Lisa,

Four days before I was removed from Honeyman, a man approached me while I was cleaning the yurts.

He was not in uniform. He offered no name. He carried no identification.

He said he was with the park service and that he was taking photos of the yurts — while they were still dirty, mid-clean, with all doors propped open.

Then, without transition, he pressed me — hard and fast — with direct personal questions:

How do you like the park?

How are you being treated here?

Is the leadership treating you well?

This was not casual.

It was not polite.

It was a calculated psychological pressure test, delivered by a stranger while I was isolated and working. And while all the rangers were away for a regional event.

I recognized it in real time. It was disorienting — because it was meant to be. It didn’t read like routine oversight. It read like a probe. It read like aggression. When I didn’t answer, he asked again — reframed the question, stepped in closer. It was intimate.
And it was forced. 

I asked [Park Supervisor] about it because I wanted it documented (see attached thread). I understood what this was. She had an immediate justification: he was “from I.T.” taking photos for site documentation. She praised how I “handled it.”

That wasn’t a reassurance. That was a confirmation that I’d been observed and evaluated — and that the probe had failed to elicit the intended response.

Let’s name what this was:

There is no public record of these photos ever being used.

There is no traceable operational need for unannounced photo capture during an active clean.

There was no follow-up, no supervisor debrief, no procedural accountability.

Just [Park Supervisor] — tying off the thread as quickly as possible.

It was a setup. It failed.

And within DAYS, I was removed from my role — using a homeless man’s journal as pretext.

The irony is grotesque.

So I’ll ask directly:

Do those photos exist?

Were they ever published?

Was this encounter logged anywhere in your internal systems?

Because if not, you now have something far worse than negligence.

You have a covert institutional tactic used against a volunteer — followed by a pattern of containment and silence.

Something I endured for two months. I just wanted to get through my time there so I could move onto the other parks in my trajectory. [Park Supervisor] knew that. [Park Manager] knew that. And that's why they were trying so hard to frame me as a problem. It's why they removed me
when I only had ONE SHIFT LEFT.

This is what [Park Supervisor] did to someone who was doing his job.

Unpaid. Alone. Professional.

And this is what [Program Manager] did in response: nothing.

No inquiry. No accountability. Just silence.

That silence is now part of the record.

And so is this message.

You’ve left the same people in charge at your flagship campground — even after direct, documented, and now expanded evidence of unethical conduct.

What happened at Honeyman is not behind you.

It is with you now.

And every day you choose not to act becomes part of the breach.

I know you don't want to hear from me. I know the institutional reflex to frame this as obsession. This is not that. I need you to be an ethical leader.

Find a way.

—Sam

https://rswfire.com/honeyman