AN ONGOING SERIES — HUMAN INTEREST FEATURE

Why Idaho Is Number One

Part 1 of an Ongoing Series

From a childhood photograph to a life built in the wilderness — one man’s journey to find his place in Idaho.

A Picture Worth a Thousand Miles

Around December of 1963, standing outside his parents’ best friend Red’s house, a young boy’s future quietly took shape. His father showed him a photograph — a simple black-and-white image of two men standing in front of a bar in Dixie, Idaho. They looked rugged, happy, and completely at home in the wilderness. Something about that picture grabbed him in a way he could not yet articulate.

“Idaho… that’s where I’m going when I get old enough,” he told himself quietly. It was not a loud declaration. No one else heard it. But it stuck.

As the years passed — through school, sports, and all the usual distractions of growing up — Idaho remained in the back of his mind. The idea was not yet fully formed, just a feeling: wide-open country, hard-working people, and a place where a person could build a life from the ground up. Looking back, that picture outside Red’s house was the first seed planted, one that would quietly shape more of his future than he ever realized at the time.

The Degree and the Dream

After many years of hard work and dedication, he graduated in August of 1980 from Western States Chiropractic College in Portland, Oregon. Walking across that stage, he felt equal parts excitement and uncertainty. He had earned a degree and a profession — but he still needed to find his place in the world.

When the opportunity came to take his first job with a chiropractor in Blackfoot, Idaho, it felt like that old childhood promise was finally beginning to come true. He was heading to Idaho, just as he had declared years before.

But his first position in Blackfoot taught him difficult lessons. After six months, it became clear the situation was not a good fit. Their approaches and expectations were simply too different, and he knew deep down that he needed an environment where he could grow in his own way. He spent the next four months trying to open his own office in Blackfoot — and discovered quickly that having a degree is not the same as knowing how to run a practice. Business experience, marketing savvy, and confidence were skills he had not yet developed. It was a humbling realization, but an important one.

Lewiston, Listening, and a Town Called Orofino

When the Blackfoot plan did not come together, he kept looking for another path forward. He found it in Lewiston, Idaho, where a chiropractor offered him a position with an agreement to purchase the practice after two years. It felt like a fresh start and a far more realistic way to learn how a successful office truly operated.

During those years in Lewiston, he paid close attention to his patients — where they came from, what they did for a living, and what kinds of communities they represented. He listened carefully, and what he heard began to paint a picture. A significant number of patients were making the drive from a small town called Orofino. They were willing to travel for care, but those trips demanded time and effort. The more he spoke with them, the more he sensed an unmet need in their own community. A new idea began to take shape: perhaps Orofino was where he was really meant to build his practice.

He decided to take the risk. Working two days a week in Orofino — Tuesday and Thursday afternoons — he went to the local bank and borrowed $4,000. At that point in his life, that felt like a very large sum of money. With it, he set up shop in the first two rooms on the second floor of the post office building. The space was simple: nothing fancy, just enough room for an adjusting table, some basic equipment, and a small waiting area. But to him, it represented possibility and independence.

For the next year, he worked part-time in both Lewiston and Orofino, putting in six days a week and adding more hours to the Orofino practice whenever he could. Those were long, demanding days — driving between towns, seeing patients, handling paperwork, and slowly building a reputation in a community where he was still “the new doctor.” There were times he was exhausted. But there was also a growing sense of progress. Each week, a few more people came through the door. Word of mouth spread. Orofino was beginning to feel like home.

Roots, Family, and the Life He Built

In 1985, he took the next big step: he moved his family — his wife and their daughter — to Orofino. That decision was more than a change of address. It was a commitment to the community and to the life they wanted to build together. They settled into a small-town rhythm: school events, local gatherings, getting to know neighbors, and watching the practice grow season by season.

His wife helped keep everything grounded, and their daughter gave them a daily reminder of why the long hours and hard work mattered. The move marked the beginning of many years of change, challenges, and growth — both personally and professionally.

Idaho had gone from a picture in his childhood to the landscape of his everyday life. The people, the small towns, the miles driven between Lewiston and Orofino, and the risk of starting over in two small rooms above a post office — all of it had become threads woven into the fabric of who he was, and why Idaho, above all other places, is number one.

►  More to Follow

Part 2 continues as the journey in Idaho unfolds into the later chapters of practice, community, and family life.