Delia D'Ambra

He was described as a dedicated lawman who shared four children with his wife, Dee.

He'd previously been stationed along the Payette River, but had been transferred to Boise in the later part of his career.

Conley Elms had only been with the state Fish and Game Department for three years, but according to Pete Zimowski's reporting, he'd yearned for a long time to land a job as a game warden.

He'd worked in a factory, as an electrician, and even part-time for the fishing game department until his dream of becoming an officer finally came true in the fall of 1977.

Just like his colleague, Conley was also described as a skilled conservation officer.

A state fisheries manager who knew him told the Idaho statesman that Conley was interested in both law enforcement as well as the biological research aspect of wildlife management.

The 34-year-old was married to his wife, Cheryl, and was originally from Oregon, but had moved to Boise, Idaho when he became really interested in working for the Fish and Game Department.

The only reason he and Bill were in the Owyhee Mountains on January 5th was because an area rancher had tipped them off to ongoing incidents of deer and bobcat poaching in the region, and they were investigating the source of those problems.

Conley's wife Cheryl told reporter Pete Zimowski that on the day of the crime, Conley had actually been summoned for jury duty, but not called yet.

By that afternoon, he learned that Bill was gonna go investigate the alleged poaching violations by himself, and Conley refused to let his colleague go alone.

No other officers were available to accompany Bill at the time, so Conley stepped up.

Cheryl said she'd asked her husband not to go, but he made up his mind.

After learning of his death, she expressed she was devastated, but she was also glad to know that Conley had breathed his last while doing his dream job.

Cheryl told reporter Pete Zimowski that she planned to cremate Conley's remains along with one of his favorite fly fishing rods, hat, and suspenders that belonged to his father.

She wanted to spread the ashes in the South Fork of the Boise River, which was one of her husband's favorite streams to fish in.

Leading up to his death, the couple had been planning to adopt a baby, their first child together.

She told the newspaper that even though she'd tragically lost her life partner, she still planned to move forward with the adoption, which I find not only admirable, but inspiring.

Bill Pogue's loved ones, though, couldn't find much closure simply because his body remained unaccounted for.

Without something to lay to rest, there would be no finality to his death, no burial, no answers, until his remains were located and brought home.

The terrain that searchers were looking for him in was unforgiving, and at times the weather conditions were brutal.