I'd like to offer a big and warm thank you to Andrew Smith for recommending Jerry to participate here. It's hard to imagine a circumstance in which I would have met Jerry otherwise. I feel very fortunate to have had this time with him today, which was so lovely and sincere and vulnerable and genuine. Jerry lives on a large plot of landed completely surrounded by BLM land with his 100 sled dogs. Jerry's a sled dog racer and a tour guide and the father to Rachael Scdoris, who has experienced a substantial amount of fame for her athletic accomplishments. I've seen a bunch of sled dogs before, but never 100 of them in one setting. And I've never been so up close and personal with them as I had the opportunity to be today. If you listen to the interview, be aware that I inserted some audio of what those dogs sound like between my introduction and the start of our conversation. While it may not be obvious in the recording, please know that the dogs are happy and healthy and wagging their tails. Jerry and I spent three and a half hours together, which is a bit more than is normal, but it still wasn't quite enough. I so look forward to spending some more time with Jerry — learning from his vast experiences and enjoying more wonderful conversation.
JS: I'm a life-long adventurer. As a youngster, I was really a wild child. I discovered athletics in about the sixth grade. And I was totally obsessed with athletics — track and field, basketball, football, baseball — all through high school. And I had a lot of success, which defined me. And I had really great friends. Everyone had the same interests as I did. And from those childhood and adolescent friends, I still have a lot of them. Because we were really close — like brothers, almost.
Right after adolescence, I got drafted into the Army. Right out of high school, I went to the University of Oregon and I had never learned how to study. I got decent grades in high school, but it's 'cause I paid attention and went to class. When I got to college, I flunked out. And back in 1967, when you flunked out of college, guess where you went. You got drafted immediately. And I got drafted. They promised me if I took an extra year — if I signed up from the two-year draft to a three-year enlistment, I wouldn't go to Vietnam. So, I totally believed 'em — hook, line, and sinker. I took that extra year. And then my life has progressed. And here I am at almost 72.
ACT: What concerns you these days about humanity and the state of the world?
JS: When I got drafted — it takes me back there — and when I took that extra year in the military, I really felt, because of my upbringing and my schooling and the type of indoctrination us kids went through in the '50s and '60, that Vietnam was really a wonderfully just thing — that we were protecting our neighbors and our loved ones from the dirty Communists that were somehow going to infiltrate downtown Portland, Oregon. When I realized almost immediately that that wasn't the case, I went through a real metamorphosis and almost a rebirth as a person and ended up challenging and questioning everything. Anyway, I've had a lifetime of questioning that era.
Now, in the last three or four years, especially, I'm just completely blown away at the suggestions... like this morning I heard Donald Trump suggesting that there could be civil war to protect him from the deep left, whatever he calls it. It's just amazing. I have a four-year-old grandson that is absolutely the true love of my life and I can't even imagine the next twenty years of his life if we don't get things sorted out in the next two years of his life and get back on track, as just a regular dysfunctional society as opposed to what appears to me as a pretty psychotic dysfunctional society.
ACT: What do people mean to you?
JS: Because of my business — the sled dog tour business at Mt. Bachelor — and because I hire, for the last thirty years, anywhere from three to six young people — fresh out of high school, fresh out of college, bright, young, motivated, mainly idealistic, outdoors people and athletes — I've been surrounded by 'em. The good thing is they've kept me really young and on my toes and extremely physically active and healthy. And I'm still healthy except for my knees. I see people as, in my life, critically important. I've always had people around me and that's been my expectation with my business. And before that, being a school teacher and a counselor of court-mandated delinquent boys, I've just always been surrounded by lots of people with lots of issues and lots of stuff on their mind. And I love it. I actually love people.
ACT: If community is our relationships with one another and the world we live in and if those relationships are as important as most people claim them to be, why are we having such a difficult time considering everybody's needs with empathy and compassion?
JS: Boy, that's really a question. Back when I was an adolescent, everything seemed kind of clear cut. First of all, I knew I had my days completely filled with school and practice and my friends. And then in the Army my days were completely filled with the craziness that the military was to me. About 40 years ago, I discovered my love for the outdoors and my desire just to live out here — out here, meaning in the middle of everywhere. Some people say, Oh, you live out there in the middle of nowhere. Well, no, I live in the middle of everywhere. And I just feel so lucky that I discovered this.
Before the internet and cable television, when there was no exterior/outside entertainment available, my daughter and I — I raised her out here in the Badlands Wilderness Area — and we had a stairway up to our roof and every single night — every night — we went up there and we camped out on top of the roof and laid flat on our backs and looked up at the Milky Way. My daughter's visually impaired and she would lay there and tell me what she saw. From the time she was five or six until she was seven or eight, she could hardly wait to get up there so she could see god in the Milky Way. And I thought that was pretty cool.
So, I think the world's in bad shape right now. I think the people that know better have really got to stand up. I have several friends that really think differently than I do about life — about what I'm expressing right now — that are really great people. They just don't look at things the same way as I do. So, I've got a lot of room for those people in my heart. And I don't think that we're in a desperate place. I think we have really desperate people that are trying to divide us. But I think there's still a lot of hope for a lot of good.
ACT: What's the compulsion for the division? Why does that motivation exist?
JS: Well... I think it's all money. I think it's all the desire for wealth. But then I see the folks, the really poor people that support Trump — I don't know how much I want to get into my feelings about Trump right now because I get a little irrational talking about irrational subjects — but I see the irrational support of someone who could not even stand to be in their presence; they would repulse him and his family and his children. But they support him blindly. And I really believe somehow he's touched a chord.
I know that every day of my life I've gotten up and made something happen. And made money. Enough money to support myself and my daughter and the few to several employees I have. I know that no one's given me anything. But when I hear people say that people that are against Trump just want a handout, it just really makes me crazy. It just doesn't make sense.
ACT: Instead of hoping for a better future, do you think we will accept responsibility and take the action to work for a better future?
JS: Well, I think hope is everything. I lived my life always with the desire to have things a little easier than they are now. Because of my education and the things that I've done professionally, I've seen people that, looking at them, you'd think they don't have a prayer in the world — adolescent boys that were felons at an early age — to do any better in their lives. And it's pretty hard to talk to them about developing a plan and having hope to be a better person and to not end up in adult jail. It's pretty challenging. For myself, at this point in my life, I'm not hoping for things for myself. I'm really comfortable. And I've paid my dues psychologically trying to figure stuff out. And I don't think I've figured, necessarily, anything out, but I figured out that what I care about is a future for my grandson. I can't imagine anyone that has a grandchild — four to ten years old — that isn't really worried or at least concerned about their futures. Leaving 'em a lot of money or a few thousand bucks isn't gonna make any difference. The world really has to change.
I went to a soccer game the other day with my grandson who's four and just really sees himself as a future Oregon Duck football player or New York Red Bull soccer player, Portland Timber soccer player. And he's four! If we don't get things sorted out a little bit — things are never gonna be perfect — I don't see much future for the kids.
Back in the '70s and the early '80s, they called it runaway inflation. And now looking at the cost of everything, it's skyrocketing inflation. And where will it stop? And what are people gonna do just for a basic living? The ultra, ultra wealthy are digging their heels in and really developing strategies never to lose that wealth. And they appear to be willing to do anything to protect it. And I don't see people that don't have a grasp of their tenuous existence hanging in there financially — even for the basics.
ACT: Do you have a sense of purpose?
JS: Yeah, I think I've always had a real sense of purpose. The thing that really gave me purpose was when my daughter was born. Before that I think I just wanted to maintain my health. I was really into running — marathon running. There was no more pole-vaulting or fantasies about being a great football player — I was 38 when she was born — but I was really fit and pretty confident. Moving forward with my dogs, I was really focused on myself. That's what it was all about — just staying fit and eating right and no booze, nothing that would interfere with my physical objectives. Then when Rachael was born, everything changed.
From the first month, I knew something was wrong with her vision. And I was a Special Ed teacher. And I knew how to go through the system. And it was so hard. Knowing how to navigate the system, I was blown away by how hard it was and what it was like for me to be told no, that those services weren't available or that there was nothing that could be done. It hit me really hard back then. Well then what in the heck do people do that have no idea how to move through this? How do they deal with it? So, anyway, I spent years being an advocate — and I still am; I'm just not active — for disabled kids and juvenile delinquents and all that.
I decided to go after the other pursuit of being a sled dog racer and operator and going out in the mountains and clearing my brain of everything and just focusing on my dogs and the environment and the beauty that the solitude gave me. That's what I focused on for a long, long time. Oh, and making ends meet as a small business operator. I have tremendous respect for tiny businesses — mom and pop's and daughter's and dad's businesses. It's a miracle that we exist in this corporate-driven world.
ACT: How do we bridge gaps without judgment?
JS: Oh, boy. That is the thing. I mentioned earlier I have so many friends that I love. I love a lot of people. And I've got friends that say things occasionally —politically and just in general — that just stops me in my tracks. And I know that I do the same to them. I know I do. So, I know that they're opening their heart to me. And if they can open their hearts to me — 'cause I'm pretty clearly a liberal in some ways extremist — and they still love me. At least they give me the feeling that I'm totally acceptable in their lives. And then if they're not, I've got nothing for 'em and they certainly have nothing for me. That's pretty judgmental.
Like this morning's tweet from Donald Trump — that he sees a civil war looming... the difference back then, in the 1850s and '60s, is that there was a dividing line. There's no dividing line now. We're all neighbors. I live within a mile of people that think very radically differently than I do. And I don't want the President or anyone suggesting that we can't figure stuff out and can't live together somehow. Whenever I really start talking about this, like this right now, I feel like I could go into my old hippie days, Why can't we all get along? And I think it's more complicated than that in some ways, but in other ways it's not.
I would say I have as many extremely conservative friends as I do really liberal friends, maybe even more, because of where I live and what I do. And I don't feel fearful of those extreme remedies happening. And for the sake of my grandson, I don't know if it's hope for a better place... I'm leery of asking everyone to think the basics of the Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount, because I'm definitely not a religious guy. But there's just some basics on how to live and a lot of people that are spouting off really radical issues and programs on both sides should probably think of their grandchildren and the fact that we've got to figure it out. I don't think we're doing a good job of it right now. I think we need politicians that really live it, that believe it, that believe that there's hope. If the only hope a person has is to attain more wealth and more power, then I don't think that's very hopeful.