Mice in the Freezer, Owls on the Porch: The Lives of Naturalists Frederick and Francis Hamerstrom

17 The Making of a Legend

Sing the great lovers: the fame of all they can feel is far from immortal enough. Those whom you almost envied . . . Begin ever anew their never attainable praise. —Rainer Maria Rilke 265 Through all those years, the Hamerstroms were doing more than saving the prairie chicken and studying raptors. They were creating a legend , one based on solid scientific achievements, their work with prairie chickens and birds of prey, his classic early papers, and the public awareness built by their hospitality and her books. His generosity in advising, editing, and organizing, and her flair for publicity certainly helped. The interaction of these two personalities in long years of collaboration in a loving partnership was key, for each of them accomplished much more than either one of them could have alone. They were a genuine team. People remember them as such. A resident at Welder Wildlife Refuge, where they wintered for many years, reflected: “It was something to see. There was no competition. They were each other’s best friends, always thoughtful and polite to each other. When you think of sixty-one years of working together—it really was inspiring.”1 Neighbor Larry Crawford, a worker for the DNR on the grouse project for eleven years and a friend for many more, never heard disagreement or bickering. Fran wrote of “a cast of falcons, each anticipating or responding to the other’s moves,”2 and the phrase precisely describes the couple’s interactions. Words such as decision-maker, supporter, or dominant—words with significant overtones—are a less accurate reflection of them. 17 The Making of a Legend They learned from each other and then used that knowledge to get the most effect from their work. Consider their early repair of the foundations at the Walter Ware place: after cleaning, washing, and stacking each stone, they rebuilt the structure together. Together they ruefully observed their carefully laid mortar trickle from the joints. This episode demonstrates Fran’s way of learning. Sure that they had bought worthless cement, she decided: “I’ll go to town for a new supply; you’re too polite to argue, Hammy.” The patient dealer explained : the water-washed sand they had used was to blame. “Go over to the moraine, on Highway O. The sand over there’ll do the job.” He gave her a large bunch of bags. She drove to the moraine and filled two bags, each too heavy for her to lift. Only as she redistributed the sand into many bags did she understand his largesse. She loaded the truck, drove home, and mixed the mortar as Hammy relaid the stones. Then she rebuilt the weathered chimney, all by herself.3 She had learned about water-washed sand and also to listen with fewer preconceptions. Many saw Hammy making the decisions. Mrs. Errington noted Fran leaving a party directly upon his signal. Fran agreed: “Frederick had given me the look. It was time to go home.” He set the boundaries. When, in the mid-1930s, he heard that a Necedah neighbor, thinking him a warden, planned to shoot him, he determined to set the matter straight. Game wardens had been shot in that county. Fran begged to go with him; women, she said, were a softening influence. “I have made up my mind to go alone.” “But I’ll wear a skirt—my green tweed skirt.” “Fran, the matter is settled. I’m going alone and on foot.” No argument moved him. Next morning an anxious young wife watched her husband through binoculars from an upstairs window. He walked away, swinging his arms to show he wasn’t carrying a gun. He returned triumphant: the story that he had heard, simply put, was a lie.4 Their son was explicit: “Hammy made the big decisions. Because Fran talked more and was the active social planner, many saw her as dominant. However she might agitate for an activity, Hammy had the final word.” Hammy built on her preferences and skills. Her diligent efforts to please made it easy to listen to her opinions and to include her in activities. She so loved fieldwork that, to prevent any precautionary Mice in the Freezer, Owls on the Porch 266 limiting of that activity in the last month of her ten-month first pregnancy, he carried dental floss with him in case the baby came in the field. Besides, since “She can out-walk, out...