Big Bear celebrity champion leaves $10 million

THE BIG BEAR – A sharp-winged bird swoops down from a Jeffrey pine tree and below, cheers erupt from a pontoon boat docked on Big Bear Lake.

A shadow, part of a famous eagle pair, drops a fish on her two growing chicks – something boaters can confirm thanks to the non-stop live feed of the nest.

It is a time of joy, yet there is sadness underneath. These viewers, including staff and volunteers from Friends of Big Bear Valley, will gather to honor Sandy Steers, the nonprofit's late director and the force behind its nest cam. At the same time, the organization is racing to raise $10 million by the end of July to protect much of the land along the north shore of the lake from being a gated community.

On Saturday, about 100 people gathered at Big Bear's Veterans Park to remember Steers, as the nearby lake sparkled and swallows skimmed the blue sky. The recording of the event has more than 53,000 views. More than a dozen speakers profiled the multifaceted Steers, a biologist who was 73 when he died of cancer in February: He took race car driving lessons, worked for NASA and, most notably, turned two eagles into an international phenomenon.

Perched atop a pine tree, eagles Jackie, left, and Shadow, right, tend to their young in their 5-foot-wide nest.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

Steers' fierce protection of the local environment began long before bald eagles had a digital sensibility. He was a founding member of a non-profit organization founded in 2001 to fight housing development called Moon Camp. That nonprofit organization would become the Friends of Big Bear Valley, which, all these years later, rallied to set up a similar project.

Shelley Egan, one of Steers' acting chief executive officers, called her predecessor a “Disney princess.” He explained, “It's not that he wore clothes and things like that, but he fed the animals, he fed the birds, inviting them to his balcony, his house, his hand.”

Others paint her as an opinionated woman who is willing to go to the mat for the creatures she has devoted her life to.

Tim Krantz, a professor emeritus at the University of Redlands, recalled being tapped along with Steers to be eagle expert witnesses in a lawsuit against a developer over a separate project.

Dressed in a bright pink dress and a warm smile, she “looked like the sweetest grandma ever,” he said. However, “judo completely cut down the team of lawyers who defended him. They didn't know how to deal with him.”

Joy Benedict, a reporter for CBS LA, met Steers a decade ago when she did her first story on Jackie, Shadow's partner. It was during this time that the nest cam was installed. He kept driving higher as the eagles released the news, attracted by the woman who had given them their platform.

“No one was more excited to see this family grow than Sandy,” said Benedict, recounting the moment Steers cried with joy when the three chicks hatched.

“But as I was talking to Sandy years ago about his favorite eagles, when I asked him about his personal life, he got sidetracked,” he added. “He said things like, 'I'm still waiting for my dignity,' and I said, 'So am I,' we laughed, and moved on. But after her death, I wish I could have gotten a little out of this woman we all loved.”

Friends of Big Bear Valley was preparing to launch a fundraiser for a 50- and 55-home waterfront project when Steers died. Last September, the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors approved Moon Camp. At the time, county officials insisted that the project would not harm the eagles, saying it had been “extensively tested in the environment” to ensure that.

But the not-for-profit organization insists Jackie and Shadow use the land as a prime feeding ground, and the development – less than a kilometer from their nest – would rob them of a rare piece of undeveloped forest in the bustling holiday resort.

In a 2018 Times article, a spokesperson for RCK Properties, which owns the land, called the project “really special,” adding that “there are a lot of people in Los Angeles and Orange counties who would like to build a home” there. According to the article, the design at the time prevented development in the hunting grounds around Eagle Lake.

Continuing without its dedicated leader, Friends of Big Bear Valley has raised more than $3.3 million to date, mostly through small donations. The Steers sought $50,000 for this purpose.

If all goes according to plan, the San Bernardino Mountains Land Trust will retain approximately 63 acres, with the option of transferring it to the US Forest Service.

Steve Foulkes, RCK's vice president, confirmed that the land trust has an option to buy the site for $10 million on July 31. He declined to comment on claims made by Friends of Big Bear Valley about the development.

Jenny Voisard, right, of Friends of Big Bear Valley, stares at a patch of trees, eager to check out the celebrity eagles that live near Big Bear Lake.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

If fundraising dwindles, land trusts can borrow more money, “which would be difficult,” or partner with another organization to buy the land, said Jenny Voisard, media and website manager for Friends of Big Bear Valley.

“Failure is not an option,” Voisard said. “We will not allow them to build on it.” In the morning, he pointed to the marshy shore and the endangered pine sea.

In the canopy of the Jeffrey pine, nature continues to move forward, oblivious to the changes and conflicts below. Jackie and Shadow's children – now grown by eagle standards – are hopping and flapping their wings as they prepare for their first flight, known as flying.

On Friday, several groups of fans aimed their scopes and binoculars at the nest from Dana Point Park.

Audrey Pope, of Santa Ana, who was with her husband, Brian, said: “I was hoping they hadn't run away because they were getting closer.” Papa's grandson turned them on to the eagles and now they watch online “24/7.”

Friends of the Big Bear Valley crew and eagle enthusiasts gaze upon Jackie and Shadow's nest.

(Gina Ferazzi/Los Angeles Times)

Beside him, Lezlie Harris, holding a small, calm dog, explained that she started watching raptors about two years ago, “when things were down in America but I had to get rid of it.”

Despite trials, such as a severe storm that killed a chick last year, it succeeded. Harris, who moved from Las Vegas to Costa Rica a little more than a year ago, said the first thing he does every day is live stream on YouTube. Although he never met Steers, he planned his trip to Big Bear to coincide with the anniversary.

Live streaming “brought me joy,” she said. “It brought me joy.”

This spring, the chicks were named Luna and Sandy, a nod to Steers, and local third graders made the final call in a community naming contest. When they finally take wing, Steers' name will be carried on the air.