Aldo Leopold
On January 11, 1887, Rand Aldo Leopold was born in Burlington, Iowa, at the home of his grandparents, Charles Opa Starker and Marie Runge Oma Starker. Charles was a lover of nature who helped design a park in town. A few years before, he and Marie bought a mansion in Prospect Hill bluff, but the grounds needed some work. With their children, Arthur and Clara, the couple added trees, plants and shrubs, transforming the property and calling it Lug-ins-land. The Burlington Hawkeye called their creation, birds’ paradise. Clara was an outdoors person who won ice skating trophies. Eventually she married Carl Leopold and a year later, their first child, Aldo, was born. On that occasion, a red oak was planted at Lug-ins-land, which the family translated as looking to the land. His siblings would arrive later: Marie Luize, Carl Starker and Frederic.
Carl’s father, also named Charles, was opposed to slavery and his home probably served as part of the Underground Railroad. There aren’t many good things named Rand, and it wasn’t long before that part of Aldo’s name was abandoned. Actually, the change came about due to a falling out with Carl’s business partner, C. W. Rand. Didn’t I tell you? The Leopold family spent weekends picnicking on the lake or somewhere on the land. When winter arrived, sleighs replaced wagons and walks in the woods continued. They were nature hikes, with Carl the teacher and the children his enthusiastic pupils. He would open a log from a dead tree and point to the life still within. Aldo, Marie and Carl, Jr. would discover minks, muskrats and what animal had been scratching on the bark of a tree. Frederic wasn’t on the earlier walks but would soon be.
All four children loved the land and never asked, what shall I do now? Each had numerous projects, and you know who led the way. They all became amateur naturalists and Aldo was the most dedicated. Most of the time he was outdoors, climbing mountains and crossing rivers He looked for berries, rabbits, birds and flowers, accompanied by his Irish terrier, Spud. He may have been way ahead of his time in his dog naming. Leopold skinny dipped in creeks and hiked ten blocks to school, occasionally replacing that trip with a nature walk. He reasoned that school would still be in session the next day. Playing hooky didn’t affect his grades as he was still at the top of his elementary school class. Aldo could speak English even before he began school. He read Jack London and about Hiawatha and Daniel Boone. He gazed into Outlook, his father’s hunting magazine, searching for wilderness survival hints.
Carl brought him along on many of his outdoor trips, which the lad cherished. Aldo learned gun safety from his father, including, Never point a gun at anything you do not wish to kill. I would have added something about the Fifth Commandment with animal dispensations. Carl taught the boy to follow hunting laws and not to use heavy artillery. He should only kill animals that the family would consume, unlike what the U. S. Government had done to the buffalo. Species in danger of extinction should be allowed to live. Carl was a member of the Boone and Crockett Club, founded by Theodore Roosevelt and George Bird Grinnell. Like Teddy, Carl had a handlebar mustache, even though it wasn’t required.
Besides learning from his father, Aldo also benefited from Opa’s experience. His grandfather taught him gardening, weeding, pruning, planting and artistic design. Leopold found out which plants benefited by being near others and which didn’t do well. He learned quickly and carried pencil and paper to keep notes, wherever he journeyed. Observing birds, he kept track of how many he saw, spotting 39 species by the age of eleven. Two years later, he was deeply distressed when Opa died. The Burlington Democrat-Journal wrote of Charles, it is not probable that there was another man in this community who was so generally and cordially esteemed alike by all classes of people. It was soon after that Oma died.
Aldo was headed to Burlington High School and because of overcrowding, chose the afternoon sessions. It gave him the mornings to roam the forests. Every so often, he engaged in the same practice he had done before. He’d rather be outdoors, and his grades were fine, except for math. He relished reading and biology and dug into the journals on ornithology. His bird watching continued. One day before 4 a.m., his classmate, Edwin Hunger, who was delivering newspapers, spotted Leopold with his notebook and opera glasses and realized that Aldo was there to watch these exceptional flying creatures. Soon Hunger had a new interest. Leopold recorded sightings, made some assumptions about bird behavior and then continued to observe in order to see if what he thought was right.
The Leopolds usually vacationed at Les Cheneaux, a resort on Marquette Island. In 1903, they went west, visiting Rocky Mountain National Park. Leaving the rest of the family, Carl and Aldo headed on a packhorse trip for big-game hunting. They saw the geysers and bison and had a few misadventures. Father and son learned quickly where not to keep food, especially with hungry bears in the area. Snow arrived and sickness hit the guide, resulting in hard luck hunting. This first real taste of wilderness convinced the lad that there was no better possible vacation.
Carl’s furniture business was named The Leopold’s Desks, whose motto was Built on Honor to Endure. Aldo’s dad’s enterprise resulted when Carl bought out C. W. Rand’s share of the business. When Carl saw that the forests were being depleted by the lumber industries in the Midwest, he knew the same desecration would occur out west. Unlike many fathers who want their sons to take over the business, Carl felt there was a better choice for Aldo. The forests needed an ally so they could be preserved not demolished. Aldo heard about the Yale School of Forestry, but realized that he’d need an eastern boarding school education to be admitted. He transferred to the Lawrenceville School in New Jersey in his junior year, bolstered by a great recommendation from his former principal. He was almost seventeen, but soon was a student, studying diligently and writing letters to his family while avoiding partying and girls.
His writing home – some 10,000 pages – covered a bundle of letters and became a big part of his later life. Once again, Leopold headed outdoors as much as possible. He still missed classes even though he wasn’t sick. He caught up to the other students, except in geometry, which he failed. He was soon imprisoned, that is, kept indoors, but then he worked on an indoor garden, bringing the outdoors in. Aldo enrolled in as many nature courses as he could. He trapped in the woods and brought back to life fish in the school pond that appeared to be ready for the frying pan. In a speech contest, he presented the argument of preservation, insisting that destroying forests would result in overturning nature’s balance, and changes in climate will follow. He gave the environmental disaster of Spain as a not so shining example.
Knowing birds by their calls, his name was well known among bird watchers. He was picked as a judge by Princeton professors and a bird-watching club in their essay contest. He excelled at school surpassing some of his classmates. The math must have held him back. Getting through college entrance and final exams, he graduated in June 1905. Returning to Burlington for the summer, he continued his outdoor jaunts. Being there so much, he was given a new name, Adam, with Frederic saying of his brother, he did not think he was cut from the common cloth, and he wasn’t.
Once in New Haven, Leopold entered the Sheffield Scientific School at Yale for courses in chemistry, physics, German, mechanical drawing and of course, geometry. He continued his running, observing, working out, attending special lectures and studying. He read Emerson, Thoreau, Cicero, Teddy Roosevelt, Longfellow and the Bible. He somehow got through Charles Darwin’s Vegetable Mould And Earthworms. His trips to the woods decreased because it took longer to get there. After his second year, classes unrelated to management bored him. Peering at drops of mud under a microscope didn’t interest him so he skipped sessions and partied. He was warned and then he got to work, ordered by Clara. He passed his final and graduated.
Leopold entered the Yale Forest School that autumn. He still had problems in math class, which later led him to calculation errors in his work. Graduating with a master’s degree, he took civil servant exams, which he passed. He then was off to work in the Southwest, where he wanted to be. His three tasks were to protect forest cover, assure that the supply of timber was available for industry and prevent unfair industrial competition in forest usage. It was on this assignment that Aldo and his crew shot and killed a mother wolf and her cubs. Years later he would question what had happened, with regret.
Aldo’s education had been formal, from his parents and grandparents, and his experience resulted from the same sources. He still was learning and would do so throughout the rest of his life. His next assignment was the Carson National Forest because of a woman, Estella Bergere, whose family was 30 miles away. He married the teacher despite the fact that she was engaged to the handsome H. B. Jamie Jamison. She chose the better man, as time would tell. Estella and Aldo set up residence close to the Rio Grande Valley and were very devoted to each other.
Caught in a snowstorm, Leopold was overcome by the wet and cold for a few days. His knees became inflamed and he was diagnosed with rheumatism, which he shrugged off. He was near death as his kidneys failed. His assistant, R. E. Marsh deserves credit for seeing the problem and doing something. Given sweating pills, it took months but Leopold recovered from nephritis, also known as Bright’s disease. While away from the forest, he wrote about its preservation in a Carson Pine Cone article, insisting that when it came to the consideration of recreation, timber, game and farming, all work should be valued according to THE EFFECT ON THE FOREST. There was joy in Santa Fe and Burlington when Estella gave birth to Aldo Starker Leopold on October 22, 1913.
Resting after his experience, he soon had a desk job with the Office of Grazing in Albuquerque, starting there in October 1914. He realized protection of wildlife required cooperation and action by the Forest Service, pressure from anglers and hunters as well as the public. Laws didn’t mean a thing if they weren’t followed and enforced. In 1911, hunters were leading the way with the organization that would become the American Game Protective Association (AGPA). On October 8, 1915, Estelle and Aldo welcomed their second son, Luna Bergere Leopold. A year later, Aldo was visited by more nephritis. He was better in the coming year and Theodore Roosevelt wrote commending him on his writing in the Pine Cone and work with the Albuquerque Game Protective Association, calling Leopold an American inspiration. In July, he was given the Gold Medal from the Permanent Wild Life Protection Fund.
In the summer, Adelina, his first daughter was born He had better health and he resumed hunting. In Albuquerque, Aldo got more involved in the city with a quarterly bulletin, Forward Albuquerque. You could compare his efforts in the area with what Grandfather Starker did in Burlington, encouraging participation of citizens, promoting the arts and creation of parks. He had done great things wherever he lived and was promoted to District 3’s Assistant Forester of Operations. To those who insisted that the planet was supposed to be used and developed, he answered, God started his show a good many millions years before he had any men for an audience – a sad waste of both actors and music. . . it is just barely possible that God himself likes to hear birds sing and see flowers grow. Regarding the building of roads in recreation areas, he offered, to cherish we must see and fondle, and when enough have seen and fondled, there is no wilderness to cherish.
Many praised Leopold for his efforts, while others weren’t so happy. He was offered many jobs and turned them down because he loved being where he was. His wife’s family was there too. On December 18, 1919, another son entered the Leopold household, Aldo Carl Leopold. The great preservationist acknowledged the importance of soil, noting that a troubled farm can be brought back to being productive. Once the soil disappears, not much can be done. Some mentioned that soil loss was an act of God, but Aldo blamed it on the carelessness of man. He argued for saving the wilderness, insisting, it will be much easier and cheaper to preserve, by forethought than to create it after it is gone.
Leopold was offered a position with Forest Products Laboratory in Madison, Wisconsin. He accepted the offer even though it was over four hours away from Burlington. In May 1924, the Gila Wilderness Area became the first wilderness area in a national forest – a proposal he had made over a year before. Little Estella became the second daughter of Aldo and Estella when she was born in 1927. Leopold received a gold medal from Outdoor Life in the autumn of 1931. He was looking for a publisher for his book, Game Management and found Scribner’s, which agreed to do it. In the introduction, Aldo lambasted those who thought they could reign over nature. The central thesis of game management is this: game can be restored by the creative use of the same tools which have heretofore destroyed it – axe, plow, cow, fire and gun. The last paragraph of the book stated:
In short, twenty centuries of ‘progress’ have brought the average citizen a vote, a national anthem, a Ford, a bank account, and a high opinion of himself, but not the capacity to live in high density without befouling and denuding his environment, nor a conviction that such capacity, rather than such density, is the true test of whether he is civilized.
Leopold worked for wildlife preservation, writing, lecturing for many employers. He was offered a position at the University of Wisconsin to teach, among other duties. Aldo had been doing so for many years, but now it would be in a formal way. On the first day of Aldo’s class, Franklin Roosevelt formed the Committee on Wild Life Restoration, which soon had the name, the Duck Committee. It consisted of Thomas Beck, Jay Ding Darling and Leopold. In January 1935, despite falling snow, Aldo corralled his family to gaze at some property encompassing 89 acres. It had a few features: a chicken coop, manure pile, a few elms, blowing sand and numerous ruts. It also had a few fruit trees of the Johnny Appleseed variety and it was soon theirs. It became the Shack and I’ll have more to say about it later.
Aldo’s classes were what education should have been all about years before. His group was outside, even in winter, but he brought the students inside when the weather became really bad. He made his pupils think and ask questions as well as coming up with answers. His use of tests had nothing to do with a teacher being granted tenure, but with the education of the students. Aldo was a role model, never talking down to those listening – and they all were very attentive. Each person was important. Frances Hamerstrom was the first wilderness management graduate student. Receiving her degree from Leopold, she mentioned that he was way ahead of his time in saying Nay to sex discrimination.
Germany invaded Poland in September 1939. Aldo received a correspondence from Alfred Schottlaender, whom he had met on a European trip. Alfred’s wife turned her husband in because he wasn’t that fond of Hitler. He was ordered to Dachau and Buchenwald, but escaped to Kenya. He needed help for his brother who hadn’t left Germany. The preservationist made a few contacts and Alfred’s brother found a home in South Africa. Schottlaender thanked his friend saying: You have given me back the faith, truth, and friendship still existing on earth, which I nearly had lost after having lived to see such terrible disappointments in my own country which I loved so much and served all my life.
When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, Carl became a Marine and was stationed in the Pacific. He wasn’t allowed to say where he was, but his father knew, figuring it out from his son’s descriptions of the local birds. Aldo lost many of his students so they could fight in the war. His teaching load may have diminished but he was still asked to serve on many Wisconsin commissions, including the Conservation Commission. The State Journal applauded the appointment.
Aldo Leonard may not be a popular commissioner with everyone. He, better than any other man in Wisconsin and probably better than any other man in the country, knows what real conservation is and how to achieve it. That will involve stepping on toes, but, fortified by an informed love for nature and having no political axes to grind, he will not be reluctant to step. . . If the people of Wisconsin allow men like Leopold to direct their conservation program, the generations to come will be blessed.
The problem was too many deer. Coyotes were slaughtered because there were too abundant. Aldo suggested that more deer be hunted – they were dieing anyway from the scarcity of food – and that coyotes be brought back to help. The solution made sense even though at one time Leopold had been in favor curbing predators. He had been opposed to fires in the national parks because of their destructive nature, but changed his view on that as well. The man was controversial but he changed, admitted he was wrong and most of the time knew what he was talking about. As a result, he made enemies, meaning he was doing the right thing. He wasn’t perfect as his students found out when he wound up in some water unexpectedly. His answer encompassed a few words that you probably would never hear from nuns, except for the ones in the movie, Sister Act. The students were more impressed with their teacher, seeing that he was human.
The end of the war brought good news when Carl returned home. All Aldo’s graduate students were safe too, but for his class of underclass pupils, two weren’t so lucky. The environmentalist had long felt that violence occurred between men and nature and between human beings – especially with war but outside it too. He started an essay on the situation, which he never finished:
We are now confronted by the fact . . . that wars are no longer won; . . . all wars are lost by all who wage them; the only difference between participants is the degree and kind of losses they sustain. . . . Science has so sharpened the fighter’s sword that it is impossible for him to cut his enemy without cutting himself.
Having owned the Shack for over a decade, the Leopolds really changed it, adding shrubs, flowers, trees and vegetables. Naturally all kinds of wildlife joined the party. Aldo and the crew banded birds and monitored them – something that Leopold had been doing for a long time. One chickadee came back four times. The chicken coop was expanded and improved and the family experienced great joy when they were there. The one exception was when they found the place ransacked. Parents and children were devastated, with each one moving to a corner to cry, except for the boss. It wasn’t that he wasn’t upset, he was as mad as anyone else. He smiled and said: I didn’t know how much this place meant to you. Let’s get busy. That’s what they did without complaint.
After his first illness, Aldo experienced others, including pains on his face. It was diagnosed as facial neuralgia. He carried on. He avoided surgery at first but the pain returned in September 1947. Surgery was done on September 19, with part of the nerve removed. Focus was a problem and remembering names was difficult. He felt that he was mumbling, another effect of the operation. He was slowed down, but in April 1948, he resumed his duties.
On hearing that Oxford University Press agreed to publish his book, Aldo, both Estellas and the daughter’s boyfriend headed over to the Shack. Leopold was weak but enjoyed the time there. On Tuesday they planted trees and Wednesday they saw smoke near a neighbor’s farm. The fire pump was sent for and soon buckets were filled to control the fire. The daughter stayed with her father until he summoned her to call the fire department. Aldo felt chest pains and died of a heart attack without others even noticing. Leopold was born in a mansion, but died at a shack. Many felt that The Shack brought him the greatest riches.
Aldo was one who inspired with his quotes. There is no doubt that a society rooted in soil is more stable than one rooted in pavements. Another one is that regarding civilization: It is a state of ‘mutual and interdependent cooperation’ between human animals, other animals, plants and soils, which may be disrupted at any time by the failure of any of them.
Associate Herbert L. Stoddard praised Aldo: He had a stimulating personality, and in conversation he was able to draw out the thoughts of others, as well as freely sharing the depths of his own brilliant mind. Ding Darling said: Aldo Leopold is recognized in every circle of conservationists as the ranking authority and leading voice in the country. His voluntary contributions to the conservation literature of the country are standards by which all lesser authorities are judged. You can read more on Leopold and his life in the 1996 book by Marybeth Lorbiecki, Aldo Leopold: A Fierce Green Fire.
Though he never asked for them to do so, all of his children became involved in the environment. Besides A Sand County Almanac, which sold more than a million copies, Leopold also penned Game Management, newsletters, reviews, handbooks, articles, as well as over 500 essays. Organizations that he had membership in still exist and follow his precepts. Named after him are: a school in Silver City, New Mexico; the Legacy Trail System in Wisconsin; the Aldo Leopold Wilderness in Gila National Forest; the Leopold Heritage Group. There is a federal institute in the country dedicated to his principles of saving the wilderness. It was established by the U. S. Forest Service at the University of Montana at Missoula. Leopold’s dream was to exist on the earth without ruining it, something that more humans should strive to achieve.