Two passenger pigeons by John James Audubon superimposed over map of Chicago.
Her name is Martha, or at least the most famous one was named Martha. My current obsession is passenger pigeons, the last one of whom, Martha, died in the Cincinnati Zoo on September 1, 1914. I am madly researching all that I can find about this remarkable species for a book I am hoping can come out by early 2014. What Homo sapiens did to this bird is unique in the annals of human history: an estimated population of 3 to 5 billion in 1800 was reduced to virtually zero by 1900, and absolutely zero fourteen years later.
The internet and some very supportive librarians have enabled me to amass a large amount of information without having to leave the house. But as I am visualizing how this book is going to look, I have had to travel to various places in the Midwest to fill in gaps of the story that I want to emphasize. The center for ppigeon research has to be Madison, WI where A.W. Schorger lived and did much of his work in producing what has been the definitive work on the species. He spent decades combing the newspapers of WI and examining other narratives throughout the country. When he started his project, in the 1930s, there were people alive who knew the bird first hand, and he interviewed many of them. I have made two trips so far to Madison (where I was able to stay with my friends Tom and Mariah, whose house on Lake Mendota enables them to see both the sun rise and set from their bed) where I have gone through Schorger’s correspondence and now am working my way through his notebooks that include his ppigeon notes. Prof. Stan Temple has introduced me to a few people who knew Schorger and we had some interesting interviews (except my darn recorder wasn’t working very well- dare I buy a digital recorder? Dare I leave the 20th century even further behind? Eek!)
Last week I ventured deep into MI to Saginaw. Saginaw is important to the ppigeon story because it was the home of both William Butts Mershon and Henry B. Roney. Mershon was a timber baron and fanatic hunter who changed his ways a bit to support the nascent conservation movement of the late 1800s. He also was the ppigeons first historian, and his 1907 “The Passenger Pigeon” is one of four book length accounts on the species. Roney was an organist who later became famous for his boys choir that performed across the country. But in the spring of 1878 he did something never done before: during the last great nesting of the bird in Petoskey, MI where millions were killed, he and three others tried to stop the slaughter. By then MI had a few laws that limited how close you could be to the nests before you shot or trapped them. Roney enlisted the authorities to arrest and convict people for violating the law (it turns out that the local sheriff who cooperated with Roney, himself was pinched for breaking the law). Mershon was one of Saginaw’s wealthiest citizens and even served as mayor so there was plenty of information on him (his papers even include a note from Grover Cleveland declining an offer to go on a fishing trip). Roney, though, stayed in town for only a few years, employed as the musical director of the First Congregational Church.
Jon Wuepper, a nature historian of the first order, joined me on this adventure. We spent most of our time at the Hoyt Public Library in downtown Saginaw, where librarians Leo and Kelly went out of their way to accommodate my every wish. I also had a delightful time meeting Jeri and Jean of the First Congregational Church. Everyone offered to help in every way they could. And when I told them how touched I was with their generosity they said that it makes them feel good that the materials they so carefully maintain are of interest to outside researchers.
The trip ended with some real birding, not just imaginary. My friend Jeanette Jaskula was staying with her two young boys at her parents’ house in Hobart, IN while her husband Mike was at a conference in Montreal. I rarely see her any more as the youngsters prevent her from getting out in the field much. And if Mike gets a job somewhere (he is just finishing his doctorate), they may well be forced to settle in Timbuktu. So this was a chance for us to do some birding together and so I spent the night at her parents’ house.
Saturday morning dawned warm and calm. (In fact, both Saturday and Sunday topped 70 degrees, the first time in fifty years that back to back November days reached that high a temperature.) Conditions proved way too nice for a great flight but we headed out to Miller undaunted.. Even without winds to prod the birds southward, this is late enough in the fall for lake birds to be present. A mass of 60 snow geese (50 of which were blue) provided our first highlight, followed by an adult great black-backed gull. A flock of redheads bobbed in the lake just offshore and a few gadwall headed west. We walked down to the beach and spied Michael Topp at the end of Lake Street to the west, so we drove over to join him on top the artificial dune. Snow buntings appeared in several flocks that would coalesce and then separate. They would feed briefly on the beach and then erupt into the air, some heading inland and some over the lake.
Michael received a phone call from Jeff McCoy who had just located a red-necked grebe at Beverly Shores, quite a bit to the east of us. Jeanette had to return and so Michael and I headed east to meet Jeff, Ken Brock, and the rest of the Hoosier Gang. I never saw the grebe, but there were white-winged scoters, more snow geese, common loons (Ken had a day’s total of 730 in two large rafts), horned grebes (35 for the day), and red-throated loon, a species that has definitely increased over the years.
Having been away and feeling a bit tired, I bid the group adieu and drove back to Miller to pick up a slab at Porky’s barbeque where Tom, a true artist of the pit produces the best ribs I know. On my way an immature bald eagle flew over Long Lake, adding a dash of sauce to the forthcoming ribs. A weekend of ppigeons, friends (new and long-standing), comfortable birding in November that actually produced birds, and a culinary delight- not bad at all.
Jeanette Jaskula and blogger at Miller Beach (photo by Michael Topp).
Tags: extinction, passenger pigeon, Saginaw, snow buntings