Putting passion into action

The ancient cottonwoods stood as sentinels on either side of the road, making a glimmering tunnel that arched over him. It was the golden hour, and the shiny leaves waved a friendly greeting in the soft Sierra breeze, both welcoming and witnessing his transition. Birds sang serenades amid the rustling of small branches.

For Don Hittenmiller, this was a significant moment. He was leaving Las Vegas, and the mountain lands were calling to him. This pivotal journey through the canyons of Highway 395, confirmed that he was heading in the right direction. His life, unfolding as it has, substantiates that decision.

Both Don and his wife Annie Dean share their love for animals, people, and the land in common. It consistently manifests itself into action. Although they have been together for over 12 years, they are newlyweds, having tied the knot in their hometown of Markleeville just nine months ago. When they first met and found out they had been born only a short hundred miles from each other in Iowa, it all fit together.

Don’s family was staunchly religious, and though he did not follow their exact approach, the driving force behind his determination has always been imbued with a profound sense of morals and ethics that were part and parcel of his upbringing.

The middle child, initially Don hated school, referring to the dark, rambling building as a “dungeon.” Even then, his heart and mind longed to be outdoors. Transferring from this strict institution to a public elementary was a game changer. He was out in the unrestricted world and he wanted to know the “why?” of everything. He was mesmerized by the domesticated animals of his family’s home ranch, as well as the wild creatures that populated their area. Even at this early age, watching the vet come in was an inspiration for him.

Rather than be bogged down in esoteric discussions, he wanted to do something to make a difference. He was already on a path, working for a vet in Jr. High through the Explorer program. Because of his photographic memory, his teachers would allow him to do things beyond his experience level. This has been consistently true throughout his life. “I was cautious, always did my homework, and could handle whatever came my way.” Don reported.

Being ahead of the curve made him successful. And Don says that repeatedly he was “in the right place at the right time.” He worked in the summers to pay his way through school employing a technique he invented using infrared heaters to “boil off” paint on older buildings and barns.

After Iowa State, he was recruited by Las Vegas, where he received some “incredible training.” He took the boards in Reno, becoming even more enamored of the geology and history of the Great Basin. He honed his skill set working in Sparks and Sun Valley, and then went out on his own. He found a 1950s concrete building in Carson City and settled in, opening Carson Tahoe Veterinary Hospital in the early eighties. He liked working on both large and small animals, so opened his doors to all types of creatures.

During his first seven years, he joined the Veterinary Emergency Medicine and Critical Care Society. Once again, things fell into place, and these other vets became his mentors. Doing an alternative residency, he became well-versed in everything that was at the cutting edge of critical care. He drew in other fellows to work with him, and “something went right” says Don, “We would hang-out and learn.”

It was a rich time with innovative ideas for improving procedures and techniques. He offered the very best in advanced care.

At the highlight, Don employed nine vets, and had a staff of 40. As our economic times changed, some of his people had to move back to the city. His hospital had living quarters upstairs, and sometimes he “wouldn’t get home for three weeks” as his staff became smaller.

This would change though, eventually giving him more hours to explore the wilderness. In the late eighties, he discovered the little berg of Markleeville and started climbing Raymond Peak at least twice a week. He found some property that was not even listed and by the mid-1990s, he had moved permanently to Alpine County.

Previously, he had always loved woodwork but never had the time. He designed and built a remarkable underground shop, and started milling his own lumber, and creating unique and custom pieces from high quality wood. His artistic vision came alive.

The Tamarack Fire in 2021 had a big effect on everyone in Alpine. His ability to be “self-critical” helped him to constantly evaluate what was important to be accomplishing, even after retiring. In his signature response of “doing something about it,” Don has become deeply involved in the Alpine Biomass Collaborative and is a member of the Board of Amador Calaveras Consensus Group, working to manifest and maintain fire-safe communities.

Annie was born an “Iowa farm girl,” but when her father became a Professor at UC Davis, the family moved there. “We would still go back for holidays and have a great time with our cousins,” she says, “We would ski behind tractors and feed the pigs corn and soybeans.”

Growing up, everyone played an instrument. In fact, the Barber Shop Quartet in that old film classic “The Music Man,” was based on her grandad’s group. He played violin, bass, and was a “real fine” whistler. They played mainly jazz, and Annie studied piano, but she has always been primarily a vocalist. She was a middle child, surrounded by other musicians, including her high school choir.

Her father took advantage of the Sabbatical Program, and Annie spent first and fifth grades in Italy, truly enjoying learning another language. The family was in Santiago Chile during the coup in 1973. “It was pretty traumatic,” reported Annie. They all had to stay in quarantine and observe a curfew. Her father became quite ill, and they ended up having to go to the airport in the middle of night, protected by armed guards.

At home back in Davis, it was another brutal year for the family, standing by as her father died of cancer. “Back then, there was no hospice care, and chemo was very harsh.” said Annie. Her naturally compassionate and empathetic nature was heightened by these experiences.

Graduating from UC Santa Cruz with a sociology degree in 1978, she traveled with her friends to Barcelona and Madrid. Learning Spanish was easy for her, and purely by chance she got a job teaching English.

After a very cold winter, she returned home. She and her then husband eventually started a family. She worked in administration helping students at UC Davis and Berkeley, and then moved to Truckee when daughter Maddie was just 9 months old.

Annie got her certification to teach Kindermusik, a wonderful program of interaction and instruction for ages up to 7 years old. She got her master’s degree in education and taught English as a second language for 15 years in Washoe County. She also sang with a band called “The Deckheads,” who performed regularly at ski resorts, community events, and weddings.

Retiring ten years ago, she continued to work part-time in Gardnerville ESL classes. Her daughter, now with two children of her own, moved to Vermont. Her grandchildren are the light in Annie’s life. She got out all her Kindermusik curricula so she could have fun with them, but realized there also is a real need right here for developmental music. She has put together programs at the Early Learning Center and Diamond Valley School. Music has been invited back into her life in a big way.

Feeling very fortunate, both Don and Annie do not take the closeness of this tiny mountain community for granted. Both feel incredibly connected to the nature around them. Whatever the challenge: be it a pandemic, wild-land fires, or floods, they are grateful to live in a place that pulls together. Though the attire of the surrounding slopes changes with the seasons: clothed in green for summer, yellow finery for fall, and followed by the striking starkness of the solemn winter snows, “There is a positive luminosity about being here.” says Annie.