Caffeinated Politics

Mother Nature offered a poignant farewell to George Meyer on Wednesday. The highly respected former secretary of the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, and a steadfast friend to environmental causes across the state, passed away at his home after a courageous battle with cancer.

In the final hours of Tuesday night into Wednesday morning, a large flock of Tundra Swans, Canada Geese, and Coots slowly swam from the Yahara River, settling near B.B. Clarke Beach on Lake Monona. They bobbed gracefully on the water, their calls echoing across the lake. The moment carried special meaning: George had talked of sitting in an Adirondack chair on our lawn, gazing out at that very stretch of water. On the day of his passing, the birds gathered there and lingered for hours. If you believe such things are a sign (as I do) then you understand the moment.

In the days ahead, many tributes will honor Meyer’s legacy. His voice and actions shaped Wisconsin’s environmental policies, advancing forward-thinking measures that continue to benefit residents today. His integrity at the DNR, combined with my own belief in transparent governance, made it natural to advocate for restoring the tradition of the Natural Resources Board selecting the department’s secretary.

Wisconsin had proudly followed that process since 1927, ensuring that stewardship of the state’s resources remained independent of any governor’s influence. But Governor Tommy Thompson claimed that authority for the executive branch. Hopes were high that Governor Jim Doyle, once a critic of the change, would reverse the decision, but it did not happen. Candidate Tony Evers later voiced support for an “independent appointment,” yet the tradition was not restored.

Although Thompson’s appointment of Meyer proved wise, George himself believed the position should be chosen by the Board. He understood, as I do, that relinquishing power is difficult for any executive branch. That is precisely why we must be cautious about granting such authority in the first place. Removing the temptation for political maneuvering—whether by Democrats or Republicans—protects the integrity of natural resource policy and ensures decisions are made for the good of the land and waters we cherish.

For several years, James and I lived kitty-corner from George and Jayne in Madison. On our very first day, as I unpacked boxes, the phone rang. Jayne described the color of my clothes, and when I asked how she knew, she told me to turn around—she was waving from across the street.

George was also a source of inspiration when it came to books. During the pandemic, I sought recommendations for fiction, and he urged me to read Daniel Silva. Twice he emphasized: “Read the Gabriel Allon series in order.” With my tendency toward orderliness, I followed his advice. The series spans 25 novels, and just last month I finished the 18th. His recommendation remains a gift that continues to enrich my life.

In November, George and Jayne joined us for dinner. His eyes still sparkled as he recounted stories of the colorful personalities he had worked with over the decades. Like many others, I often told him he had a remarkable book within him—one that could guide future leaders in natural resource policy. It was a project the always-busy man did not finish.

That evening, as he enjoyed James’ homemade rolls and soup, I recalled another meal we had shared years earlier. The Meyers had invited us to join them at their timeshare in Cancun. On a snowy Wisconsin morning, George drove us to the airport for a non-stop flight southwards. Within hours, we were all seated outdoors in shorts, eating food, and savoring warm breezes off the ocean. That memory returns to me now as I conclude this column.

Over the past year, George faced illness with grace and resolve. And now, like that flight to Cancun, he has left behind the cold and hardship. I believe he is in a place where the sun shines, wildlife abounds, and a good book is always at hand.

Godspeed, George.