I was saddened to learn earlier today that Marin Litton, a passionate conservationist, passed away yesterday. I met Martin during my time at Save the Redwoods League. We connected on the redwoods (of course) and over his time in England during World War II fly gliders from airbases likely built by my grandfather.
I will never forget the first time we met. It perfectly exemplifies his fierce independence and passion. We were hosting a memorial tree planting for Martin’s former boss at Sunset Magazine, Ambassador Bill Lane. Given that many of the guests were getting on in years, we’d arranged for a bus to bring people up to the redwoods from the Bay Area. The bus was running late. Very late. And Martin was the reason.
Martin stepped out of the bus with a bloodied and bruised face. In the early morning light, Martin had slipped in his driveway and landed heavily on his head. He’d laid there until his wife found him. Undaunted they dusted hims off and he and his wife drove to meet the bus. Our staff encouraged (implored!) him to go to the local hospital to be checked out. But that would mean missing the event to honor his long-time fellow champion of the Sierra. Martin was getting on that bus if it was the last thing he was going to do. Finally a compromise was reached and he agreed to visit the Garberville emergency room to be checked out when he arrived. Anyone who has done that drive in a car knows its a long and slow drive. Imagine doing that with a bloodied, bruised head? I can’t!
It didn’t end there. Between checking in to the hotel and getting Martin in the car to the hospital, his wife slipped. So we took them both to be checked out. Fortunately both were fine, if bruised. Martin joined everyone the next day for breakfast, complete with a massive bandage and incipient black eye. I can tell from reading his obituary, that this was the real Martin. He was an unstoppable force and the mountains and the forests of the West are better today for it.
Rest in Peace, Martin.