Longtime game warden Lou Kis remembered as 'larger than life'

The Flathead Valley lost a true living legend last week with the passing of Louis Kis, a longtime Fish, Wildlife and Parks game warden who was described by many as being “larger than life.”

From his early days with the FWP as a game warden in Butte, to the decades spent as a bear management specialist in the Flathead, Kis’ reputation was solidified by the stories of his exploits. From the time he knocked out a professional prize fighter with a single punch, to the time he survived being mauled by a 500-pound grizzly, Kis was a man who relied on his grit and determination to get him through any situation.

Kis died Feb. 20 at the Veterans Home in Columbia Falls. He was 95 years old.

“The best way to describe Lou was that he was quietly confident. He knew he could do anything through sheer determination,” his stepson Michael Schulze said Tuesday. “He was larger than life. That may be the best way to describe him. Though he was casually larger than life. He didn’t flaunt it or boast about it. He was honest, fair and determined. Integrity and character were important to him.”

A 2019 recipient of the Outstanding Service Award from the North American Wildlife Enforcement Officers Association, Kis graduated from Polson High School in 1944 before joining the U.S. Naval Air Corp for the tail end of World War II.

After a short stint working in the logging industry, Kis answered an ad looking for game wardens and soon went to work for Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks.

Kiss was given an assignment in Butte, where the previous game warden had been all but run out of town by locals who refused to recognize his authority. Kis soon found himself facing the same attitude. When a local law firm informed Kis that they would represent anyone receiving a ticket from him pro bono, Kis replied that he would drive them to bankruptcy by keeping their lawyers busy working for free.

The people’s attitude toward Kis changed after an incident involving an angry crowd looking to draw for coveted bull elk hunting permits.

Surrounded by an angry crowd, Kis told the people to back up and wait their turn. It was in that moment that someone sucker punched Kis in the jaw and nearly knocked him down.

Quickly regaining his composure, Kis turned and punched his assailant and sent him to the ground. The man Kis had knocked out turned out to be professional boxer Johnny Messonavic, generally considered to be the toughest man in Butte.

After that, the town and its residents had a newfound respect for Kis, though Kis broke his pinky with the punch, an injury that left his finger forever at an awkward angle.

“After that happened, when he asked people to get out their license, they quickly got out their license,” Schulze said.

AFTER BEING promoted to captain and spending time in Miles City, Kis came to Kalispell as soon as he could to become the local bear expert.

It was during his time here that Kis went before the state Legislature in an effort to convince them that the state should issue wardens with firearms. He was instrumental in the selection of the .357 magnum Smith and Wesson revolver as that firearm, a decision that would later go on to help save his life.

The incident for which Kis is most widely known happened around 1 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon, June 25, 1987.

Accompanied by FWP colleagues as well as two members of the Outdoor Writers Association of America, who had been attending the group’s annual meeting in Kalispell, Kis and the group headed to the South Fork of Bunker Creek deep into the Bob Marshall Wilderness to relocate grizzly that had been captured after killing a cow on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation.

With the culvert trap resting on the back of the truck, Kis climbed on top and lifted the gate to release the bear, just as he had done many times before. Instructing the driver to move the truck when he heard the gate close, Kis released the bear and dropped the gate.

The truck did not move.

The bear, which Kis had expected would move toward the creek upon release, instead turned and began reaching for Kis atop the trap. A lightweight aluminum trap designed to be moved by helicopter, the contraption slid off the truck, dropping Kis directly on top of the angry grizzly.

Reacting by instinct, Kis pulled his .357 magnum revolver from its holster and fired four quick shots into the bear’s forehead at point blank range. Kis would later learn the four shots ricocheted off the bear’s skull and lodged themselves in its hump.

The fifth shot in the six-shot revolver missed and, with only one shot remaining, Kis grabbed the bear, put the revolver under its neck and fired his final round.

The last shot severed the bear’s spine in the neck, dropping it instantly.

After his colleagues fired three 12-gauge shotgun slugs into the still spasming bear to make sure it was dead, Kis pushed the 500-pound animal off himself, picked up his cap, dusted off his leg and summed up the moment with just two simple words, “Well, shit.”

As he sat down on a nearby log to recover, Kis first noticed the blood on his leg. At first, he thought it belonged to the bear. He had no idea the grizzly had bitten him, completely fracturing his tibia and partially fracturing the fibula, along with inflicting four deep puncture wounds.

As he was loaded onto a rescue helicopter (which had been summoned against his objections) for transport to Kalispell, Kis turned to fellow warden Floyd Thomas and asked: ″Floyd, you’re a pretty good warden, but have you ever rode a grizzly bear?″

With the entire incident being captured on film, Kis later gave interviews to the press from his hospital room as the incident soon made national news.

After surgery to repair the damaged leg, Kis is reported to have told a nurse to “pull out the IV and give me a Bud Light and I’ll be fine.”

Schulze, who still has one of the bullets recovered from the bear, says the incident was far from the only time his dad got bloody.

Schulze once came home to find blood smeared across the door, storage room and sink.

“When I investigated, I found Lou in the backyard constructing a gazebo, a duct tape bandage covering the spot where had accidentally sawed through his thumb clear down to the bone,” he said. “That’s just the kind of man he was.”

MANY PEOPLE remember Kis for his rugged determination and grit, but Schulze told of another side of his stepfather that few people ever saw.

“He would catch fishermen that had caught well above their limit and he would confiscate the fish. He would bring them home and have us help him clean them and then he would take the fish and give them to families that needed food,” Schulze said. “Years later I would still run into people who would remember my dad bringing them fish when they needed it.”

Along with helping those in need, Schulze said Kis was also a wonderful family man.

“When he married my mom, he brought us three kids in and treated us like we were his own. That takes a lot and it is not easy. That’s the kind of man he was,” Schulze said. “As a father he always had time for me. Even after a long day at work, he would throw the football with me – literally almost every evening. We played pool downstairs. He was always showing me things and working to instill a good work ethic and character. I know I would not be who I am today without him. I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish what I have without his influence and guidance.”

A well-known lover of pie, especially huckleberry, Kis was also an accomplished photographer. His posters, postcards and yearly calendars were carried in stores as far away as Nevada and New Mexico.

“He would sit there forever, just sit there. As a kid, it would drive me nuts, but he had the patience to wait for the perfect photo,” Schulze recalled.

Whether it was logging, patrolling or taking photos, Kis spent much of his life in the outdoors that he loved so much.

“He was tough, but he was always fair. He loved northwest Montana and the wildlife and the environment,” Schulze said. “All he wanted was to be here and in the outdoors, taking care of animals and helping people enjoy the resources we have.”

Reporter Jeremy Weber may be reached at 406-758-4446 or jweber@dailyinterlake.com.