|
a.
|
Note: Dr. Lawrence Zeleny An Odyssey of Love Condensed by Bob Niebuhr Reprinted from "Bluebird Tales" the newsletter of Mountain Bluebird Trails, Inc. (MBT). (Their website is www.mountainbluebirdtrails.com <http://www.mountainbluebirdtrails.com/>) Larry Zeleny was the founder of the North American Bluebird Society. The hundreds of articles he wrote on the subject of bluebirds, culminated in his book, The Bluebird: How You Can Help Its Fight For Survival. The articles and book have motivated and counseled thousands of people across the continent. He lectured hundreds of times on his favorite subject, giving informed answers with patient enthusiasm. However, although he was indeed a forerunner, a leader in the field of bluebird preservation, his fondest wish was to have others become leaders. His book's subtitle gives him away. He wanted us to start our own trails, to monitor those trails, to experiment with prudence and, he hoped, to appreciate the beauty of the bluebird and its struggle to endure in our own way. Larry was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota on April 30, 1904. He was second of two sons born to Anthony and Mattie Zeleny. Minnesota's moderate summers compensate for the very long, very cold winters. At that time Minneapolis was not a large industrial center and there were open spaces and fields aplenty along the Mississippi River and Larry enjoyed the out-of-doors as much as possible. Like many other bluebird conservationists, he didn't know what sparked his love for the species. During his youth, bluebirds were "always there," nourished by the Mississippi. Other people had bluebird boxes in the neighborhood, with bluebird tenants. By the time he entered high school, Larry, using a Department of Agriculture bulletin, was building his own bluebird houses and in 1921 he entered the University of Minnesota and graduated in 1925 with a degree in Chemistry. While at the University he took a course in ornithology from Professor Thomas S. Roberts, author of the magnificent two-volume Birds of Minnesota. He felt right at home. He enjoyed the field trips, but he especially enjoyed the long hours of consultation with Dr. Roberts. There was a girl enrolled in that class, a science education major named Olive Lowen, and pretty Olive had an eye on Larry. She finally made the shy Zeleny kid notice her, and Olive and Larry became a team. They relaxed in each other's company, having many common interests in wildlife conservation. Olive said she endured some of those long field trips more because of her interest in Larry than for the birds she might have seen. Both Larry and Olive received their bachelors degrees the same year. Olive began her career as a teacher and Larry started graduate school at the University. He earned his M.S. in 1927 and his Ph.D. in biochemistry in 1930. As soon as Larry completed his final degree, they married on June 19, 1930, six days after their engagement. In 1935, the Zeleny's moved to Washington, D.C. and Larry started work for the Department of Agriculture. Larry held various scientific and administrative positions with the Department of Agriculture, culminating in the position of Branch Chief of the Grain Division from 1943 until his retirement in 1966. During that time he authored or co-authored 62 technical papers in the general field of agricultural biochemistry. He helped develop internationally recognized procedures for evaluating the quality of cereal grains and oil-bearing seeds. He received numerous professional awards. He led a most distinguished professional career. When visitors came to the Zeleny home in University Park, MD they would expect to find numerous birds around his large backyard, and of course, many reminders of bluebird activity throughout, from his basement workshop where he continually tinkered with building a better nesting box, to the Richard Sloan autographed print, "Eastern Bluebird," he received from the Griggsville Nature Society. To a bluebirder, Larry's home was the North Pole on Christmas Eve. How did it all start? With the Department of agriculture, Larry occupied an office for nearly 25 years on the grounds of the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center. There were quite a few bluebirds at the Center until 1950. But then came an invasion of starlings and the bluebirds disappeared. Larry was concerned, but the press of business precluded his personal intervention. In 1955 he did place a nesting box on a pole outside his office window and monitored it constantly. Bluebirds became permanent tenants. But they were exceedingly scarce elsewhere on the spacious grounds of the Center, graced with habitat, which, should have been full of bluebirds. With his retirement, he inherited that most-precious of all commodities. Time. He asked the Center's director for permission to place 13 nesting boxes around the area for the 1967 nesting season. At the same time he placed 144 nesting boxes around the state's parks. From his correspondence with Dr. T. E. Musselman, among others, he developed what he thought was a good nesting box design, with attention given to cavity size, insulation, ventilation, and drainage. That design, with little modification, endures to this day. In 1968, Larry learned about a newly formed group, The National Association for the Protection and Propagation of the Purple Martins and Bluebirds of America. He joined the organization, then journeyed to Illinois for a meeting with the group. The folks there put him in charge of bluebird protection, whereupon Larry proposed to write a booklet about the subject. Again, he secured approval and the result was a beautifully rendered handbook, which Olive entitled Bluebirds for Posterity. It sold thousands of copies and is now out of print. In 1969, Larry took over Dr. Musselman's popular column in the Purple Martin News (now the Nature Society News). He was elected president of the Maryland Ornithological Society, a member of the board of directors of the Audubon Naturalist Society and served as a consultant for Camp Fire Girls, Inc. All these positions gave him a forum to reach larger numbers of people. He became convinced that bluebirds could be helped only by many people, tens of thousands, working in small groups or as individuals, each informed as to the nature of the bluebirds' problems, and armed with a general plan for coping with them. When he wrote or talked about bluebirds, he did so in the simplest language possible, making sure that everyone understood his message. People received his message on local radio and television programs. They picked it up in newspaper articles, in magazines ranging from Living Wilderness to Exxon, U.S.A. They got it from his book, published in 1976. Then in June 1977, National Geographic featured his article, "Song of Hope for the Bluebird," punctuating it with the stunning bluebird photographs taken by his good friend Michael L. Smith. The volume of mail he received because of that article was overwhelming (over 80,000 pieces), even for Larry. He called in a few friends to discuss the situation and� the North American Bluebird Society (NABS) came about. There is much to say about this remarkable man, and not nearly enough space. He received awards for his conservation work from numerous organizations, most notably from the Patuxent Group of the Sierra Club and the Audubon Naturalist Society. He took no money for his conservation work and donated receipts from the sale of his book to NABS. Those of us who have personal knowledge of Little Brother and Little Sister� even those who have read his account of these hand-raised bluebirds� know that his love for bluebirds is real. He uses the word love a lot. It is not a word that comes easily from men in this culture. When asked about his courtship with Olive, he would respond with a simple explanation: "We fell in love." He dedicated his book to Olive, hearkening back to their ornithology class in Minnesota, "where we fell in love with birds and with each other." When Larry and the writer discussed the text for the NABS color brochure, "Where Have All the Bluebirds Gone? Larry wished the first sentence to read, "We celebrate the beautiful bluebird as a symbol of love, hope and happiness." Because the writer thought the sentiment a bit maudlin, he deleted the word "love." It was a mistake. From the beginning, it was the reason this decent and learned man was involved. Condensed from a story in NAB's quarterly journal Sialia
|