PORT ANGELES — The loss of Bob Boardman drew hundreds together Saturday for a sharing of music, tears, embraces and stories of a man whom family and friends remember as a hero on the last day, and each day, of his life.
The memorial gathering, held at the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribal Center — one of the places where Boardman, a nurse and diabetes educator, worked during some three decades on the North Olympic Peninsula — began with a wistful Klallam love song and the wrapping of Boardman’s widow, Susan Chadd, in a blanket.
It continued with the story of how Boardman was gored and killed Oct. 16 by a mountain goat in Olympic National Park, and ended with Chadd’s thanksgiving for the life she shared with him.
Some 350 attended
Luana Arakawa of the Lower Elwha tribe was among the first to speak to the gathering of some 350 members of the musical, medical and outdoors-loving communities of which Boardman was a part.
Covering Chadd’s thin shoulders with a deep red and blue blanket, Arakawa said: “This is our love to him, and for her.”
Next came Tom Shindler, one of Boardman’s many musician friends, who said, “Take a look around you. This is an incredible gathering . . . of people touched and nurtured by Bob.”
Boardman, who was 63, was a sought-after guitarist who played in many bands, from Shortbread to Vicious Fishes to the Black Diamond Fiddle Club.
As a nurse, he cared for members of the Lower Elwha and Makah tribes, and for patients at the Volunteers in Medicine of the Olympics — or VIMO — free clinic. Most recently, he helped diabetics learn healthier habits at Olympic Medical Center.
He was also an artist who created drawings of artifacts from the Tse-whit-zen village unearthed in Port Angeles; a writer and journalist; and a hiker who loved the Olympic Mountains.
The way Boardman died left people across the Peninsula in shock two weeks ago, and many are still feeling anger and disbelief.
Tells of his death
When Pat Willits of Port Angeles, his longtime friend, described the day he was killed, a hush fell across the room.
Willits, Boardman and Chadd had hiked the switchback trail to Klahhane Ridge on that sunny Saturday morning and stopped for lunch at an overlook when a male mountain goat approached them.
“When we first saw it, we were seated,” Willits began. “The goat was already so close, about 10 feet away . . . we continued to sit very quietly and still. The animal was huge and way too close.”
The goat’s neck was bowed, and it walked menacingly around the three hikers in what Willits later learned was a ritualistic threat display.
“From the very beginning, the goat fixed his attention on Bob,” and as the three began moving away, the ram followed Boardman, who urged Chadd and Willits again and again, “Keep moving.”
Boardman “had very few options,” as the goat closed in, Willits said.
“He kept walking toward safety; the goat was right beside him. Bob endured the constant dread of that for about an hour.”
When Willits and Chadd stopped, Boardman called to them to keep walking away from him and the animal, which they did.
“Soon after that, the goat attacked him,” Willits said.
Saved lives
Weeping, she added, “I am convinced Bob saved Susan’s and my life. Thank you, Bob. I feel humble. And I feel grateful beyond measure.”
More gratitude and tears flowed then from Boardman’s family and from the communities he belonged to.
His sister, Fran Korthof, and his nieces from Wisconsin, where he grew up, remembered the impish way he could get cats to do tricks with him.
Dave Theilk of Port Townsend recalled how he built a wooden boat, the Matil, that was like the man, small and made for adventure.
Boardman was a consummate musician who loved his work as a volunteer and mentor at the Festival of American Fiddle Tunes, Theilk said, and he was a gentle soul who knew how to make heart-to-heart connections with people.
Tom Bihn of Port Angeles, who went with Boardman on innumerable hikes in the Olympics and danced to Boardman’s band at contra dances over the years, remembered how his friend encouraged others to do what they loved.
“That’s what Bob was doing most of the time,” Bihn said. He loved the mountains, music, art and life; “he lived large in the world . . . and brought us along for the ride.”
Boardman took people as they are, Bihn added.
“He didn’t care if you were young or old, or which tribe you didn’t or did belong to.”
‘Brother-out-law’
When Boardman and Chadd got together, it was a joining of souls, said Chadd’s brother Ed, who also took many hikes with the man he called his “brother-out-law.”
But these were two very different people, Ed added.
“At first he was just too bubbly . . . it took [Chadd’s] younger son, Jake,” who at 17 didn’t like many people — but immediately took to Boardman, to encourage his mom to give the guy a chance.
Chadd’s challenge, Ed said, “was to let, go, relax, and let the joy come in.” With Boardman, she did.
A procession of others — Graciela Harris, “supposedly Bob’s supervisor” at OMC; Lower Elwha chairwoman Frances Charles; Larry Little of VIMO; Rosie Sharpe of the Black Diamond Fiddle Club — also remembered Boardman’s enthusiasm for the people in his life.
“He had so much energy,” Charles said. “He really kept everyone else going.”
Finally Chadd, wrapped in her blanket, walked to the microphone.
No matter how busy they were, her husband always found time for a walk together, up the trail from their home near Little River.
And he never missed a chance to stop to notice a tiger lily blooming or the stars shining. At the end of their walk, he would turn to her and say, “Babe, aren’t we lucky?”
Chadd had loved the idea that they would grow old together. Yet she is grateful, she said, for the 11 ½ years they shared.
“I know he would feel graced,” Chadd said, “by your amazing outpouring of love.”
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Features Editor Diane Urbani de la Paz can be reached at 360-417-3550 or at diane.urbani@peninsuladailynews.com.
