Rest well my friend. You of all people certainly deserve it. I just wish it had been delivered to you in a different way. You were a big part of my environmental awareness from the early 80s. I am a beneficiary of that enlightenment even today. You had a commanding way of illuminating wonderful things hidden from view but very much a part of our world, lurking right under our feet. It was magical just being with you in the environment you most loved. Thank goodness someone like you really cared. Very few command the overall respect that you do, even in your passing. It will be remembered and appreciated for an eternity. You will be missed, but never forgotten.

Yar Tim

Tim, Thank you for inspiring me to become an environmentalist, way back in 1976. We all worked for the Malheur National Forest in those days and you taught us what we were losing, what was at stake, and the right thing to do. I joined OWC and never looked back. We will all miss you terribly. But we carry your good deeds, smile and spirit in our hearts.

Tim is the second of my highly respected and admired friends who died within the last few months. When I moved from Idaho to Oregon in 1978 a good friend, Paul Fritz, Manager of Craters of the Moon National Monument told me a high priority for me was to get acquainted with Tim, then a young man. I did and Tim is in my top 10 list of most admired-respected advocates for good sense regarding wildlands, Wilderness, water, wildlife, fish and culture. He was very respected within the wildlands constituency, he worked well with those he disagreed with, he was an amazing backcountry explorer and a easy to connect with friend. Unfortunately I didn’t see him often enough recently, which I now deeply regret.

Thank you Tim for being both a teacher and a student of the forests. You knew so much, but still wanted to learn more. Things I learned from Tim include: jerky really can last forever, always greet people with a hug or a handshake, and don’t ever lose sight of your values. While Tim was good at collaboration and finding middle ground, you could never shake him on core conservation values, especially the known and unknown benefits of our remaining old growth. I always knew when the line was crossed – side conversations would include colorful expletives; but in group settings Tim was always honest and straightforward. He spoke eloquently to citizens, land owners, politicians, land managers, scientists and other environmental advocates. This is such a rare trait, and one that is so needed today. Tim, the world is better because of you. But I selfishly wanted at least 3 more decades of your knowledge and your work. You are missed.

Our sudden loss of Tim was absolutely heartbreaking news. He came on board as a volunteer and then became one of our first staff members while I was president of the Oregon Wilderness Coalition. Along with you, I had the privilege of seeing first hand how his dedicated work for wilderness and roadless areas in Oregon made a tremendous difference. 

Tim's ability to work effectively with loggers, agencies, wilderness advocates and legislators was truly remarkable. Firm in his convictions, he often brought opposing sides together when only impasse seemed possible and helped hammer out agreements that worked to the benefit of wilderness in Oregon. The hard-won protected wildlands of Oregon will long bear the signature of Tim's having been with us.

I remember Tim at the Concert for the forest in Portland's Tom McCall park  Mark Epstin was on his way out as executive director and dam pissed.  He would not mention ONRC but he did have Tim on stage wowing them 70,000 strong

The focus that Tim brought to Eastern Oregon its wildlands and its forests is a rare thing indeed. In it for the long haul, he worked his way from a powerful voice for the magnificent forests of Ponderosa pine that cloak much of the interior, to an advocate for the collaboration necessary to make informed management a reality. He understood what had been lost in the orgy of overcutting that decimated those forests and he was willing to work so that others could see that and start to redress the imbalance. Tim embodied what it means to live in the environment instead of off of it. Tough to lose him but a treasure to have known.

thank you tim for your inspiration, your dedication, your tenacity, your support, your optimistic and never-ending outlook and your willingness to stand up for what you and others believe in. it has been a joy to know you over these past number of years and to learn how to be humble, giving and strong in resolve. you are missed. my kids still talk about your photos of bears and bear tracks. our hearts go out to karen during this difficult time. ho mitakuye oyasin

I was priviliged to be part of those early OWC days. Tim was such a huge part of creating an organization dedicated to saving and protecting wild places. He introduced me to the big old "yellow belly" pines. His gentle style just left you wanting to spend more time with him out on the landscape. He earned my respect and admiration over and over. He was a dear old friend and I learned as much from him as from anyone I have ever met. There are a lot of wild and special places and a lot of big old yellow bellies that would not be wild were it not for him. His legacy lives on in those places and in the wind through those old yellow bellies.

Tim, you went out in a flash, a good way to go, I agree... but did you have to leave us so soon? You are deeply loved and missed. Thank you for speaking for the trees for the flowers for the wildlife for the microorganisms, for they have no tongues.

Good bye old friend. Oregon's wild country had no better pal than Tim Lillebo. Man, those old OWC days -- Monteith, the schemer; Kerr, the strategist; Lillebo, the heart. Absolutely unbeatable team. The best. Tim worked for $200 a month back then, when he was paid. But everyone knew it was the second paycheck he really worked for -- the wild Strawberries, a gin-clear North Fork of the John Day, those big orange trees. It's been years, but the memories of Tim are like yesterday. That time talking to those black bear cubs for hours in that big ponderosa in the Blue Mountains, nervously looking over our shoulders for mom. Starving during some excursion or another driving across some half-assed roads in the Ochocos, when you remembered that half-eaten sandwich under the seat, probably been there a week. Pick off the green stuff, eat the rest. Wetting a line in the Wenaha. How about the mule deer hunt in Montana, when we didn't find that mossy-horned buck, but we did figure out how to creatively deal with three flat retread tires in my piece of crap truck before we limped into Philipsburg for cold beer. I am glad you got to float the Noatak. That you survived clearly means you didn't take my advice about the bears. You will be missed more than you know. Thanks, Tim.

We were on day 5 of a 7 day sail in the Virgin Islands, BVI, when Timmy popped up from his and Karen's cabin below with a well used plastic bag filled with something.. " Tim, I said, what do you have there?" He quickly offered me a bit of Angelena's bagels from Sisters, Oregon. I turned down his generous offer and we proceeded to discuss how they had traveled thousands of miles and now lived below deck in extreme heat. With a little laugh, he admitted that he was most proud of the fact that he had bought them at a discount because they were "day old" bagels. Then I commented on the plastic bag saying it looked like it had been around awhile. Yes, he admitted, he had it for many years and it had traveled to Costa Rica and Mexico as well as other places with him.
Timmy you are my environmental, leave-no-trace-behind forever friend and hero!

I met Tim in a tiny house in Prineville in 1978, where he had come to organize an environmental group. He was vibrant and passionate and able to inspire people. As the years went on, we became close friends, then old friends, then full of old memories of our youth. He was always there for me when I needed inspiration or a good kick in the butt. I sit here now, with some mementos that I pulled out of storage, stunned that he has passed too soon. I remember the unapologetic advocate for wilderness. I remember the time we spent together. I remember that he always wanted to see over the next ridge, or the big trees in the next grove. I remember the old, half-rotten cheese he would pull from his pocket and feed me when I got hungry. I remember the ever-present winter fire in his fireplace in Prairie City. I remember so much about him that is good and endearing. He will be more than missed.

Tim was everything Oregon.
He is beside every Ponderosa tree and will be missed by everyone he touched. Good bye friend.

Tim was a man whose eyes reached out and grabbed you with a sparkle and hearty welcome— like a hug— signifying a person of large soul. His love of nature and wildlands came from a heart who knew its mother and didnt' turn his back on her. A natural man, and one who devoted the majority of his life to protecting the forests we all love. Thank you for your years of commitment, Tim. You are missed and not forgotten.

Tim - will you be hiking Home Creek for eternity? I'll always expect to bump into you on some trail. You'll live on in the trees and sagebrush country you helped to protect. I will not forget you.

Lillebo was such a remarkable asset to the human family it is objectionable that he has left us. The tall, thick, old yellowbellies of the eastside have lost an essential advocate. The Oregon landscape was more vibrant and hopeful with him; his easy going passion for Nature is not silenced for it lives in each of us inspired by him to carry on in our own way

They broke the mold after they made Tim. His charisma lit the room. His personality sparkled just like his eyes. But it was Tim's personality combined with his deep knowledge of the land, passion for it's protection, and understanding of land management policy and practice that made him unique. There are others who know law, or policy or plans. But nobody, aside from a very few of Tim's longterm friends in eastern Oregon, combine that knowledge with intimate connection and knowledge of the landscape in which they live. With Tim's death, an era has passed.

A couple of days before he died I was driving to work and I'm afraid I took a cell call. I heard some honking and looked at the car in the passing lane. Saw a wagging finger and above it Tim's shit-eating grin.

Can't believe that the effects of last week's deluge of a storm have evaporated but carried him away.

Many cultures bury the dead with the things they will need in the after-life. Rest assured that Tim left with food in his pockets.

No one else could have done what Tim did. Being an advocate for wilderness and ecosystems in eastern Oregon takes more than determination, it takes courage, wisdom and tact. His enduring, persevering work gave us the positive presence that not even the most radical anti-protection character could discredit.

Everything he and Karen went through as local residents- from hostilities at the tavern to having the County order them to tear down their half-built house out of misguided vindictiveness- none of it ever turned Tim or Karen to bitterness or despair.

It was tough for the political detractors to deal with the guy who was pleasant to everyone, could talk to anyone, was way smarter than everyone else in the room, and whose convictions even inspired those who disagreed with his positions.

For those of us who did agree with him, and had the high honor of working with him, he was the most subtle mentor, the truest friend, and the bravest heart.

And the best way we can honor his legacy is by continuing his work and honoring him with another intact piece of protected wild land in the place he labored so selflessly to safeguard for us all.

Oh, you rascal, Tim. Dag nab it. I can't believe it. I don't want to believe that you are gone. You have been an articulate, well-informed and wise champion of wild and wonderful Oregon and a warm, witty, rambunctious human being. I remember watching you and Karen dancing so joyously together. Your sweet love for Karen was beautiful. And her love for you so beautiful too. I remember our 12-mile hike (that was advertised as 4!). I remember your wonderful smile and friendly ways. The world is less without you. You have been a joyful noise in our world. You will be sorely missed. Thank you for the gift of you.

TIm was the bridge that allowed idealism and a love of Wilderness to become reality in a careless World that doesn't easily allow for saving good things for our children's children. We need more like him

Keep close to Natures Heart....... That was the message he preached and lived. Wash your spirt clean...... You are free.

Tim was truly one of a kind. I was always amazed at how well he knew eastern Oregon's wildlands. You could ask him about any spur road across a 10 million acre landscape and he would know if it had been logged, if there were any good camping spots, was there any nice old-growth and everything else about it.

I remember when I first started at Oregon Wild in the 90's as a volunteer and Tim was mentoring me on identifying and inventorying areas that qualified for Wilderness protection. That he could answer every question about every place I asked seemed impossible. We played this game a couple of times where I would bring up a black & white aerial photo of who knows where obscure area on some national forest in eastern Oregon and every time with no clues or labeled landmarks he would know exactly where we were looking at.

I am so lucky to have been able to learn from him, be inspired by him, and to have had him as a friend.

Tim was a hero of mine for the last 20 years, and a major reason why I wanted to move to Oregon and work for Oregon Wild. He was a colleague, a friend, a mentor, and an inspiration.

Several years ago, he and I took two Boise Cascade logging executives on a tour of his Glaze Meadow restoration project in the Deschutes National Forest. Tim showed up in classic form, in his green Toyota pickup and wearing his battered hat and waving around an old green camp mug. The Boise guys showed up in a giant diesel truck, with their arms crossed over their chests and expressions that said they were not interested in hearing anything we had to say.

Over the course of the day, Tim worked his magic. He talked hunting with one, comparing notes on elk, deer, and turkey. The other guy was only concerned about the bottom line and how projects like Glaze fitted into timber volume and feeding the mill. Tim could talk his language, and walked him through technical thinning prescriptions and projected economic outcomes. I mostly just stood back and tried to stay out of the way. 

By the end of the day those two Boise execs were slapping Tim on the back and cracking jokes like old friends. We shared beers on the tail gate of Tim's pickup, and talked about life outside of the battles over logging and conservation. I was in awe of his ability to bridge the divide with those two men, and to create a connection where they could hear his point of view and know he was hearing theirs.

That was Tim Lillebo’s magic, the unique gift that made him both such a delight to be around and such a formidable advocate for wildlands, wild rivers, and wild life. His legacy will live on in the forests, waters, and canyons that he worked so hard to protect, in the spirit of the organization he helped build, and in the hearts and minds of the people he touched and inspired.