Tag Archives: Walker Hand

Happy Armistice Day

Philadelphia celebrates the Armistice
Philadelphia celebrates the Armistice

Today marks the 100th anniversary of the armistice ending World War I, a conflagration into which America was dragged in 1917, and which sorely affected daily lives everywhere. The situation where Stone worked, at the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia (ANSP), was typical. Just doing the minimum museum maintenance was a challenge. There was a shortage of personnel due to military service; tight funds even led to a decision not to replace one of the janitors when he left. A coal shortage kept the Academy closed altogether two days a week, the public halls in the museum went unheated, and some days even the work rooms went without it; at home, Stone got a coal delivery in January 1918 just in time to keep him from having to let the furnace go out. Down in sleepy, provincial Cape May, where the Navy built two bases at the beginning of the war, long-time friend and “resident ornithologist” Walker Hand told Stone about all the commotion, “I fear that the old quiet days and places are to pass out.”

Stone grew despondent over the war, telling A.K. Fisher in March 1918, “I get very much depressed sometimes & begin to think that even when the war is over it will take so long to get back to the good old times that I shall hardly live to see it.” In January he had told Frank Chapman, “We have a service flag up in my [ANSP] room where the DVOC meets with 17 stars on it [i.e., 17 members were currently serving in the military] – so much for the old Club which celebrated its 28th anniversary last Thursday.” (Stone reported in the April 1919 Auk that a total of 27 DVOCers had served during the war.) One club member, Archibald Benners, died of wounds received in the fighting at Belleau Wood, France. Some of Stone’s fellow DVOC founders had sons who went off to the war.

The American Ornithologists’ Union (AOU) had many members who served overseas and three – Eric Brooke Dunlop of Winnipeg, Manitoba, Walter Freeman McMahon of New York City, and Douglas Clifford Mabott of Washington, D.C. – made the ultimate sacrifice. Stone noted in the April 1920 Auk that the Belgian Ornithological Society was getting back up on its feet after German occupation, and had lost two of its officers (secretary and treasurer) as wartime casualties.

Turns out, of course, that World War I didn’t end up being “the war to end all wars.” Long-time AOU treasurer Jonathan Dwight was outraged at German U-boat atrocities during the war, telling Stone, “It is so stupid of the German beasts to make sure of everybody hating them for their evil deeds – for all time!” – but there was even greater German evil on the horizon to further ensure lasting worldwide hatred for at least a good long time, if not all time, and leading to yet another global conflagration. With our awareness of what was to come, we may view the euphoria attendant with the announcement of the armistice 100 years ago today with a bit of wistfulness, but it shouldn’t stop us from celebrating what a beautiful moment it was in our history.

Walker Hand: A Nashural Born Poet?

Witmer and Lillie Stone stayed with their good friends Walker and Laura Hand on many trips to Cape May over the years. Hand sent Stone a letter in anticipation of one such visit in September, 1925, telling him, “Come along, ‘the latch string is out.’” Hand also included a humorous poem in the letter. I quickly realized it wasn’t a classic for the ages, but I put it in Witmer Stone: The Fascination of Nature because it was a nice example of Hand’s humor. I had a distant recollection of Ogden Nash poetry from my junior high days, and there was something “Nash-ian” about Hand’s effort. Here is the passage from the book (“The Dr.” is Stone; “the Point” is Cape May Point):

 “The north winds do blow and we shall have snow and what will the Dr. do then? Poor thing/ He’ll to go the Point, search out every joint, and see many birds on the wing, wing, wing.” Not exactly up there with Shelley or Coleridge, or even Ogden Nash, but give him points for trying.

Imagine my surprise the other night when I discovered it isn’t just “up there” with Ogden Nash – it is Ogden Nash! I came across “Ma, What’s a Banker?” in a Nash collection, and it begins, “The North wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will the banker do then, poor thing?/ Will he go to the barn To keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing?” Well, that explains why it reminded me of Ogden Nash.

Hand’s wife Laura had a sense of humor, too – in fact, she got her last laugh on everybody after she died. I found her grave in a Cape May Court House cemetery, and was puzzled by the incomplete birth date – just “18  ” with no decade or year indicated. I thought maybe the gravestone mason wasn’t sure of the birth year when cutting the inscription, figured he’d wait to finish it when he found out, then forgot about it.


Laura’s granddaughter, Laura Hedrick, cleared up the mystery for me: People used to ask Laura Hand how old she was, and she always refused to tell them. She imagined that when she died people with inquiring minds would run to the cemetery to read her gravestone and finally find out her age, so she arranged to have the year left off. Presumably, there were some disappointed busybodies visiting Laura Hand’s grave in the immediate aftermath of her demise.

Early April in Cape May

93 years ago today, Witmer Stone headed off for a weekend at Cape May. He stayed with Walker Hand and did at least some of his birding that weekend with his old Cape May friend. It was early spring, and some winter resident birds were still lingering: Common Loons, a flock of 20 Bonaparte’s Gulls near the Coast Guard Station at Cape May Point (CMP), five snipe flushed on a later afternoon walk, and a sapsucker visiting its borings in a hickory stand at CMP. Stone and Hand cornered a Horned Grebe in shallow water on a branch of Cape Island Creek. They expected the bird to take flight to escape; to Stone’s “amazement, however, it suddenly dived into the mud and shallow water,” slipping past them into deeper water. Stone also studied a Pied-billed Grebe on the inner Harbor at close quarters while he “remained concealed” – one of many times in BSOCM that we find Stone hiding behind vegetation or a structure, sometimes crawling on hands and knees, to get a close look at a bird in the days when birding optics were not of the present caliber.


Spring was in the air, and Stone had some “first of spring” sightings of Pine Warbler (6 males feeding on the ground in an old field next to some pines, turning over leaves in their quest for insects), Green Heron, Piping Plover (6 birds on the Cape May beach), and Chipping and Field Sparrows. A pair of kingfishers cavorting over Lake Lily flew low over the water with stiff, spasmodic wingbeats, “the effect being of a body bouncing up and down on an elastic surface.” Birds were also on the move. Thousands of scoters were streaming down the coast, around CMP, and up the Bay. At the Fill – the part of town (now built over) where silt from the Harbor dredging had been deposited, and which had gone from grassland to shrubland in Stone’s time – a silent flock of Robins passed over, heading north, and 25 Flickers feeding in a burnt-over area there probably indicated a recent influx of migrants. Also on the Fill, Stone and Hand flushed a flock of 67 Black Ducks and two Blue-winged Teal which all took off together from a shallow pool of water and headed in the direction of Jarvis Sound to the north.

Stone had some nice raptor sightings that weekend as well. He said that most wintering Cooper’s Hawks were probably shot, making them scarcer as the season advanced, but he found one in a yard on Washington Street “gliding about among the trees to the consternation of the Grackles which were feeding there.” He also saw a Bald Eagle on the wing, struggling to hold its position against a strong northwest wind.


A Cape May March Weekend c.1925

On this date 90 years ago (3/23/1925), Witmer Stone wrapped up a weekend trip to Cape May. He had finished off a note to T.S. Palmer on Friday, March 20th with “I am off to Cape May tonight to spend the weekend with Hand.” That referred, of course, to his great friend Walker Hand, described by Stone as “the ‘resident ornithologist’ of Cape May.” Hand was probably really more of a perceptive, knowledgeable outdoorsman than an “ornithologist,” but he and Stone taught each other a lot about birds over the years. In 1897, Hand built the house he lived in for the rest of his life at Washington St. & Madison Ave. in Cape May, now the “Inn at the Park” bed & breakfast:


In addition to an apparent influx of Field Sparrows that had wintered to the south, Stone had some Cape May “first of spring” sightings that weekend for Wilson’s Snipe (the same name as in Stone’s day, although there has been some nomenclatural flux in the interim), Pine Warbler, Eastern Towhee, and Chipping Sparrow, and a “last of spring” sighting of a Vesper Sparrow. Spring was certainly in the air: Robins were in full song, Song Sparrows were performing courtship flights, a male Red-winged Blackbird singing on the South Cape May marsh engaged in futile pursuit of two passing females, a Carolina Wren singing a “peculiar rolling song” had Stone uncertain what species he was hearing until he “caught sight of the singer in the act,” and a Horned Grebe in full breeding plumage was preening on the oceanfront (Stone records that the grebe “fairly leaned over backward in the operation”).


Not everything in the air that weekend was spring-like and pleasant. Stone found a dozen Turkey Vultures on the Bayshore perched near the carcass of a hog that had been disposed of by a local farmer. The skeleton was surrounded by vulture footprints out to a distance of 30 feet, and the ground was “flecked with white downy feathers lost [by the vultures] in their contests for choice bits of carrion.” Another flock of 25 vultures was roosting at a pigsty by Pond Creek Meadows. Stone studied them at close range and noted that the ruff of feathers sticking up off the birds’ necks looked like “a rolled collar drawn over the head from behind like a sort of mantilla.” (How many times have you come across that word in the ornithological literature – or anywhere else?)

Vultures, porcine pleasantries, and all, it sounds like a nice, early spring weekend at the Cape. In 1921, after summering in Cape May for four years, Stone started making regular spring trips there. He probably often stayed with Hand, who, according to Stone, was largely unrecognized by his fellow townsmen for the “extent and soundness of his natural history knowledge and the esteem in which he was held by naturalists elsewhere.”