FORT ATKINSON, Wis —

In a room filled with grief, but also a sense of awe and deep appreciation, people gathered in Fort Atkinson last month for the celebration of life of a man whose name, for many, has become synonymous with conservation in the state of Wisconsin: former Department of Natural Resources secretary George Meyer. Meyer was a champion of Wisconsin’s natural resources with a never-wavering determination. But more than that, Meyer was a mentor, friend, husband, father, and grandfather. Although Meyer held many titles during his life, including DNR secretary and executive director of the Wisconsin Wildlife Federation, his favorite title was, “grandpa,” and one that he took to wholeheartedly.

The ceremonies in Fort Atkinson were emceed by current Wisconsin Wildlife Federation executive director Cody Kamrowski. Family, friends, colleagues and mentees of Meyer shared their stories with the standing-room-only crowd that had gathered in the venue.

“To me, George was a true conservation visionary,” Kamrowski said. “But more than that, he was someone who believed deeply in people. He didn’t just talk about the future. He invested in it. He gave his time, his energy, and his trust to young leaders, to partnerships, to building something bigger than himself. I’m standing here today because George took the time to invest in me, and I know I’m not alone in that.” He spoke of all the questions, big and small, that he, at times, bombarded Meyer with, and the grace and care with which Meyer responded, always assuring Kamrowski that he was on the right track, even at times when he felt he might be in over his head.

Former DNR secretary Adam Payne was also present to offer up his stories and memories of Meyer.

“At age 26, I was starting my career,” Payne said. “I had so much to learn. And I was in awe of Secretary Meyer.” He said he did not know at the time how much Meyer would impact him and his career, nor that he was meeting with a future Wisconsin Conservation Hall of Famer.

Payne also spoke about Meyer’s wish to work with not only the Wisconsin Land and Water Department, but with local land and water departments and, truly, anyone who had the best interests of the state’s natural resources in mind.

“George was something special,” Payne said. “He was a thoughtful leader. He was humble. He was smart. He was hard working, and knew how important it is to work in collaboration with others.” He said Meyer did not care whose idea it was, or who got the credit. He just wanted to get things done.

When Payne was appointed at DNR secretary, he said, and walked into his office for the first time, sat in his chair for the first time, his first thought was to be humbled by sitting in Meyer’s chair.

Molly O’Grady was one of the first students to enter the Conservation Leadership Corps (CLC) when it began in 2013. She was mentored by Meyer for over 10 years in moving the CLC forward. She shared her thoughts on, and memories of, Meyer and what his mentorship meant to her.

O’Grady said she was inspired by what the program had to offer, but was a bit disheartened to learn that she was not yet in the age range the program was looking for. But she felt Meyer was an approachable sort, and bolstered her courage to go shake his hand and introduce herself. After that hand shake, she said, Meyer took her under his wing.

“Eventually it was him [Meyer], myself and Cody {Kamrowski] that were working on the development of the program and the structure, and it was really in those first few years that I really developed some foundational skills that I would use for the rest of my life when it came to my profession,” O’Grady said. Subsequently, Meyer offered her the first position she had after college as a policy intern. Meyer’s professional mentorship continued on, she said, when she started to help to create national conservation programs. Things then came full circle for O’Grady, as she began to mentor others in conservation.

“George was the kind of person who always saw your potential, even when you didn’t,” O’Grady said.

Meyer’s son Andrew also spoke, not only about his father’s achievements, but also about George as a dad.

“You’ve heard a lot of folks talk about a lot of things he’s done,” Andrew Meyer said. “You hear a lot about his career. You hear a lot about the things he’s done. And he’s done all of those things. But what you have to understand is he did all of this as my father and, to me, all of these things he’s done are just the tip of the iceberg. You have no idea what kind of man he was at home. He did all of this, and he was still Dad.”

He said that while others talked about the sacrifices Meyer’s family must have made while he was out “fighting the good fight” for conservation, so to speak, Andrew said it never felt like that. He said he never felt like he lost out of anything. While Meyer was, indeed, doing a great deal for the state, his family did not come second. There were camping trips, scouting excursions and many other family memories made. Andrew called him an amazing father who was always present in his life, and his family’s life. He said the only thing Meyer did better than being a Dad was being a grandfather. Meyer’s love for his grandson was known across the state, and spending time with the next generation was never more important than with Laken.

Meyer’s daughter Jocelyn also spoke about her father, stating they had always known that Meyer knew, “everyone,” and that there were thousands of people in his network, but the outpouring of support for her family, as well as those simply looking for ways to help, had meant so much to her family. From the big, bold stories to the small, quiet stories, she found his network was not, as they had thought, like a field of violets, creeping along the surface in every direction, but more like the deep roots of a burr oak – not only spreading outward in all directions, but also running deep. With that in mind, Meyer’s ashes were placed in a burr oak burl, beautifully created into an urn by a family friend. That urn was watched over by the DNR Color Guard, dressed in 1930s uniforms, leading up to the ceremony.

“Dad was my mentor, my partner in crime, my sounding board, my conscience, my buddy.,” Jocelyn Meyer said. She was often his ride-along over many parts of the globe. But also got to accompany him on the close excursions near home, and to the storied halls of the Department of Natural Resources. As she got older, he, too, would become her ride-along on adventures. When Jocelyn became an adult, she said, she gained access to an entirely new level of her dad’s stories.

“He taught me to how to be gentle and still, and the wonderful things in nature that will unfold right before your eyes if you know where to look,” she said. “Learning to be observant and still turned into learning how to be tactful but fierce.” While much of her fire came from her mother, she said, Meyer never tried to put out the fire of either woman, but lead them to a place where they could use that fire as more of a “controlled burn,” she said, with laughs echoing through the audience.

“He would want me to remind you all that we are made of those who love us,” Jocelyn Meyer said. “And our greatness is not what we have, it’s what we give. He viewed himself as being a patchwork of you, of us, of everything we love. He would also tell you that it isn’t a loss – it is a trade. Because, as he gave you all pieces of him, he also gave us all pieces of him to keep.

One of the last projects on which Meyer worked with the WiWF was that of the Vista Sands Solar Project, which was planned to encroach on important habitat for the state-threatened prairie chicken. The matter eventually took the form of the WiWF becoming an intervener, with a lawsuit that was ultimately won to protect that habitat. Never one to give up on conservation, Meyer spent countless hours standing up to the Public Service Commission to get the boundaries of the solar farm changed. But always just as humble, Meyer was never one to boast about himself, no matter his credentials and experience. Kamrowski shared a story about working side by side with Meyer on this effort.

“When we were getting ready for the court hearing before the PSC administrative law judge on the Vista Sands Project, George said, ‘they have a team of very expensive attorneys and all we have is a retired old guy who hasn’t practiced law in decades. But what we are doing is right and we have science, credibility and dedication behind us, so I would say we are about even.’”

Keeping with Meyer’s wishes, a silent auction and bucket raffle accompanied his celebration of life, with the proceeds going toward an organization in which he always had a great deal of faith, one that always looked to move conservation forward in the state – the Wisconsin Wildlife Federation. Meyer dealt with a number of issues as the executive director of the organization, was integral in the creation of the CLC, and always a proponent of the organization supporting all sportsmen and women in their pursuit of conservation activities. George Meyer’s Celebration of Life events were able to raise over $11,000 for the Wisconsin Wildlife Federation, with people showing support for Meyer as well as an organization that meant to much to him, and to conservation win the state.