call him anytime we saw someone abusing the fisheries. I would bet my ass that Alan got more calls from anglers and other recreationists on our river than the whole Cal-Tip hotline staff during any given salmon/steelhead season and why? because HE would actually answer and do his best to get there or send someone who could get there and deal with the situation at hand.
Sometimes there was a touch of gray in that fine line between friendship and professional obligation with Alan but he always made himself available to you if you sought him out and I always appreciated that about him.
What started as a mild melanoma and subsequent carcinoma from over exposure to sunlight, quickly advanced to life-threatening cancer.
We thought/hoped he had it whooped when, after a several month hiatus, he resumed his duties as game warden on the river this October. Admittedly, he didn't look so good when he first returned but when I saw him in January, he seemed to get color and composure back in his face and he had a spring in his step. It was great to have him back for the upcoming steelhead season. It was great to have him back, period!
On February 20, Alan called me and in a rather sedate voice told me he was calling to let me know he would "be out of commission for a while" and that he had taken a turn for the worse and that the cancer had spread to his liver... He told me he'd enjoyed our friendship over the years and appreciated my ethics as an angler and caretaker of the river. It meant a lot to me.
I told him about my uncle who had been diagnosed with terminal (one month to live) cancer and how he took his kids on a cruise and refused chemo/radiation but then had a change of heart and went through that hell again and came out of it and is still alive 5 years later... What else do you tell a guy who's dying? I told him thanks for all he's done for the river I care so much about and I told him I wanted to see him before I couldn't. I told him that I loved him and I hung up the phone.
Today, I got two phone messages; one from another warden and one from a mutual friend and I didn't need to call back to know...
Alan has left for Valhalla and he won't be coming back to this place.
It's heartbreaking on so many levels. He wasn't even 60 years old... His wife, daughter and son will miss him. The river will miss him and we all will miss him. All the wardens in the region... Hell! all the wardens in the STATE couldn't replace the passion with which Alan protected our local river and its fisheries.
Alan was a rare breed, indeed.
He stuck around long enough to at least see the beginning of the end of the drought and maybe, just maybe, the falling tears will water and sow the seeds for a new beginning and...
sail his Viking ship to new lands... to fight the horde, sing and cry, "Valhalla I am coming!"
I hear its pretty damned sweet in Valhalla~:)
So all you friends: Go wet a line and catch a pretty one, hold her up to the sky and say...
Thanks Alan!
I love you man~
