The Lumberjack



Students Serving The Cal Poly Humboldt Campus and Community Since 1929

Tag: obituary

  • Beloved student Camile Nauta dies at 21

    Beloved student Camile Nauta dies at 21

    By August Linton

    Camile Nauta, a beloved CPH student and community member, was hit by a truck and killed while out walking their dog Wilson with friend Rune Kubbany on Jan. 17. Wilson was also killed in the accident, and Kubbany was hospitalized. Nauta was 21 years old. 

    They are already sorely missed by everyone who knew them. They were enigmatic and whimsical, described by many that knew them as a ‘fairy,’ a ‘cowboy,’ or a ‘forest creature.’

    They’re remembered by everyone who knew them as a kind, quiet person, who sometimes came off as standoffish just because they were shy. They had a unique ability to make people comfortable and to bring out that joy in others, which they also reveled in. 

    Multiple people remember them for the silly accents that they loved to perform. They were an animal lover and a vegan. Taro smoothies, lying in the sun and spending time in nature were other things that Nauta loved.

    Student Holly Ford described how familiar a part of the CPH world Nauta was.

    “They’d walk through the forest and everyone knew them,” said Ford. 

    Dorm-mate Tommy Broedner remembers the quiet companionship that they shared with Nauta when they met in the kitchen, and many people mention how much they loved coffee. Girlfriend Elizabeth Edens describes them as constantly jittering.

    “There’s not coffee grounds on the counter anymore,” Broedner said.

    Nauta posing with a camera at College Cove during the first semester of their sophomore year, in 2020

    Grayson Ford remembers how Nauta waited for them when they fell behind on walks in the forest. Others said how Nauta’s energy and compassion made them feel comfortable dancing at shows, something that Nauta was known to do with abandon. 

    Being a part of punk and local music subculture was important to Nauta. They were a regular at the Arcata music venue Blondies, went to various house shows, and loved dancing and moshing. 

    Edens went with Nauta to many local shows. 

    “They enjoyed being in the mosh pit a lot, they talked about it being like therapy for them,” Edens said. “They were always beautiful, it was great to see them in the pit because they’d always be having fun even on their own.”

    People loved and were sometimes, at-first, almost intimidated by their intricate facial piercings, bright green mullet-hawk and patched clothes. The combination of a punk exterior and compassionate, loving interior is what defined their image.

    “They styled themself as if they were a punk little forest goblin who occasionally engaged in witchcraft,” said their sibling, Lily Nauta. Nauta had a very close relationship with their sibling, who many described as their best friend. 

    They broke their arm in the mosh pit at a “Days N’ Daze” show, and sported a scar on their shoulder for the rest of their life. 

    Being queer and non-binary identity were very important to Nauta. They wore queerness on their sleeve, and found kinship, community, and love in the Humboldt queer community. The small size of this group in Humboldt is one reason why Nauta’s absence stings so keenly. They were known by most in the community.

    “They were the best cheerleader for people finding their true gender identity and celebrated all of the things dominant culture shames queer people for,” Lily Nauta said. “They reclaimed it all and helped others do the same. They were the best lil nonbinary twink a guy could have the pleasure of knowing.”

    A psychology major, Nauta was involved in many different programs at CPH. They were the first student intern from the school at local organization Queer Humboldt, where they helped to start a Discord chat server so queer people around the area could connect with each other.

    Queer outreach was very important to Nauta, and they also worked on the Historic InQUEERies project teaching the queer history of  historic people to classes in those related fields.

    Nauta was always with their dog Wilson, who also was killed in the accident. Whenever possible, they were always together, whether in the forest, at school, or around town. After they got him in Summer 2022, his presence helped Nauta open up, according to roommate Shayne Jarvie. 

    “They started to kinda come out of their shell and be super goofy with everyone,” Jarvie said. “Everyone loved Wilson and Wilson loved everyone.”

    “[Wilson and Nauta] were both each-other’s emotional support animals,” Edens said.

    Nauta was very close with their family, whom they always nurtured. Their mother Lisa Nauta described how they nursed her back to health while she had COVID-19.

    “Me, Lily, and Camile, we used to call each-other the three peas,” Lisa Nauta said. “They’ve always been a hugger, always giving love.”

    “They’d offer to make the whole family tea nearly every night,” Lily Nauta said. “Words can’t describe how heartbroken we are and how much we’ll miss them.”

    The natural world was one of Nauta’s loves. They spent much of their time in the forests surrounding campus or on the local beaches with friends. They found themself in nature. Jarvie said that Nauta was at peace while digging in the dirt, and feeling the sun. 

    At a Jan. 24 memorial held for them on campus, mourners braved the winter cold to gather outside.

    Friend Charlie Deible spoke about Wilson at the memorial, stating that it’s what Camile would have wanted.

    Many who knew them spoke while the sun set, and several stated that they will always see Nauta in the trees and in the stars.

    “I can not imagine a more practical place for them to be than up hiding in the cracks and ridges of the trees,” Lily Nauta said. “Please continue to visit them and Wilson in the trees.”

    Camile Nauta at Sue-Meg park in 2021, post-leaf coronation
  • Campus Community Remembers Local Legend

    Campus Community Remembers Local Legend

    by Kris Nagel and Ollie Hancock

    Ricky Smith, a longtime Arcata community member, was the victim of a deadly assault Wednesday, February 2. The community has spent the last week remembering Smith’s legacy. Known for his big smiles and peace-loving attitude, Smith regularly took to the corner of 17th and G Streets where the assault took place.

    Photo by Morgan Hancock | Community members gather at the corner of G St and 17th St.

    Community members set up a memorial where Smith would spend his days playing songs for passersby. In the days since, the corner has seen people stopping by to share stories of the well-known busker and leave gifts around framed photos.

    Reports say that Smith was killed in a confrontation near the 17th Street footbridge around 5:30 p.m. Although CPR was attempted by two bystanders, he was unresponsive when police arrived on scene. Life saving efforts continued but Smith was pronounced dead shortly after being transported to Mad River Hospital.

    Smith was confirmed dead by Arcata Police the following morning. A 50-year-old Arcata resident was arrested at the scene and taken into custody and booked into the Humboldt County Correctional Facility for murder according to the Thursday press release.

    Photo by Kris Nagel | Arcata resident Ricky Smith plays his guitar on the corner of 17th St and G St on April 28, 2021.

    Smith’s daughter, Sara Smith, has set up a Facebook page for people to share memories of her father. A recent post on the page from Sara shows a note Ricky had made for himself, “Your attitude almost always determines your altitude in life.”

    Ricky Smith was known best for his kind smile, passionate songs, and place in the community reminding us to be good to one another. Though some memories are brighter than others, this moment of loss has brought many in the community to grieve the corner left vacant in Ricky’s absence.

  • Obituary Of A Snake

    Obituary Of A Snake

    Goodbye, Cruel World

    I found you dead this morning. You had a tragic and undignified death. I only hope you were dead, or at least unconscious before being caught in a tire wheel and thrown back onto the road.

    I do not know if you had a name, or even if snakes understand the concept of names. I hope it’s alright if I call you Billy.

    From what the internet tells me, you were either a Northwestern garter snake or a red-sided garter snake. You had bold yellow stripes running down your tail/body/spine, and big, dead eyes that were empty of the spark of life that was so cruelly taken from you. You were a bit over 6 inches, not a big snake but you were not tiny.

    What were your accomplishments? We may never know. Did you eat a lot of slugs, or did you have a preference for amphibians? What was your favorite food, Billy? Did you prefer to coil and strike in defense, or slip into the creek?

    As I was staring into the eye sockets of my skeleton bobblehead, I was reminded that death can be a beautiful thing. Death is a transition into a new life. Mourning is a time to remember who you were, and who you can be in your next life.

    You lived and died in a college, arguably a modern-day Acropolis, much like your ancestor, the sacred snake of Athens. The sacred snake stood guard in Athena’s temple, receiving gifts of honey cakes until they sensed the Persians coming and fled as a warning.

    Are you warning us of something, Billy? That cars will be the death of us all, most certainly by climate change, but also by the crushing wheel of modern society?

    I resolve to make you mean something. Your life was meaningful, perhaps not by human standards. But as a snake, it was your job to consume plant-eating creatures, thus protecting the small plants that make Humboldt beautiful.

    The humans will laugh at my grief. You were a snake, and a large percentage of them feared you without cause. Though your bite was inconvenient at best, you were small, so small that I doubt you were fully grown. I grieve not only for the death of a wild animal but a newly-hatched one.

    You were not a bird, a rabbit, or a deer. You were not what is commonly considered “cute.” Yet, a live snake is exciting. How fast you used to move, how slick you must have felt! That power is gone now.

    Seeing you struck me with the irrelevance of human society. Why do humans drive cars, except for human reasons? Birds fly, rabbits hop, and snakes slither. That’s all the transport you need. Humans can’t make enough money unless they move beyond the capacity of legs. Money doesn’t make sense to anyone who isn’t human!

    Billy, I hope you find peace. But I know you most likely won’t. Cars may become completely electric, but the system that makes driving a daily occurrence continues.

  • Lost Lumberjacks

    Lost Lumberjacks

    By Curran C. Daly

    Sadly, a few members of the Lumberjack family will not be returning to HSU this fall.

    John Vayo

    John Vayo_Web
    Photo provided by Humboldt Area Center for Harm Reduction Facebook page.

    John Vayo passed away on July 2, 2017. He was entering his last year in the undergraduate Social Work program.

    “John struck me as a ‘would give you the shirt of his back’ kind of person—this is not a phrase I use very often—I found that hopeful and inspiring. John was deeply committed to the values and practices of harm reduction and, though he had already done a lot of good, would have gone on to shape our human service community in seriously positive ways,” said Ronnie Swartz, Social Work department chair and a personal friend of Vayo’s.

    Vayo will be missed around campus and in the community. He was an avid outdoorsman and volunteered with the Humboldt Area Center for Harm Reduction. Vayo is survived by his son Aiden. Vayo was 38 years-old.

    Michelle Lane

    Michelle Lane, Business, professor, portrait,
    Photo provided by Humboldt State Business Department.

    Michelle Lane passed away on August 7, 2017. She was an Associate Professor in the university’s School of Business.

    “Michelle was very pleasant and always smiling. She was always helping students and faculty beyond what was necessary,” said Hari Signh, professor and department chair of the School of Business. “Her most important legacy was helping the students succeed.”

    Lane helped launch the M.B.A. program for the School of Business five years ago. She was a big advocate for sustainability. Lane loved animals and was on the Board of Directors for the Sequoia Humane Society. She is survived by her husband, three children and three grandchildren.