This is in regard to Harold:
In reflection, I first ran across this man when I was living out at the Indian Ranch which would be around 1984/1985 or there about. I was out in front of my trailer under the veranda having a nice cool beer on a hot summer day and thinking about going for a dip in the swimming pool there when I noted a rustling of the birds and saw that they were flying in all directions. In the midst of the commotion, I noticed a strange looking apparition lurking among the trees and brush. It was a canvas home-built, camouflage-covered, stand-up sort of a box with a black hole in it. It was just sitting there. The box remained in one spot for perhaps 2 minutes when all of a sudden it moved!
Well what the heck was that, I thought as I had another pull off a cool beer. Was I seeing things or what? Perhaps I needed another beer, I thought as I promptly got one. Upon closer inspection, it turned out that there were two legs showing underneath the box which stopped suddenly as if it knew I had spotted it. The box turned out to be Mr. Ericsson who I aptly named “Birdman” for he was the culprit in the box on that hot summer day. You see, he was out doing his favorite thing which was to photograph birds; thus the name.
Birdman will be missed by all of his desert pals, both deceased and those who are living. Birdman appeared in many of the stories that I have written in regards to the Panamint Valley, namely Indian Ranch and Ballarat, CA.
Our condolences to Harold's family, as we knew him well...
Patrick and Jenny Hannan