Farewell to Ray Corning, Friend and Fighter

by Mac Blewer

Photo by Mary Corning

From our perch on Oregon Buttes, we surveyed the rolling hills of the northwestern Red Desert. A few light early summer rains had helped the land. Lupine, Indian paintbrush, and shooting stars dotted the sagebrush for miles around. The "Grand Old Fellows," as Mark Twain called the silver peaks of the Wind River Range, rose to the west, and we could see Oregon Buttes' sister sky islands, Green Mountain and Steamboat Mountain, to the east and south.

As the late afternoon sun accentuated the hills' contours and shadows, my friend Ray Corning pointed to the land and smiled, as if touched by earlier memories of another rambling in another wild place.

"These wide open spaces remind me in so many ways of the Alaskan tundra," he said, moving his long, sinewy arm through the air in a halfcaress. "I love it. We better be careful what we do out here."

Stepping past a limber pine scarred by a hungry porcupine, we descended gingerly down the twisting, gravelly game trail, Ray pointing out different species of grasses along the way. I would not know it, but that trek that we took two years ago was my last time in the desert with Ray, although I would visit him and his wife, Mary, many times before the end.

On September 13 we lost a dear friend and a brave fighter when Ray passed away after a ten-month battle with esophageal cancer. Even during his last days he would greet visitors with a firm handshake and a ready joke.

A Life-long Fight for the Environment

To his friends, Ray was best known for his dry humor, kindness and ever-present smile. To his colleagues, he was renowned for a lifetime of fighting for environmental protection and for his honesty, integrity and badger-like tenacity. He demonstrated leonine courage, both before and during his final battle.

"He was always fighting to protect public access to public lands and maintain the integrity of the waters and the land," Mary notes. "There was no personal gain for him. He would always do what he thought was right, all for the future of wild places and future generations."

Gary Hickman, a retired assistant regional director for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, recalls, "Ray was a very professional, principled fisheries biologist who would stand down the politicians at great risk to his own job. He never was a 'yes man.'"

Passionate Pursuits

Ray was born in 1934 in Casper and spent much of his childhood in Wyoming and in Nebraska, where his father worked on the railroads. After earning a Bachelor's degree in Fisheries Science and a Master's in Zoology from Colorado State University, he began a career that would take him from the tidal marshes of Virginia to the tundra of Alaska and eventually the open spaces of Idaho and Wyoming.

Over three decades Ray worked for the Idaho Fish and Game Department, the Virginia Game and Inland Fisheries Department, the BLM in Washington, DC and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Anchorage.

After his retirement in 1994 he moved to Lander, where he pursued his environmental passions, relentlessly fighting for stronger water-quality protections and monitoring water quality and wetland health in the Popo Agie River watershed and on the Green Mountain Common Grazing Allotment.

"Ray would always approach people from a position of respect and knowledge," says Jack Kelly, field manager for the Lander BLM Office. "He never did it in a way that diminished anyone else. That's why he was so respected. It set him apart." Kelly credits Ray with helping the BLM identify 20 springs important to wildlife and recreationists on the Green Mountain Common Allotment.

"A Wonderful Asset to this Finite Earth"

But Ray was much more than a hard-driving conservationist. His warmth was felt by all who met him. During his time with the Virginia Game and Inland Fisheries Department, he fed poor families with the fish that he electrocuted during his surveys. He dressed up as Santa Claus and delivered presents to families in need. He was a dedicated father, a devoted husband and a lover of life and the land.

"Ray was a wonderful asset to this finite Earth," recalls his friend and WOC founder, Tom Bell. "He combined his knowledge and expertise with his love of the natural world to do many fine things in his principled way. More that that, he was a warm, compassionate human being."

Thane Humphrey, Ray's "adopted Alaska son," believes that "consciously or by instinct, Raymond went where he was needed…It's the type of man he was."

Wyoming still needs you, old friend. We will miss you and remember you always.