Logging Was His Life And Death

BUCKLEY, Pierce County - Paul Wytko was a logger to the core, just like his father and grandfather. He woke up at 4:30 every morning in this town southwest of Enumclaw, put on jeans and a tin hat, and headed for the mountains.

For two decades, he earned his living among fresh pitch and chain-saw grease. For two decades, his wife, Cecelia, worried about the dangers of his job.

Lately, she would tell him he was too old to be running around those big trees. But Wytko, 46, who could do it better than most men in their 20s, loved the woods too much.

Last week, Wytko's life ended instantly in a freak logging accident on Grass Mountain near Enumclaw.

It not only stole a father of two teenage children, a dedicated husband, a son and brother, but it also was another awful reminder to this small community of the perilous profession many are still connected to.

This morning, there will be a moment of silence for Wytko before the 23rd annual Loggers' Rodeo.

The rodeo - Buckley's biggest social event - showcases log rolling, speed climbing and ax throwing.

Later, Wytko's name will be added to the Loggers Memorial in the center of town, joining Ron Bowen Sr. and Ron Bowen Jr. and Fred Arsanto and Wally Aden and all the other loggers killed by their work.

These days, the timber business in the state is a splinter of what it used to be.

Pressure from environmental groups, along with dwindling resources, have slowed it down.

But 2,819 loggers, mostly men, still cut timber for a living. Figures from the state Department of Labor and Industries indicate it's the most dangerous profession in the state.

In the past five years, logging accidents have killed 43 people. In that same period, 10,092 injury claims have been filed with the state.

Amid numbers and statistics, there is the ache of reality when it hits home.

Cecelia Wytko said that many times she begged her husband to look for another line of work.

"He'd appease me and fill out an application for another job, but he'd never send it in," she said. "He couldn't stand the thought of being away from the outdoors."

Wytko knew the dangers of his job. His uncle, Mike Wytko, died in the woods in 1958 while logging.

Wytko suffered several injuries. He once accidentally sawed deep into his shin with a chain saw, and another time he injured his eye.

"There are better ways to make a living," said John Wytko, Paul's younger brother, who quit logging years ago. "It's a dangerous business, but it gets in your blood and once it does, you can't get it out."

Loggers work in crews of six and seven men, relying on one another for survival among towering hemlock and fir trees.

At the team competition at the Loggers' Rodeo this weekend, Wytko's 19-year-old son, Tony, will take his place on his crew.

Different crews all know one another. And news travels fast in the woods - especially bad news.

On the afternoon Wytko was struck down, logging crews in the area passed word of the accident to other crews by Citizens Band radio:

A 2-inch cable holding up a logging tower snapped and whirled in the air like a serpent. Hearing the pop, loggers ran for cover.

A piece of the cable hit Wytko on the back of the head, killing him instantly.

Soon, CB radios were crackling.

When Jim Arsanto heard it over his CB radio, painful memories came back.

Arsanto learned of his brother Fred's logging death in 1982 from two loggers talking on their CB radios.

Last week, Arsanto, who is a Buckley police officer but was off-duty at the time, drove directly to Paul Wytko's parents' house.

"I didn't want somebody walking down the street saying that it was a shame about their son before they even knew," Arsanto said.

Five hundred people - including the town's doctors, lawyers, shop owners, police officers, firefighters, friends and loggers - crammed into the local Presbyterian church for Wytko's funeral on Tuesday.

"We're all one family," said John Blanusa, 71, an ex-logger and mayor of Buckley, a town of 3,000. "When a guy dies in the woods, the hurt stays with you forever."