about Paul Campbell

I still remember when we first met. I’d already had his book, “Survival Skills of Native California,” and loved it. Janet Snyder called me one day and informed me that she, Paul, and I would be having lunch that day at a nearby Mexican restaurant.

“He’s someone you should know,” Janet told me.

I had chile relleno, and I don’t recall what Paul or Janet had, but Paul and I quickly became close friends.

When I visited Paul today, I could help but think to myself what a remarkable and true friend he has been. Not just to me, but to so many of us.

Paul laid in his hospital bed in his home, and we chatted briefly, like usual. I rubbed some soil on his hands and forehead from the El Santuario de Chimayo in New Mexico. He smiled, willingly, maybe not approvingly, just letting a friend make a gesture with something that makes the friend feel good. We laughed. I told Paul that I have a new “obvious handstone” to show him when I visit next time. Paul laughs with resignation, too tired to even mock me.

As usual, I leave the room when he tells me that he’s tired, and to come back another day.
I go and sit with Arpy (wife) and Drew (brother) and we talk about Paul and laugh while we sip iced gingerale. When I leave, as usual, Arpy is nearly in tears, and she whispers a doctor’s diagnois to me.

In all these years, I was happy when Paul invited me to join one of his field trips, or when he decided to show up for one of my classes. Paul always tried to make me feel important, telling me how much he learned, and how he finally got to see some plant that he’d only heard about. Yet I always felt that I was at the feet of the master, taking in each new skill when Paul felt like sharing it, like a snap-up snare, or a quick willow bow, or an atlatl and dart from Arundo.

Through the years, though I never told Paul, I looked up to him like an elder grandfather, in much the same way that Alan and I have regarded Dude.

Each time I’ve visited Paul these last few months, I’ve watched that body shrivel, and it’s made me realize that Paul will no longer show up during a bow class and share some new bit of wisdom.

I’ve noticed that I have felt slow and dark these last few months, not caring about things as much as I should, and not placing too much important in the mundane things. I realize that it’s all about Paul,and it’s that same familiar feeling when someone you know and love is gone and the world seems a darker place. Paul is dying and part of me is dying too – sort of. Yet, Paul is inside of me now, and so Paul will live on – sort of.

Each time I visit Paul, there is family and friends present, and it’s almost festive at the Campbell household, though it’s not. Part of me feels honored at playing some minor role in this drama’s final scene.

Though I constantly think of Paul as “older,” it dawns on me that our age difference is not that great. And then I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when I think of Dude McLean’s old saying: “I am much too old to be this immature!”

After his surgery 17 months or so ago, Paul began to read, and read even more intently. He kept talking to me about my “Guide to Wild Foods” book, and he loved the manuscript for “Foraging California” so much that I had him write the foreword. He loved my un-released “Nuts and Berries of California” manuscript, and I used many of his suggetions in the book.

And while he has tried to make me feel good, I know that it is Paul who has been the real master, with each book he’s written at doctorate level, even though he has eschewed any academic recognition. A humble giant.
Besides the “Survival Skills” book, he also wrote the “Paints and Pigments” book and the “Universal Tool Kit” book – already timeless classics. Not widely known is his earlier book where he attempted to find the correct correlation between our Western calendar and the Mayan calendar.

Today Paul seemed mentally alert, though he didn’t have the strength to talk long. Yet, we laughed, and he told me to tell certain people that he loved them – Helen, Dude, both Alans (Cornell and Halcon)… I was glad I took the time to visit my old friend.

That’s my update for all of you who continue to ask “How is Paul?”