Doris Milner, Grande Dame of Montana Wilderness

Wilderness Hero
Wilderness Hero

As the 40th anniversary of the Wilderness Act approached in 2004, we hoped to interest National Public Radio in the story of ordinary people saving wilderness. The perfect example would be the once seriously imperiled area at the south end of the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, straddling the divide between Idaho and Montana southwest of Missoula.

This place-the "Magruder Corridor"-was the scene of a furious, long-running controversy in the 1960s and 70s, but was ultimately preserved as an addition to the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in 1980 thanks to a classic grassroots wilderness campaign.

Most of all, focusing on this place would allow NPR to meet Doris Milner, an iconic volunteer wilderness advocate, and to hear the story of how and why she enlisted to save this special place. The upshot was one of those NPR/National Geographic Radio Expeditions, reported by NPR's Elizabeth Arnold. As the NPR press release put it:

"One of the unique aspects of the Wilderness Act was that it set up a system that allowed citizens-and not just government agencies-to add to the overall roster of protected lands. One of those 'regular folks' is Doris Milner, a Montana resident who got angry when she stumbled on a bulldozer in a favorite place near the Selway-Bitterroot boundary she thought should be protected."

The NPR team interviewed Doris, sitting in comfortable lawn chairs in view of the Bitterroot Mountains, in her backyard on a high hill outside Hamilton, Montana. Finally, Arnold asked a simple question: "why?" Why did this woman, busy with her children and an already full life, decide to roll up her sleeves, making it her business to save the Magruder Corridor from logging roads and clearcuts? Her response, said as though she thought the answer obvious, was a classic: "All I knew was I was mad. That's all I knew -- and I was going to do something about it."

There you have it: the essence of how thousands of ordinary citizens have become wilderness heroes-because a favorite wild place is threatened and "I was going to do something about it."

There is just such a story behind most of the 107 million acres now protected by law under the 1964 Wilderness Act.

Doris Milner knew the fundamental "secret" to being an effective citizen in our democracy. Most important, she says, is to "do your homework, so you know the facts. Know the claims that your opponents will likely raise and have the answers." And, she adds, you reach out to find the help you need. In her case, it was the support of the Montana Wilderness Association, the Montana Wildlife Federation, and ultimately the national assistance of The Wilderness Society and the Sierra Club.

Reminiscing about the Magruder Corridor campaign, one of many she went on to lead or inspire across the Northern Rockies, Doris emphasizes that citizen wilderness campaigns often have a "Perils of Pauline" quality, periodically seeming on the verge of hopeless defeat. To these challenges, as to her later frequent service as president of the Montana Wilderness Association, Doris brought perhaps the most important "secret ingredients:" tireless persistence matched with a terrific sense of humor. Doris would just not be Doris were she not having a good time in her many wilderness campaigns. And her good spirits and "can do" approach were infectious, more than once rallying her colleagues to rise to the challenge, however hopeless it might appear.

Oh yes-Doris has one more leadership secret: the warm cookies that always seemed to be just coming from her oven whenever an itinerant wilderness advocate arrived. Generations of Montana and national wilderness leaders sat on her porch for a shot of the special adrenaline Doris always provides, just by being Doris.