Our National Parks were founded one hundred years ago today. Teddy Roosevelt signed into law what has become “our Nations greatest idea.” Parkland, open space, remarkable beauty, cliffs, mountains, prairies, rivers, and wonders all around for all of us to enjoy.

In 1964, Lyndon Johnson added National Seashores to the growing list of places. In the summer of 1987, I signed on as a NPS Seasonal Ranger at Fire Island National Seashore. I was in a funk – midlife crisis at the time. Fire Island got my out of that real fast.

When I started, my uniform had yet to arrive. Allison broke me in. I quickly learned that there was a form for practically anything. The visitors center is two stories high. The building was moved from a private home owned by the owners of Budweiser Beer Corporation. They donated the building to the National Park Service. It was set on a barge and floated east in the Intercoastal Waterway. The balcony offered 360 degree views.  My role was to present the image of the National Parks.  I assumed this image the day my uniform arrived.

I took the boxes into the bathroom and changed into my uniform, the same as every other national park employee in the nation. I had never worn a uniform and I was shocked when I looked at myself in the mirror. Gray shirt, brown belt, brown shoes, brown pants, the badge, the name plate, and…the “Smoky the Bear” hat. I exited the bathroom and someone called “Mr. Ranger, I have a question.” I was surprised.  This alone wiped away the midlife crisis funk. I never realized how much of an impact a uniform has on one’s opinion of themselves.

My boss, visiting from headquarters, checked me out. “No t-shirts or white socks. We maintain the NPS image. We look sharp. We are the face of Fire Island National Seashore. You are here to enforce park rules in the politest possible level. If you see someone walking on a dune, you are to say.’We ask you to stay off the dunes. They are fragile.”

I fell into a daily routine. My first duty was to raise the American Flag. In the two summers I was on duty, I only saw the flag limp once! The ocean breeze, the sound of the waves, the views of ocean, island, bay, mainland quickly infused saltwater into my blood.

I unlocked the door to the second floor which gives viewers a full 365 degree view from the observation deck. I manned the telephone, answered questions, checked beach buggy permits. I went on patrol with a two-way radio so the hierarchy could contact my any time. I went on patrol along the boardwalk. I led nature walks. I’d square up my Straw flat-brimmed hat, lock the door, and go on butt patrol (cigarette not bikini)

I was asked to develop nature programs for the public. As a science teacher, I looked forward to this. The time flew by. During the week, when fewer visitors stopped by, I had a chance to write in my journal, bird watch, and set up displays upstairs.

The very first day in uniform, A woman rushed into the visitors center and yelled. “There’s a large turtle caught in the surf.” We ran to the scene. My hat fell off on the way. A huge 6-foot long leather back turtle was trapped close to the sane by the force of incoming waves. The surf was rough. Three of us turned the turtle outward and pushed. We were instantly soaked and kept pushing until the turtle floated and paddled and swam away. I hightailed back to retrieve my hat. That was probably one of the most memorable events of the summer.

It was a thrill to share my knowledge of seashore life with adults and children. As a result of my experience, my daughter Jenny followed in my footsteps and became a ranger at Fire Island Seashore as well. We both did our part to show our enthusiasm for the barrier beach and Atlantic Ocean.