At the end of the day, Steve Schuler-Jones would heft two big rings of antique eight-inch skeleton keys, 63 of them in all. Then he would begin his route, locking doors, windows and the front gate of La Purisima Mission.

One would think 20 years of practice would make him quicker at his task. He did it 5,000 times. But for Schuler-Jones, it took longer.

“It takes me an hour and a half to lock up,” he said recently as his retirement loomed. “It ought to take half an hour, but people want to stop and talk.” He gazed wistfully from a bench by a footbridge toward the historic mission buildings 200 yards west.

The first to stop to talk this day is Harold Oliveira, a descendent of one of the original Santa Barbara Presidio guards. Here to shepherd a flock of Righetti High School special education students, knee surgery has left Oliveira unable to keep up.

“Being a descendant I've always had a special feeling for the missions,” he says. “I thought it would be a good place for the kids to come. They can put their hands on things here.”

As Oliveira hobbles off in search of his group, Schuler-Jones offers a comment rarely heard from a man behind a badge. “This position allowed me to experience the spirituality of the place,” he says.

Steve Schuler-Jones is not your garden variety state park ranger. He more embodies the founding Franciscans than a cop. At 53, he carries an extra pound or two. His beard is turning gray. And this day, as retirement nears, he is particularly philosophical.

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“The mission is a magical world,” he says. “You have the cemetery; you have death. You have the changes in the Chumash. You have rebirth with the CCCs. It's a microcosm of life.” The Civilian Conservation Corps rebuilt the mission in the 1930s.

Schuler-Jones arrived to work here in 1987 after six years at other state parks and a year's sabbatical at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley. Retirement after 20 years - Schuler-Jones' last day at the mission was Oct. 25 - promises a hefty financial package, weekends off, and freedom for summer vacations with his teacher wife.

And the job has changed - less history and animals, more rules and guns. “Today parks have gotten so crazy that we've become more law enforcement-oriented,” says Supervising Ranger Teresa Armas. “I love Steve because he's an affable, old-school ranger who meets the people and who knows about the animals and the plants.”

In 26 years Schuler-Jones has never fired his .40-caliber Smith & Wesson in the line of duty.

“A ranger used to be Mr. Everybody,” Schuler-Jones continues, his sense of humor not surrendering to his philosophic mood. “Anthropologist, archeologist, biologist, zoologist, geologist, and Andy of Mayberry, too. Now we're Barney Fife.

In place of his sidearm, Schuler-Jones prefers other tools - humor, his guitar, and his stories.

“People love my ghost stories,” he chuckles. He had heard talk of ghosts here but was not convinced until one night in June 1994. It was about 9:30 p.m.

“I saw Ben Franklin in drag,” he declares, no doubt in his voice. “In the captain's quarters, the room with the canopy in the residence building, he was sitting on the edge of the bed in nightshirt and glasses swinging his legs. I don't know that it was Ben Franklin in drag but that's what it looked like. Several people have seen him since.”

Schuler-Jones also enthralls listeners with stories of nature.

“There was the first time I saw a Great Blue Heron eating a gopher. It was out by the parking lot here. It stands very still and when it sees the prey it spears it with its beak. It twirls it around until it gets the head and swallows it.”

Schuler-Jones has a reputation for being able to tell a story about any location on the 1800-acre mission. A visitor points to a random tree south of the cemetery.

“The old pepper tree - ‘Blessed Art Thou' set up there,” he points, referring to a movie that was filmed in 2000 at the mission.

“They set up a scene of a golf course in a bucolic setting. They pulled out our cows to be over there. Our cows had a bad case of the flies and one steer walked on to the set thrashing about and caught a golf bag by his horns. Everybody scattered,” he laughs. “It was a ‘World's Funniest Home Video' moment.”

He has written an estimated 40 songs, many of them about the mission and the docents.

“The docents put the heart and soul into this place,” Schuler-Jones continues. “They are an incredible asset. They make it come alive. That's why I stayed so long.”

At this moment, as if on cue to demonstrate mission magic, the padre of the mission, Jerry Ellis, in Franciscan robe, bursts across the footbridge leading a throng of Righetti students.

Schuler-Jones teamed with ranger Joe McCummins for 17 years and with former park Superintendent Mike Curry for 10. Both have retired. Over their years, the docent group exploded in size to more than 100, the largest in the state park system, and the mission added a beehive of activities - Purisima People Day, Mission Life Day, Village Day, and more. Student Learning History Days alone draw 20,000 fourth-graders every year.

Ann Boggess is the uniformed park interpreter. “It's a big loss for us because Steve has been such a big part of the mission. He's the last of the long-term staff. That was an amazing team. This is the end of an era.”

Current Superintendent Danita Rodriguez who, unlike Curry, shoulders responsibility for three other parks besides La Purisima, will never forget Schuler-Jones' humor.

“He always tells great stories. Once we were driving together to Monterey to a training. I was laughing so hard for three hours that my abdominal and back muscles were sore for weeks. At the same time he has compassion for people.”

Around the mission, Schuler-Jones' quick wit is compared to comedian Dom DeLuise. Docent Marie Schleuter remembers one example with a mischievous grin.

The ranger was summoned to help a sheep that seemed to be struggling. He quickly saw the ewe was about to give birth.

“Know what he said to the sheep?” Schleuter asks, her grin expanding to platter width.

“Breathe deep.”

Correspondent John McReynolds can be reached at 736-6352 or johnny544@verizon.net

November 4, 2007