Floyd Staley missed his senior all-night party in 1961, the year he graduated high school. Instead, he woke up at 3:30am to meet his ride near Cougar Reservoir, which would take him into the woods for a week of logging for Timber Cutters Inc. at $2 per hour. He proceeded to work 28 years at the Pope and Talbott sawmill just outside Oakridge, meanwhile raising his family, investing in property, and building a life. In 1988, Pope and Talbott responded to outcries over the endangered spotted owl by logging the last of its private timber and shutting down the mill. Today, Staley’s drives past the old industrial site, where the mill was to the burned and scrapped, are ensconced in memories of early mornings, sawdust and the hustle and bustle of a thriving industry.

Since then, Staley has watched Oakridge become a quiet town with an economy dependent on the seasonal attention of mountain bikers, hikers – and forest firefighters. During fire season, if the town gets lucky, the forests' flames draw crowds of firefighters to the town, resulting in a temporary economic boost. However, this is not enough to sustain the town year-round, and combined with the increasing threat of forest fires, most of the younger generation has moved away to establish careers elsewhere. Those who remain have established a hardworking lifestyle and tight-knit community built to endure.

Staley's dashboard décor is a memory of a friend and a reminder of his faith. Through economic hardships, reminders like this keep him centered.

The First Baptist Church of Oakridge is one of ten churches in the town. Staley attends multiple churches in Oakridge for a variety of services and perspectives.

Floyd Staley listens to the story of Lazarus at Sunday service, which he notes as the second most important Bible story. The church and people of Oakridge are part of his lifelong community.

Staley started recycling metal when he was 14, receiving 32 cents for a pound of copper. He remembers that a candy bar at the time cost 5 cents, and a soda about 10 cents. Retirement has left more time for his to pursue his life-long hobby. He collects scrap metal from local residents to recycle in his spare time. He earns roughly $2.50 per pound now.

Staley visits the junk yard often, where he collects metal scraps for his hobby.

One of Oakridge’s attractions is the Willamette Hatchery, where visitors can view and feed large trout and white sturgeon in the hatchery ponds. A museum, interpretive center, picnic area and salmon cycle golf course have been built at the site.

Another attraction is the Public House brewery in downtown Oakridge, which offers local brews, coffee and food to travelers and locals alike. In the summertime, firefighters flood into the pub to pass their hours off the job.

The metal clasp that now suspends a tire swing in Oakridge resident Dwayne Edwards' backyard was once used for falling trees during the thriving logging industry in Oakridge.

Oakridge residents like Edwards live in the shadow of the collapsed logging industry, and the hills of thick trees that make the town a forest fire hotspot. The economic reality of this situation is at times dire.

Old furniture and kick-knacks hide in the grass and shed behind Edwards’ home, remnants of days past on the property. Although smoke was visible in the surrounding hills during the recent fire season, his home was not directly threatened.

The family dog wanders Edwards’ house, as he and his wife work to renovate it. In addition to their nine kids that live in the house, family friends and neighbors often stop by to chat and work on cars in the yard, transforming the property into a social hub at times.

On her days off of school, a sixteen-year-old Oakridge girl enjoys time outside at Edwards’ property, fixing up cars.

Edwards’ modest house is home to a family of eleven.

Oakridge resident Phil and his wife evacuated their home at the Deception Creek Mobile Park during the Deception Creek fire in 2014. They navigated the smoky air while packing to their belongings into their car.

Fire crews stopped the fire before it reached the park, and residents returned, relieved. Retired, Phil collects rocks and has taken up photography. During the fire, he captured many images of the flaming hillside.

Phil has no plans to leave his home at the base of Deception Creek.

Post-fire season at the Deception Creek Mobile Park means inhabitants can likely erase the possibility of evacuation from their minds until next fire season. It also means the approach of winter, and a slow in the temporary economic boom of the summer.