Hillis, David M.

English

The University of Kansas: Journals@KU

	 IRCF	ReptIles	&	AmphIbIAns		•		Vol	17,	no	1		•		mAR	2010	 13the	natural	history	of	West	Indian	amphibians	and	reptiles.	I	doubt	that	he	would’ve	been	up	to	reading	it,	but	I	did	want	him	to	know	that	I	had	written	it	(with	bob	powell).	perhaps	my	ego	(or	insecurity)	hoped	he’d	at	least	think,	“bob’s	done	oK.”In the Field with Henry FitchDavid	m.	hillissection	of	Integrative	biology,	University	of	texasAustin,	texas	78712	(dhillis@mail.utexas.edu)I	received	a	phone	call	from	Alice	Fitch	echelle	in	the	fall	of	my	junior	year	at	baylor	University.	I	knew	Alice,	henry	Fitch’s	daughter,	through	her	husband	tony	echelle.	tony	was	teaching	a	graduate	course	in	systematics	at	baylor,	and	had	given	me	permission	to	enroll	in	his	class	as	an	under-graduate.	that	course	opened	my	eyes	to	the	exciting	possibilities	of	phylo-genetics.	tony	and	Alice	often	let	me	come	along	on	their	many	field	trips	to	collect	fishes	throughout	texas,	so	Alice	knew	that	I	was	enthusiastic	about	fieldwork.	 over	the	phone,	Alice	described	how	her	father	had	received	a	small	grant	 to	 study	 the	 impact	of	human	exploitation	of	 iguanas	 for	 food,	and	was	planning	a	semester-long	field	trip	through	mexico	and	Central	America.	As	henry	was	nearing	retirement,	Alice	was	worried	about	him	making	the	trip	alone,	and	she	knew	that	I	had	a	passion	for	anything	to	do	with	herpetology.	she	wanted	to	know	if	I	was	interested	in	taking	off	a	semester	from	school	and	accompanying	henry	in	the	field.	“I	would	love	to	do	it,	but	I’ll	need	to	think	about	it,”	I	said,	as	I	considered	how	delay-ing	my	graduation	by	a	semester	might	affect	my	future	plans	for	graduate	school.	I	hung	up	the	phone	and	thought	for	about	30	seconds,	then	called	Alice	back.	“I’ll	do	it…when	do	we	leave?”	that	was	the	extent	of	the	back-ground	and	the	planning	for	what	was	to	be	my	most	educational	semester	as	an	undergraduate.	 I	was	already	quite	familiar	with	henry	Fitch	through	his	books	and	research	articles.	I	had	met	him	the	previous	summer	as	he	visited	Alice	and	tony,	when	I	asked	him	to	sign	my	copy	of	his	book,	Reproductive Cycles of Lizards and Snakes.	I	remember	that	he	was	pleased	to	see	that	my	copy	of	the	book	was	worn	and	obviously	heavily	used.	henry	had	been	embar-rassed	and	modest,	acting	as	if	he	felt	honored	to	be	asked	by	an	over-eager	undergraduate	for	his	autograph.	I	couldn’t	believe	that	such	a	famous	per-son	could	be	so	modest.	 henry	drove	down	from	Kansas	and	picked	me	up	in	texas	in	early	January,	in	an	old	International	harvester	pickup	with	a	well-worn	camper	in	the	bed,	which	was	to	be	our	home	for	the	next	four	months.	We	crossed	into	mexico	the	next	day,	and	I	learned	very	quickly	that	there	was	little	justification	for	henry’s	modest	demeanor.	I	asked	questions	about	every-thing	we	saw,	and	rarely	did	I	manage	to	stump	him.	At	every	camping	site,	I	caught	practically	every	herp,	fish,	insect,	spider,	crustacean,	and	mam-mal	that	I	could	find,	and	henry	told	me	something	about	them	all.	he	frequently	also	would	explain	fundamental	concepts	of	geology,	climate,	ecology,	and	just	about	every	other	aspect	of	natural	history	as	we	slowly	moved	south	through	mexico	into	Central	America.	his	impromptu	lec-tures	stimulated	me	to	write	long	entries	in	my	field	journal	every	evening.	 the	funded	purpose	of	the	trip	was	to	study	iguana	exploitation,	and	we	did	that.	but	henry	was	fascinated	with	anoles,	and	it	became	clear	to	me	that	henry	was	much	more	interested	in	studying	the	systematics,	ecology,	and	behavior	of	anoles	than	he	was	in	studying	iguanas.	that	was	fine	with	me;	I	didn’t	care	what	we	studied,	as	long	as	it	was	related	to	her-petology.	We	traveled	fairly	slowly,	so	that	we	had	plenty	of	time	to	collect	anoles	and	other	herps	at	every	campsite.	 I	had	never	before	met	an	adult	who	was	so	completely	immersed	in	the	study	of	natural	history,	so	we	hit	it	off	immediately.	henry	was	as	enthusiastic	about	being	in	the	field	as	I	was,	at	least	by	day.	I	was	surprised,	however,	that	henry	did	not	accompany	me	on	my	nightly	forays	into	the	forests	around	our	campsites	after	dark.	his	diabetes	had	affected	his	night	vision,	and	so	he	did	not	see	well	at	night.	but	he	was	always	enthusiastic	about	all	the	herps	I	would	find	and	bring	back	to	him	in	the	camper	after	dark,	and	we	would	often	stay	up	late	talking	about	our	latest	captures	and	what	interesting	research	problems	they	might	suggest.	to	henry,	every	species	provided	new	questions	that	were	waiting	to	be	answered.	I	couldn’t	imagine	a	more	exciting	life.	 As	much	as	I	was	enjoying	myself,	there	were	a	few	aspects	of	henry’s	approach	to	fieldwork	that	caused	me	some	aggravation.	First,	he	insisted	on	doing	all	the	driving,	even	though	I’d	been	asked	by	Alice	to	accompany	henry	on	the	basis	that	he	would	need	some	help.	Given	his	poor	night	vision,	his	night-driving	proved	quite	frightening	to	everyone	on	the	road	except	henry,	and	more	than	once	I	was	convinced	we	would	drive	off	one	of	the	many	precipitous	roadsides	in	the	mountains	of	Central	America.	eventually,	I	insisted	that	he	had	to	let	me	drive	at	night,	or	else	I	would	only	get	in	the	truck	with	him	by	day.	We	drove	only	by	day	from	then	on;	I	was	still	not	permitted	to	drive	the	old	International	harvester	pickup.	 A	second	minor	aggravation	was	what	can	generously	be	described	as	henry’s	rather	parsimonious	nature.	We	bought	and	cooked	all	our	own	food,	which	was	fine	with	me,	except	that	henry	was	a	straight	midwestern	meat-and-potatoes	man,	and	we	almost	never	had	any	meat.	so	we	ate	mostly	potatoes.	After	the	first	few	weeks	of	a	steady	potato	diet,	I	was	get-ting	desperate	for	something	I	could	taste.	I	started	buying	a	few	peppers	and	spices	from	the	markets	on	the	sly,	and	catching	land	crabs,	freshwater	prawns,	and	fish	from	the	streams	around	our	campsites.	soon	I	was	cook-ing	up	two	meals:	boiled	potatoes	for	henry,	and	a	spicy	concoction	of	whatever	I	could	catch	around	our	campsites	for	me.	henry	politely	tried	my	attempts	at	culinary	diversity	a	few	times,	but	he	always	returned	to	potatoes	for	dinner.	sometimes,	for	excitement,	he	would	put	a	little	salt	and	pepper	or	butter	on	them,	or	even	add	a	scrambled	egg	when	he	was	feeling	extravagant.	 other	than	gasoline	(which	cost	about	30	cents	a	gallon	in	mexico	at	the	time),	I	think	henry	was	spending	less	than	a	dollar	a	day	for	all	our	other	living	expenses.	so	when	we	reached	the	Guatemala–el	salvador	bor-der	on	a	saturday	in	February,	and	henry	discovered	that	the	weekend	fee	for	crossing	the	border	was	50	cents/person,	but	that	the	weekday	rate	was	25	cents,	we	of	course	had	to	turn	around	and	camp	out	in	Guatemala	until	monday	morning	to	save	50	cents.	At	our	Guatemalan	campsite	near	the	border,	I	found	synbranchid	eels	in	a	small	stream,	and	I	had	a	blast	figur-ing	out	how	to	catch	them	(and	I	still	have	fond	memories	of	Synbranchus stew).	by	sunday	I	had	to	hang	my	clothes	out	to	dry,	and	some	locals	who	had	been	drinking	decided	to	take	advantage	of	the	situation.	they	grabbed	my	clothes	and	ran,	and	I	briefly	gave	chase,	until	one	of	them	turned	and	pulled	out	a	machete.	I	returned	to	camp	and	suggested	to	henry	that	we	might	want	to	find	a	new	camping	spot.	henry	did	not	seem	very	interested	in	doing	so	until	rocks	started	raining	down	on	us	from	the	cliff	above	our	campsite.	We	pulled	out	just	as	a	large	rock	smashed	our	windshield.	When	I	last	saw	that	pickup	many	years	later,	that	broken	windshield	had	never	been	repaired.	 on	monday	morning	after	the	windshield-smashing	event,	we	arrived	at	the	border	at	8	Am,	just	when	the	weekend	rate	was	supposed	to	change	back	to	the	weekday	rate.	but	after	the	customary	spraying	of	the	truck	with	DDt	(a	ritual	that	was	practiced	on	both	sides	of	every	Central	American	border),	the	border	official	charged	us	50	cents	a	person.	henry	objected,	and	pointed	to	the	clock	on	the	wall,	which	said	8:05	Am.	the	border	official	calmly	went	to	the	clock,	changed	the	time	to	7:55,	and	charged	us	the	weekend	rate.	It	was	one	of	the	few	times	in	four	months	I	saw	henry	mad	about	anything.	For	the	most	part,	he	would	roll	with	whatever	life	dished	out,	and	make	the	best	of	every	situation.	 our	study	of	human	exploitation	of	iguanas	and	ctenosaurs	reached	a	peak	during	lent,	when	the	markets	of	Central	America	became	well	stocked	with	these	large	lizards.	lizard	is	not	considered	“meat”	by	many	people	who	give	up	meat	for	lent,	so	iguanas	and	ctenosaurs	were	sold	and	RemembRAnCes14	 IRCF	ReptIles	&	AmphIbIAns		•		Vol	17,	no	1		•		mAR	2010eaten	by	the	thousands	during	this	time.	but	after	lent,	we	were	back	into	the	mountains,	looking	for	more	species	of	anoles.	by	then,	we	had	hatched	a	project	to	study	intra-	and	interspecific	variation	of	anole	dewlaps,	and	were	busy	collecting	series	of	as	many	species	as	we	could	locate.	 one	might	think	that	it	would	have	been	a	physical	mismatch	to	pair	a	young	strapping	undergraduate	with	a	professor	nearing	retirement	on	an	extended	field	trip.	It	was…I	had	a	hard	time	keeping	up	with	henry.	he	wasn’t	fast,	but	he	never	stopped.	he	could	walk	all	day	up	steep	mountain-sides	in	pursuit	of	the	next	species	of	anole,	and	we	did	so	just	about	every	day.	some	years	later,	as	a	graduate	student	at	the	University	of	Kansas,	I	would	take	public	education	classes	of	schoolchildren	out	to	the	KU	natural	history	Reservation	where	henry	and	his	wife	Virginia	lived.	even	well	into	his	“retirement”	years,	henry	took	great	pride	in	leaving	kids	in	the	dust.	As	he	cruised	through	the	Reservation,	he	would	grab	snakes	as	he	walked,	checking	their	ventral	clips	for	individual	identification.	“Aha!	It’s	female	number	1675!	I	have	captured	this	racer	more	than	300	times	in	her	life…I	am	glad	to	see	that	she	is	still	alive.”	the	kids	were	always	wide-eyed	with	amazement,	as	they	stood	there	trying	to	catch	their	breath	before	henry	rushed	off	to	the	next	snake.	 As	it	turned	out,	Alice	need	not	have	worried	about	henry’s	“advancing	age”	when	we	set	off	for	our	Central	American	field	trip.	henry	remained	active	in	the	field	for	another	three	decades	after	that	trip	…	a	full	career	for	many	people.	henry	collected	more	data	after	he	“retired”	than	most	people	collect	in	their	lifetimes.	I	doubt	anyone	will	ever	be	able	to	repeat	the	kind	of	long-term	autecological	studies	that	he	perfected.	but	more	than	the	specific	knowledge	that	I	learned	from	henry,	what	I	admired	most	about	him	was	his	child-like	enthusiasm	for	nature	and	everything	in	it,	and	his	unquench-able	need	to	ask	questions	about	everything	he	encountered.	several	gen-erations	of	herpetologists	benefited	from	his	wisdom,	his	kindness,	and	his	passion.	mention	his	name	to	anyone	who	ever	met	him,	and	you	will	get	a	smile	and	a	story.	I	can’t	think	of	a	better	legacy	for	a	great	naturalist	who	squeezed	so	much	out	of	such	a	long	and	productive	life.	henry,	we	will	all	miss	you,	but	we	will	smile	every	time	your	name	is	mentioned.Natural History Observations  of Henry FitchRaymond	b.	hueyDepartment	of	biology	(box	351800),	University	of	Washingtonseattle,	Washington	98195-1800	(hueyrb@u.washington.edu)the	second	World	Congress	of	herpetology	was	held	in	Adelaide,	Australia	in	1994.	one	symposium	was	on	the	biology	of	snakes,	and	henry	Fitch	was	a	presenter.	For	many	in	the	audience,	this	was	their	first	time	to	hear	the	legend	in	person.	so	as	henry	walked	to	the	podium,	the	audience’s	initial	mood	(or	at	least	mine)	was	one	of	excitement,	anticipa-tion,	and	respect.	 henry	gave	an	amazing	talk.	the	theme	was	long-term	(really	long-term!)	demographic	 trends	of	all	of	 the	snakes	on	the	Kansas	natural	history	Reserve.	the	results	were	stunning	but	depressing:	the	density	of	essentially	every	species	had	declined	over	time.	 the	audience	(largely	snake	buffs	of	the	first	order)	quickly	became	somber.	Adding	to	the	poignancy	of	the	moment,	we	all	recognized	that	this	grim	result	was	being	delivered	by	a	kind	and	gentle	man	whose	deep	love	for	snakes	and	their	natural	history	had	inspired	him	to	carry	out	a	life-long	study	of	these	snakes.	but	the	clear	conclusion	emerging	from	all	of	his	immense	work	was	that	his	beloved	subjects	were	declining	to	extinction.	sometimes,	life	doesn’t	seem	fair.	 either	in	his	talk,	or	in	the	question	period	afterwards,	henry	noted	that	a	primary	cause	was	a	policy	of	suppressing	fires	on	the	Reserve:	as	a	result,	succession	was	unchecked,	such	that	habitats	on	the	reserve	were	increasingly	forested	and	increasingly	unfavorable	to	snakes.	 someone	asked,	“Why	don’t	you	light	a	fire?”	henry	thought	for	a	moment,	and	then	replied	quietly,	“I	can’t	do	that.”	my	distinct	impression	at	the	time	was	that	he	really	did	want	to	do	just	that,	but	that	he	couldn’t	do	so	ethically,	given	his	position	at	the	Reserve.	 but	I	also	remember	distinctly	feeling	at	the	time	that	henry	was	send-ing	a	subliminal	message	to	us	in	the	audience:	“If	you	want	to	start	a	fire...”	 For	me,	henry’s	talk	was	certainly	among	the	most	memorable	ones	of	the	entire	Congress.	moreover,	its	central	lesson	still	haunts	my	thoughts.	We	should	do	science	because	we	love	the	process,	not	because	we	need	to	love	the	results.	henry	Fitch	could	not	have	loved	the	results	of	his	work,	but	there’s	no	doubt	he	loved	the	process.Memories of Henry Fitchmichael	V.	plummerDepartment	of	biology,	harding	Universitysearcy,	Arkansas	72149	(plummer@harding.edu)henry	Fitch	was	one	of	the	most	gracious,	kind,	and	gentle	men	I	have	ever	known.	I	greatly	respected	him	for	his	long	list	of	professional	achievements,	but	I	also	respected	him	for	the	man	he	was	and	how	he	treated	others.	he	was	always	the	gentle	encourager	to	me	and	I	often	think	of	his	example	when	I	get	in	an	exasperating	situation	with	my	students	or	colleagues.	I	never	heard	a	degrading	word	spoken	against	henry	the	man	RemembRAnCeshenry	Fitch	examining	an	iguana	in	a	market	in	el	salvador,	February	1979.daVid HiLLis

In the Field with Henry Fitch

https://journals.ku.edu/reptilesandamphibians/article/download/16052/14378

In the Field with Henry Fitch

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