Helen Higby

 I was born in 1946 in Ogdensburg, New York, which is on the bank of the St. Lawrence River. "The River" is part of the U.S. border with Canada. My mother's folks were French Canadian. She knew her prayers in French before she knew them in English.

  When I was growing up, Ogdensburg had a population of about 16,000. By New York standards, that was pretty small. My father was a doctor, which meant everybody knew who my 4 siblings and I were, which meant if we got into any mischief our parents knew about it before we got home.

  I went to Barnard College, the women's college affiliated with Columbia University in New York City. I majored in Geology because it gave me a way to get out of the City occasionally. When I graduated in 1968 I vowed never to return to that place I had hated for 4 years.

  In August I came to NOLS. The school was so new that its founder, Paul Petzoldt, still personally led the courses. My fellow students and I learned how to be outstanding campers - it rained or snowed 3 out of every 4 days on our course.

  After NOLS, a girl friend and I moved to Denver.  We had grown up 2½ blocks apart.  I had more fun that year than any other in my life. I worked as a research assistant for a micro-paleontologist at the Colorado School of Mines, when I wasn’t playing.

  In an effort to publicize NOLS, Petzoldt was leading winter expeditions on the Grand Teton, trying to summit on New Year's Day. I joined the 1968-69 attempt, and went again in '69-'70. That is where I met my husband, Larry.

  Larry and I were married January 23, 1971. He was considerably older than me, which is how I came to join a household with 3 teenagers.

  Shortly later, I started my library career. I was hired to shelve books in the original Carnegie building. Then I progressed to adult services, then Lander Librarian, then the branches were added to my responsibilities. During summers from 1978-1980 I attended the graduate school of Librarianship at University of Denver. In 1983 I left the Lander Library to work for the Wyoming State Library as its state-wide consultant. I commuted home on weekends.

  In 1986, I was hired as the Sweetwater County Library Director with headquarters in the county seat, Green River. My single directive was to create a bona fide system out of 3 main libraries, 5 rural branches, a bookmobile, and a fine arts center. My experience as stepmother to 3 teenagers helped to prepare me. I continued to commute on weekends, but the distance was cut about in half.

  During my 15 years in Sweetwater County, the Library System's annual budget averaged about $2.2 million. Each month I signed about 80 payroll checks. We progressed from the staffs in Rock Springs and Green River hating each other, and the staffs in the rural branches feeling isolated and neglected to a cohesive group that worked together and took pride in their organization. We standardized the number of hours in a work week, developed position descriptions, and standardized pay for people doing the same jobs in different buildings. And I began sprouting grey hairs.

  It is still satisfying to know I accomplished what I was hired to do.

  But happy was the day, September 30, 2001, when Larry arrived in Green River with 4 of our Morgan horses, and we saddled up and rode home.

  For the next 2½ years I was able to live, full-time, the dream I had cherished since I was about 9 or 10 years old, of having a dog, a horse, and a cowboy.

  Larry died on March 26, 2001, from injuries incurred in a car accident.

  The primary part of the dream ended, but I still have a dog and 4 horses. And as of August 1, 2013, I own, free-and-clear, 4 acres on Hillcrest Drive.

  I am active in the parish of Holy Rosary Catholic Church, the Lander Rotary Club, the Lander Community Concerts Association, and the Fremont County Republican Party.

P.S.

  We went on the New Year’s Teton climb again in ‘73-‘74, and I became the first woman to summit the Grand in the winter.  When people marvel at that feat, I tell them, “If you had had Larry Higby poking you in the butt with an ice ax every step of the way, you would have made it, too.”