Posted on May 22, 2001
For Better or For Worse:
The History of the Katharine Ordway Natural History Study Area,
Inver Grove Heights, Minnesota
Kelly M. Paulson
Abstract
The history of the Katharine Ordway Natural History Study Area (KONHSA),
explains the development of a 278-acre preserve in Inver Grove Heights,
Minnesota, owned and managed by Macalester College. The land contains many rare
plant species and community types. Since its purchase in 1967, it has been a
place of education, research, a tool for outreach, as well as a source of debate
and frustration. The various uses and degree of success of KONHSA have been
greatly influenced by the individuals involved with it; therefore, this is
largely a history of people and the evolution of Environmental Studies at
Macalester College.
"There is a
little piece of the globe which is Macalester’s in a very special way.
It is not too well-known by the Mac’s [sic] themselves, the very people
for whom it should be a matter of interest and pride.
This is partly because it is hidden away and partly because we have not
given publicity to it.”
--Richard J. Christman, Mac
Weekly 24 January 1972
“The history of the area was bumpy…it’s kind of a bumpy
tenure that the area had. And you
don’t really hear much about Ordway anymore, near as I can tell. No one really talks about it any more.”
--Edward Hill, interview March 2001
“We can chart our future clearly and
wisely only when we know the path which has led to the present.”
--Adlai Stevenson, speech in Richmond, Virginia, 20
September 1952
Author’s Preface: Methods, Documentation, and Acknowledgements
The information in this paper comes from a
variety of sources. A patchy
archive, dedicated to information about the Katharine Ordway Natural History
Study Area, exists in a file drawer in the Environmental Studies Office.
The Development Office provided a file of papers that were largely
related to exchanges of money and land acquisitions.
Janet Ebaugh acquired a folder from Shelley Shreffler, which had a
variety of documents. Finally,
Macalester College itself has an archive located in the DeWitt Wallace Library,
where I pored over newspaper clippings, college publications, and college course
catalogs. Even with all these
archival documents put together, however, it was difficult to create an accurate
picture of the history of this area without consulting primary sources.
(I did learn from this crash course in archival work that sometimes holes
in the archives speak for themselves; for example, a period with few records
probably corresponds to a period that no one thought Ordway was important, or at
least not important enough to save any documentation about.)
The following people were instrumental as
primary sources, whether they were formally interviewed or were useful as
consultants to help give the project direction:[1]
Richard Christman,[2] Mark Davis,[3]
Janet Ebaugh,[4] Carol Gersmehl,[5]
Alexander Hill,[6] Edward Hill,[7]
Daniel Hornbach,[8] Deborah Kervliet,[9]
Sharron Nelson,[10] Patty Pfalz,[11]
Aldemaro Romero,[12] Shelley Shreffler,[13] David Southwick,[14] James Stewart,[15]
and Elizabeth Svenson.[16]
It is also important to recognize that not all the endnotes in this paper
are dedicated to citations only. Endnotes
will occasionally reward the persistent reader with juicy details that simply
couldn’t find a place in the body of the text.
The appendices contain copies of some of the more interesting documents
in Ordway’s history. Most of them
are mentioned in the paper, but it is nevertheless interesting to see them in
their entirety. Figures, including
maps and charts, referred to in the text are found in the Environmental Studies
Office, Olin Rice 249, Macalester College.
I must also emphasize that this is not the
whole story. Even with all the
documents and interviews that went into the creation of this project, there are
still stories left untold by this paper, and more to be written in the future.
However, with the materials I had, I attempted to be as fair and
objective as possible, and I feel that this paper quite accurately reflects the
story thus far, and hopefully it can be used to chart the direction of
Ordway’s future.
Introduction
The Katharine
Ordway Natural History Study Area (often abbreviated as KONHSA or Ordway) is a
278-acre[17]
parcel of land owned by Macalester College.
Ordway is located in Inver Grove Heights, just south of Saint Paul, on
the Mississippi River. Beginning in
the 1950’s, with the rise of ecology and environmental issues, Macalester
College was keeping its collective eyes peeled for the possibility of acquiring
a field station for the purpose of study, research, and prestige.
In 1967, Macalester finally realized these dreams, and purchased
approximately 276 acres. Since
then, this land has been variously used, misused, and forgotten.
Ordway has been a source of some reputation: Macalester is one of only
four liberal arts colleges in Minnesota, and the only college in the Twin
Cities, to boast a field station.[18]
Thousands of people have used the area for education, recreation, and
research. On the other hand, the
area has occasionally been a thorn in the side of faculty, administrators,
benefactresses and benefactors, and caretakers.
I have researched the history of the Katharine
Ordway Natural History Area from the time it was a mere dream to the present.
I will attempt, in this paper, not to present a comprehensive tome of all
the documents and correspondence relating to KONHSA, but to provide a picture of
how Ordway evolved, and how it fits in to the evolution of Macalester College in
particular.
The
Land
Native
Americans, probably of the Mound Builders group (sometimes known as the Dakota),
once occupied the land that we now know as Ordway.[19]
Near present-day Ordway is an area called Pine Bend, where archeological
research by the University of Minnesota has discovered Native American
artifacts, and it appears that there was a culture along the river that was
quite dependent on the native mussel populations for food and other uses.[20]
In
1852, the townships of Inver Grove Heights and Rosemount were settled, mostly by
European immigrants of German and Irish heritage.[21]
With the arrival of European settlers, the impact on the land changed
drastically. From 1850-1870, it was
used mostly for mixed subsistence farming.[22]
However, it soon became valuable property for rail transportation as well
as residences.[23]
By 1871, according to the plat book of that year, two railroad lines, the
Chicago Rock Island and Pacific Railroad and the Chicago and North Western
Railway were already criss-crossing the land that is now Ordway.[24],[25]
These railroad lines are still there and still carry trains through the land.[26]
Nearer the road, according to Richard Christman, there was once an
electric passenger streetcar line that was put in
after WWI, about 1923, and which was abandoned in 1929 because of the
stock market crash. This streetcar went from St. Paul to Hastings and was
evidently destined to continue to Rochester, although that portion of the line
was never completed. In fact, when
the driveway at Ordway was blacktopped, they found a culvert buried under the
drive that had been used under the old streetcar rails.[27]
The
land has been grazed, cultivated, and harvested. At one time (probably in the first half of the 20th
century) the land was “a holding area for shipping cattle to slaughterhouses
in St. Paul…30-35 years ago you could see remnants of the old holding pens out
there.[28]”
In 1919, the Rand family purchased the land, and after Mr. Rand’s
death, the Hulmes purchased the land.[29]
Both of these owners[30]
used the land for cattle grazing and small-scale farming, and there was also a
Boy Scout camp[31] established by Mr. Rand on
the property in the first half of the 1900’s.[32],[33]
According to Christman, the Hulmes
harvested the watercress that grew near the spring[34]
down by River Lake and brought it into the city on a truck to sell to
restaurants and at the farmer’s market.[35]
In the 1950’s, the land was incorporated into Inver Grove Heights, and
the increased taxes made farming even more impractical.[36]
In 1965, the City of Inver Grove Heights was formed.[37]
In 1967, Macalester College purchased the
parcel from the Hulmes.[38]
Since the Macalester purchase, the land has been equally subject to
human-effected changes, but this time with a different intent.
According to Christman, several prairie burns targeted at sumac control
were performed with the cooperation of the Inver Grove Heights Fire Department
in the 1970’s.[39]
From 1981-1997, most of the land was burned several times.
An intensive property-wide sumac clearance project took place in 1988,
and prairie seeds were sown in several areas as recently as 1990.[40]
The current Katharine Ordway Natural History
Study Area is a nearly 280-acre parcel of land including at least four distinct
types of plant communities and frontage on the Mississippi River.
According to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources’s Natural
Heritage Program, the area encompassed by Ordway now contains diverse native
plant communities, such as a dry prairie, an oak woodland-brushland, mesic
prairie, and a black ash swamp.[41]
Several plant species that are endangered, threatened, or of special
concern have also found a haven on the Ordway property, including tall nut-rush
(Scleria triglomerata),[42]
tick-trefoil (Desmodium illinoense),[43]
tubercled rein-orchid (Platanthera
flava),[44]
kitten-tails (Besseya bullii),[45]
and lilia-leaved twayblade (Liparis
lilfolia).[46] According to Aldemaro
Romero, “The area has been noted by the DNR as being the highest area of
biodiversity for the entire [Dakota] County,[47]”
and Elizabeth Svenson called Ordway “a jewel, it’s really a gem…it’s got
one of the nicest remnant prairies in the Metro Area.[48],[49]”
Figures 1-5 are various graphic representations of Ordway, including air
photos from different periods of the 20th century, a topographic map,
and a hand-drawn map; these are useful for visualizing the change through time
as well as the geography of the area.
The topography and geology of the area were
influenced greatly by the last great glaciation, which ended about 10,000 years
ago. The Mississippi River valley
was carved out by the floods resulting from the melting glaciers, and most of
the regional soils are glacial till. The
bedrock geology of southeastern Minnesota consists of Paleozoic marine shale and
near-shore sandstone deposits,[50]
and the larger surficial boulders that dot the Ordway property are also a result
of what the melting glaciers left behind.[51]
There are a few temporary ponds and wetland areas at Ordway, as well as
Pratt Pond, which contains water year-round. Indeed, for a relatively small
area, KONHSA boasts a great variety of different types of landscape, which makes
it an interesting template for educational and research purposes.
Ordway has frontage on River Lake, a 110-acre,[52] shallow backwater lake of
the Mississippi River, and Macalester owns the peninsula that projects out
between the lake and its river. River
Lake, once known as Kellerman’s Slough,[53],[54]
used to be even more shallow before the dam was built near Hastings, when
the water level was raised by about three feet.[55]
Currently, River Lake is at most three to four feet deep, mostly silted
in, and full of carp but with little other aquatic life such as mussels.
[56]
Macalester College also owns the peninsula that juts out into the
Mississippi to create River Lake. This
peninsula is, during wet seasons, an island, and is essentially always an island
in many ways since it is isolated and has very rarely been ventured onto.
In the late 1980’s there was a mayfly hatch
on River Lake and in the nearby river; mayflies are indicators of good water
quality, and a hatch like that one hadn’t happened since the 1960’s.
One such hatch occurred in 1966, during the Wabasha Steamboat Days
carnival. The results of this “indicator of river health” were
disastrous (and disgusting, probably) for carnival-goers: “By 11 p.m., six
inches of squirming insects covered the carousel.
45 minutes later, mayflies clogged the radiators of the diesel-powered
generators, and the carnival shut down.[57]”
Studies of mayflies in the Mississippi from 1958-69 found that the
critters were conspicuously absent from the Twin Cities all the way south to
Lake Pepin due to the sewage inflow from the Twin Cities.
With the advent of better and more sewage treatment plants, the mayfly
population increased, and the summer (June-August) of 1986 witnessed 22 large
mayfly hatches on the upper stretches of the river.
The naturalist at Ordway in the
mid-1980’s, David Clugston, found more evidence of the improving health of the
Mississippi River:
Just this year
[1987] I found a beaver lodge on the end of that peninsula and also some giant
floater [mussels], which aren’t supposed to be here because of the water
quality. Those are hopeful signs
that the water quality is improving, but we have a long way to go.
With the waste-treatment plant five miles upriver and 3M Chemolite
downstream and a refinery upstream and one downstream, this isn’t the
healthiest stretch of the river. Everything that comes from the Twin Cities finds a resting
spot here.[58]
The presence of the river and the backwater
lake, plus the peninsula, all make the geography of KONHSA and its potential
that much more interesting.
“The
Lady Who Saved the Prairies”--and
her brother
We must take a few pages to introduce the
woman who made this story possible: Katharine Ordway, a great figure in the
history of American land conservation.
Katharine Ordway was born 3 April 1899 to
Lucius Pond and Jessie Gilman Ordway. She
was their only daughter, and the second youngest of five children.
At the time of her birth, her 37-year old father was already on his way
to fortune working for a plumbing and heating firm, of which he eventually
became President. By 1905, he was
nearly a millionaire. Together with
a friend, he bought sixty percent of the stock of a struggling mining company,
Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing (now more commonly known as 3M), which went
on to multiply his millions.[59]
Growing up in St. Paul, MN, Katharine enjoyed
the sea of tallgrass prairie that still existed at that time, and was saddened
to watch the prairie slowly disappear over her lifetime.
She attended the University of Minnesota, and graduated cum laude with
degrees in Botany and Art. Katharine
Ordway also attended Yale Medical School before dropping the idea of a medical
career. Later in her life, she went to Columbia University to study
biology and land-use planning.[60]
Her studies are early indications of her interests in ecology and land
conservation.
When her father died in 1948, she and her four
brothers, including Richard Ordway, were left an $18.8 million estate.[61]
Finally, in her 50’s and 60’s, she had the resources to reinforce her
beliefs in land protection, and eventually became one of the greatest private
contributors to natural area conservation in American history, second only to
John D. Rockefeller, Jr.[62]
Katharine was described by a friend as a quiet, delicate woman—“a
bird fallen out of the nest.[63]”
She was a reserved woman, and modest: the fact that she was the donor who
helped the Nature Conservancy purchase the large Konza Prairie reserve in Kansas
was not revealed until after her death. Katharine
Ordway donated money that ultimately helped to save over 31,000 acres of Great
Plains prairies[64]
(as well as land in other parts of the country). Alexander Hill, who knows the Ordway family quite well, said
that Katharine Ordway was a very “forward-looking person” with respect to
her early sense of need for land preservation.[65]
According to Christman’s understanding, she was quite frail and weak
towards the end of her life, when she came to visit her namesake in Minnesota.[66]
She died in 1979.[67]
The Ordway-Macalester Connection
Richard Ordway, Katharine’s brother, served
as a Trustee of Macalester during the era when members of all of St. Paul’s
high-profile families sat on the Board.[68]
As a major stockholder in his father’s 3M corporation, Ordway fit right
in. Richard was a highly educated
man, having attended St. Paul Academy and then Yale.
During the 1960’s, he was a prominent member (and often, the chairman)
of countless organizations and committees in the Twin Cities, and in 1961 he was
elected Chair of Macalester’s Development Council (which was founded in 1956,
and had already raised $11,114,787 in its first five years).[69]
Ultimately, Richard was the one to request a donation to Macalester from
his sister.
Richard Ordway’s daughter, Pondie Nicholson,
followed her father on Macalester’s Board of Trustees, along with her husband,
and they were followed by their son, Ford Nicholson, who is currently a Trustee
at Macalester and also an alumnus. According
to Hill, the Ordways continue to have a “very strong” relationship with
Macalester.[70]
In the Beginning (1966-1970)
Optimism and a sense of common, lofty goals
for a field station characterized the early years surrounding the acquisition of
Ordway. The newly emerging field of
ecology and the realization that land preservation is important coincided with a
generous gift from Katharine Ordway, making the initial land purchase possible,
as well as providing for a healthy endowment to keep the area running.
The Biology department and Macalester College as a whole believed in the
necessity and utility of such a natural history area, for students from
Macalester, other ACTC schools, and local elementary and secondary schools.
The area was also considered useful for research.[71]
However, the blind optimism of these proposals and the lack of any real
management plan, combined with the excitement of acquisition, would eventually
lead to politics and infighting regarding some of these unresolved issues.
An Early Proposal
Although some sources say that Macalester was
hunting for a field station since the 1950’s,[72]
the first tangible and dated evidence of Macalester’s desire to do so is “A
Proposal to the Charles F. Kettering Foundation for a Field Biology Laboratory
for Macalester College,” from 21 November 1966.[73]
This five-page proposal aims to secure funding for a field station, and
begins by citing the growing need for ecology and environmental study,
especially in a college in a metro area. Then
it hints that “the college now, fortunately, has an opportunity to purchase
278 acres of land that meet all the needs of a field biology laboratory,” and
goes on to describe the unique habitats which characterize this site.
“Ownership of the land and a grant for its
development and use will put Macalester into the forefront of colleges in this
increasingly important field,” the proposal predicts.
More lofty goals and predictions follow: “students will be able to do
field work as a regular part of their course requirements and faculty members
will be able to carry on meaningful research in environmental biology,” and
predicts that “about 350 Macalester students would use the field laboratory
each year.” It also foresees the
opportunity and necessity for shared use with “five other private liberal arts
colleges” (the ACTC schools) and “elementary and secondary schools.”
The proposal dedicates an entire section to the possible ways that a
field station could contribute to new and improved teaching and research methods
at all levels, including a better ability to train teachers-to-be graduating
from Macalester, which could make the school “a pace-setter among colleges in
teaching and research in environmental biology.”
Finally, the proposal requests a grant of $300,000 over two years in
order to “purchase the land and bring it into development and use,” adding
that the Foundation would be kept abreast of the use of the area.[74]
This is clearly an optimistic proposal;
however, some of its predictions were indeed proven correct in the decade that
followed. Apparently, this proposal
did not secure any funds from the Kettering Foundation, since there is no
further mention of the foundation in the archives and funding was ultimately
secured elsewhere. This document is
useful, however, since it sets forth many standards for Macalester’s treatment
of a field station.
Acquisition
It is not every day an institution has an
opportunity to buy such a vast acreage with such a variety of ecotypes, so the
hopes for a field station were not easily dashed.
Before the Kettering proposal was complete, John W. Seale, the
College’s General Secretary, had already spoken with Richard Ordway,[75]
the brother of Katharine Ordway and a trustee at Macalester.
A letter from Seale states that Richard had asked his sister
if she [Katharine
Ordway] would make a gift to Macalester, and she indicated that she would.
He further stated that he was going to write to her that evening and tell
her that President [Harvey] Rice and Al Cole [on the Executive Committee of the
Reader’s Digest Association] would be in touch with her about a gift
possibility…Dr. Rice wrote to her at once.[76]
In fact, President Rice wrote to Miss Ordway
that very day.[77]
Evidently, his letter was effective, since less than a year later
President Harvey M. Rice was writing to Miss Ordway at a hotel in Tucson, this
time to thank her “very, very much” for her offer of $150,000 to purchase
275 acres of land. According to
this correspondence, it appears that Ordway had agreed to send $5,000
immediately in order to get an option on the land “and set the necessary steps
in motion to purchase it and plan the steps for its use as soon as we can obtain
it.[78]”
On 13 February 1967, a memo from President
Rice landed on the desks of Dr. Edwin J. Robinson, Jr. (Biology Department
Chair), Mr. John Dozier (VP of Financial Affairs at Macalester), Dr. Lucius
Garvin (Executive VP of Macalester), Dr. L. Daniel Frenzel, Jr. (Biology), and
Professor James Albert Jones (Biology). This
memo made known Katharine Ordway’s grant to Macalester to purchase land for a
field station. The land, Rice said,
had been selected by members of the Biology Department as suitable for its
laboratory and conservation potential; President Rice called the budding field
station a “great new facility,[79]”
and even signed the memo in purple pen; clearly the mood of the day (if the
color of ink is an appropriate indication) was excitement and anticipation.
Less than two months later, on 3 April 1967, a
deed was transferred from J.W. and Ruth E. Hulme to Macalester College.[80]
This represented the birth of Macalester’s 276-acre natural history
area. Thanks to the $150,000 gift
from Katharine Ordway and a later matching donation by DeWitt and Lila Wallace
(DeWitt of Reader’s Digest fortune), plus about $4,500 from Thomas Savage (the
son of Louise Savage, whose father had been a trustee at Macalester and was of
the Cochran family,[81]
another big donor family and namesake of Cochran Lounge in the recently
demolished Student Union), the area had the funds and endowment that it needed
according to the original proposal to the Kettering Foundation.
The Wallace donation was part of a larger
College fundraising campaign known as the “Challenge Campaign,” which began
in 1963 when DeWitt and Lila offered Macalester $10 million if Macalester could
raise an equal amount in ten years. In
fact, President Robinson was able to announce the campaign’s successful end
over a year early—in less than nine years they had come up with $10,048,751
from 10,858 alumni and friends of the college.
Thanks to the nearly $40 million ultimately raised by this campaign
(including matching funds), Macalester built a dozen new major buildings on
campus (including Olin and Rice, the Janet Wallace Fine Arts Center, the
stadium, the chapel, and others) and Robinson, obviously touched by the spirit
of giving, said at the campaign celebration “the academic program is richer
by…a host of supporting facilities and programs from the 280-acre Katharine
Ordway Natural History Study Area along the Mississippi River.[82]”
Everything was coming up roses for Macalester, and for Ordway by
extension, in those first years.
Gratitude and Naming
How to show gratitude for such a generous
gift? Since so many buildings and
rooms on campus are named after prominent donors, it makes consistent sense that
Macalester would name the new natural history area after one of America’s
greatest conservation supporters, financially speaking.
Before a name was decided upon, a good deal of correspondence was
exchanged between Macalester and Katharine Ordway.
Eddie Hill, Biology, remembers writing a thank
you letter to Katharine Ordway, on the very typewriter that still sits in the
Biology student reading room: “I remember typing that thing about three times,
because it had to be perfect…couldn’t have any strikeovers, no white-outs,
no erasures. But I finally got it
typed.[83]”
Obviously, it was important to please Katharine Ordway and make it known
that Macalester was grateful for her generosity.
President
Rice wrote to Katharine Ordway on 12 May 1967, thanking her profusely for her
“wonderful gift of 500 shares of Minnesota Mining stock.”
Rice goes on to overuse the adjective “wonderful,” which ultimately
becomes a bit patronizing. The
letter closes by asking Ordway if the college might name “this wonderful
acquisition the Katharine Ordway Field Laboratory of Macalester College?[84]”
Evidently the usually shy and self-effacing Katharine Ordway decided to
allow the land to be christened in her honor,[85]
since on 6 June 1967 President Rice wrote to Katharine Ordway
thanking her for her letter (of 1 June) in which she had indicated
that
we may give your name to our wonderful outdoor biology and conservation area
which you have made possible for us! We
shall call it the Katharine Ordway Natural History Study Area of Macalester
College.This will give it a distinction and a definition, and at the
same time an identification that I hope will be as pleasing to you as it has to
us.[86]
And
so it was, or nearly so; the name did undergo some streamlining, and today it is
known as the Katharine Ordway Natural History Study Area, or the equally
unwieldy KONHSA, or the most common on-campus vernacular name: Ordway.[87]
Publicity
On 14 May 1967, an article appeared in the
Minneapolis Star-Tribune with the headline “Macalester Buys 276 Acres of Land.[88]”
The next day’s edition of the St. Paul Pioneer Press reported that
Macalester had purchased only 272 acres in Inver Grove Heights Township.
Let’s chalk this up to Twin City rivalry, and not worry about the
numbers, although this time we are loath to admit that Minneapolis got it right.
The Pioneer Press went into somewhat greater detail, however, reporting
that the site included “a 60-acre lake, a half mile of frontage on the
Mississippi river [sic], a flood plain forest, an oak forest, several acres of
prairie land, several ponds, two springs, and a marsh.”
The article further stated that Edwin J. Robinson, then Chair of the
Biology Department, predicted the site would be used “by about 350 students a
year for field study,[89]”
the same figure cited in the Kettering proposal.
The 1967-1968 Macalester College course
catalog mentioned KONHSA in the description of the Biology Department, calling
it a “newly-acquired 270-acre[90]
field biology teaching area near the campus, where teachers and students have
ready access to natural aquatic and terrestrial habitats adapted to ecological
study.[91]”
Since this description was written before Ordway had really been used by
any classes, it is rather vague and noncommittal, yet it does sound quite
optimistic.
The August 1967 edition of the Macalester
Report shouted “College Acquires a Field Laboratory” on the front page,
enthusiastically but a few months too late.
It calls Ordway a “long-sought biology laboratory…the finest for its
intended use of any that the Biology Department has inspected since its search
for such a facility began five years ago.[92]”
This orgy of positive publicity and goodwill was short-lived, albeit
flattering; the politeness and PR were quickly usurped by internal and external
politics.
Early Disagreements Regarding Ordway
While the initial proposals and mission
statements contained therein were full of ideas and optimism, they were notably
lacking realistic plans of how the area would be managed by the college.
One early example of the problem created by this lack of planning is
illustrated by the following exchange of memos.
In June 1967, John Dozier wrote a memo to Dr. E.J. Robinson, in which he
first thanks him for a tour of the area, then quickly gets down to the real
reason he was writing to the Biology Department Chair: “to suggest the pro
forma concept of operation for this property which I feel that we should
follow.” Dozier continues:
There seems
to me to be no reason to set up any separate committee or administrative
hierarchy to deal with the Field Station operation.
It seems clear that the program is a natural extension of the Biology
Department, and that therefore all administrative matters should be handled by
the department chairman and his staff.
After stating this, he goes on to recommend
that Ordway’s maintenance should go directly through Physical Plant, as would
any on-campus facility, and that they should “work out an estimated annual
operating budget at an early date.[93]”
This certainly seems like a good idea, especially in retrospect.
This memo also started a tradition of the Biology Department having some
management power, but very little responsibility for the upkeep of the area.
A few weeks later, a memo was sent from
President Rice to Dozier, mentioning a memo from Dr. Garvin sent two weeks
earlier, which has since disappeared. At
any rate, President Rice seemed concerned about the operation of Ordway; more
specifically, who was responsible for overseeing this.
President Rice asked Dozier to arrange a mini-think tank with some other
faculty members in order to develop a workable plan for the operation of Ordway
before school started again in September: “since this activity and the grant
which makes it possible are both pioneering ventures on our part in many
respects, perhaps we had better formalize our understandings about the project
and work out arrangements and procedures satisfactory to all concerned.[94]”
Clearly a great deal of the problem had arisen from miscommunications or
a complete failure to communicate between academic departments and
administrative offices. Unfortunately, it appears by this example that many such
disagreements about how to best run KONHSA were in place before the field
station was even fully operational.
Nearly
a year later, on 1 May 1968, Dr. E.J. Robinson wrote a memo to Dan Frenzel
regarding a proposal to supervise Ordway as a committee.
He begins coldly:
I
have explained to you, to no avail, that the administrative decision had long
since been made that the area will be administered by the Biology Department,
through the chairman [him/myself]…[I] believe that this department is in an
especially good position in being solely responsible for the use of the area. This would not preclude a committee within the department.
However, I do not choose to delegate the responsibility I have in this
matter…In the meantime, I retain the responsibility for the use of the area.[95]
On the same day, Robinson wrote a memo complaining to Dean Kenneth Goodrich, which
opens,
FYI,
in case some complaint should come to you. Dan is continuously irritated that there is not a director (presumably,
he thinks it would be him) and a committee to operate the Ordway Natural History
Area like a full-blown, independent field station…No one else in the
department has supported Dan’s repeated demands that a special committee be
set up. Three of [sic] the six
biology faculty have no particular interest in the area, anyway, and don’t
care how it is managed[96]…Dan
has been consistent in NOT offering any suggestions for the development and use
of the area, other than that a committee should be created. It is quite possible that his prolonged irritation in not having his way
in this matter will bring him to you.[97]
This
is just one more specific example of the bickering that surrounded the area’s
early history. This also marks some
of the first documented evidence of referring to Ordway as “the area,” which
always seems to carry some resentful connotations. These early disagreements seem to have inaugurated a
tradition of miscommunication and passing the buck when it came to Ordway’s
management responsibilities.
First-Year Usage
Despite the aforementioned disputes over how
to run Ordway, Biology Professor Dr. James Albert Jones[98]
was named the first Director of Ordway. In
the spring of 1967, even before the final boundaries and purchase arrangements
had been made, there were about 85 Introductory Biology students using Ordway
for lab studies. In the summer of
1967, two seniors carried out independent research projects on River Lake.
During the 1967-68 academic year, over 770 Macalester students alone
passed through KONHSA, in Introductory Biology labs, Field Zoology, Botany,
Ecology, or as independent researchers.[99]
This was an impressive turnout for the first year of a new station that
was not even fully furnished and was allegedly plagued by management problems.
It is also quite indicative of the enthusiasm and initiative of faculty
and students regarding the potential of Ordway, and it is certainly impressive
that E.J. Robinson’s press-worthy prediction of 350 students a year was more
than doubled in the first year.
A building with an apartment and a lab was
built on the Ordway property in 1969. According to Biology Professor Eddie Hill, the building at
Ordway was originally built to serve as a place for people to stay for a few
nights; however, its practicality as a field station was actually compromised by
its proximity to Macalester.[100]
In some ways, this is a problem that has continually plagued Ordway—it
is just far enough away to be forgotten about, but not far enough away to seem
as precious a resource as it really is.
However, the distance from Macalester did
necessitate a position of Resident Naturalist, or Caretaker, or Assistant
Director—by any name, this was a staff person who lived at Ordway and
organized lab and class visits to the area.
This has always been a rather undervalued position.
“The people who were the caretakers, if you want to call them that,
were in essence actually the directors—but they were called caretakers—they
actually lived out there, and the reason was to keep vandalism at a minimum.[101]”
Of course, it is quite a job for one person to oversee nearly 280 acres
(without fences or many boundary markers) plus the river frontage where it is
difficult to control outside access. The
first person to move into the Ordway building and the Resident Naturalist
position was a Biology instructor by the name of Miss Joan A. Sims.[102]
The summer of ’69, the first summer of full
operation for Ordway, saw enthusiasm and interest pour in, again overshadowing
the various quarrels regarding Ordway’s management.
Professor Jones carefully documented the utilization and overtures of
interest. In March, an announcement
went out to all faculty regarding the opportunity for nineteen student research
fellowships at the area, which promised to provide both the students and the
faculty with a healthy stipend.[103]
A Scout leader wrote Professor Jones expressing interest in visiting the
area to fulfill badge requirements.[104]
A teacher from Monroe Junior/Senior High School in St. Paul wrote Jones
to thank him for hosting his students for a weekend, gushing: “Never have I,
in the seven years that I have been teaching biology, observed the excited
responses and behavior on the part of senior high school students that I did
observe this past weekend.[105]”
One imagines that enthusiasm and utilization of the area must have been
high those first years, probably thanks to its novelty (and the relative novelty
of ecology as a discipline) and the publicity Ordway received.
Also in 1969, Ordway hosted elementary teachers for a summer institute in
field biology. Jones’s report
also mentioned that the field station was received with interest and favor in
Inver Grove Heights—from groups as diverse as the PTA, bird-watching clubs,
and Boy Scout troops.[106]
Suggestions were already being made by Jones
for improving the area, such as interpretive nature trails, a pontoon boat and
small riverside lab, provision for a full-time caretaker plus
a half-time employee dedicated to the management and direction of Ordway, the
maintenance of a sizable budget, and even the possibility of a Sunday movie
program.[107]
Indeed, a pontoon boat was purchased in 1970[108]
and trails and guides were created in the 1970’s.[109]
However, the budget was taken for granted, and attempts to interest
Macalester students in non-academic activities at Ordway (i.e. movie nights)
have historically failed, as have attempts at creating anything permanent near
River Lake (i.e. riverside labs) due to the impossibility of surveillance of
that area, distant as it is from the main building.
And despite the foresight on the part of Jones that it would take more
than one person’s dedication to effectively run KONHSA, the staffing of Ordway
has not changed fundamentally since the original creation of the Resident
Naturalist position. The irony is
that these suggestions were made over 30 years ago, when morale and money were
high around KONHSA, and only some of them have been truly realized.
Budget
In recent years, Macalester College has been
touted for its hefty endowment. However, Macalester didn’t always have the luxury of
throwing money around and building new buildings right and left.[110]
The KONHSA Field Lab Fund report, from January, 1969, does reflect a bit
of this careless attitude towards money. An
initial investment by Katharine Ordway of $145,768.57 was matched by Mr.
Wallace. After numerous
disbursements, including the purchase of the property itself, construction and
furnishing of the building, a Chevrolet to shuttle students to and from the
station, electric and utilities, and legal fees, there was still over $90,000
left. This total does not even
include the nearly $5,000 donated by Mrs. Louise Savage which had been
designated for the acquisition of adjoining lands, which is mentioned almost as
an afterthought.[111]
This inattentive attitude towards the use of the KONHSA budget would
later be regretted, especially as Macalester ran into tough financial times in
the 1970’s.
Professor Jones was not only busy with the
direction of Ordway, but he was also doing some PR work with donors.
In October of 1969, Professor Jones wrote to Thomas Savage, thanking him
and his mother for their contribution to Ordway in excess of $4,500 contribution
to Ordway. He stressed the
importance of increasing the area’s size, since 3,000 (!) students (including
college and elementary students) had used it in its first year, and that number
was bound to increase (although this
prediction turns out to be sadly mistaken).[112]
Professor Jones also wrote to Katharine Ordway herself in February of
1970 to keep her abreast of Ordway’s usage.
He mentioned that a pontoon houseboat had been purchased for use as a
research vessel at Ordway, and he also hinted that he hoped Katharine Ordway
would be able to come see the area that summer.
Jones also suggested that more land be purchased and a full-time
naturalist be hired. For this
latter position he suggested a chemist (part owner of a chemical
company)/ornithologist who was about to retire; however, he does imply that this
position would be short term and would only last a year or two.[113]
The first part of his prediction was right: the man hired to fill this
position was a chemist by occupation and a bird lover by all other description.
Regarding the length of the appointment, however, Jones’s estimate was
way off, probably to the benefit of KONHSA.[114]
The Christman Era (1970-1982)
The lofty goals set forth during the late
1960’s were written in a context that could not have anticipated the financial
crisis Macalester would encounter in the 1970’s.
Macalester College itself was lucky to survive this monetary drought, say
nothing about the survival of Ordway during this decade.
Ordway’s ability to pull through this period of neglect was very much
due to the dedication and hard work of the Resident Naturalist at Ordway during
these years.
Enter Richard Christman
The period from fall 1970 to the spring of
1986 was very much characterized by the presence of one man: Richard J.
Christman, who was the Resident Naturalist and Caretaker of KONHSA, and
sometimes its only advocate, throughout these 16 years.
Christman had been an employee in the Macalester Chemistry Department
from 1961-1963.[115]
From July 1970 to August of 1984, Christman dutifully wrote detailed
Quarterly Reports discussing things that had been done and things that needed to
be done at KONHSA; these reports also contained carefully recorded visitor
censuses. The story reflected in
these reports becomes something of an allegory for this period itself: these
reports progressively became shorter as he had less to say and began to realize
that no one was really reading them, and eventually terminated in great
frustration.[116]
Which begs the question, who was
responsible for reading these reports? Considering
the souring relationship between Macalester and Ordway and the even more bitter
financial situation of the College during these years, there was very little one
man (however dedicated) could do.
It is important to understand what Christman
is like, as he is a very influential force in the story of Ordway’s history.
Perhaps the best way for one to get a picture of Christman is through a
few short vignettes from others who met him and worked with him; but first, the
facts. Christman got his degree in
Chemistry at the University of Illinois. He
taught in the Chemistry Departments at Macalester and at Hamline University.[117]
In 1976 he described himself as somewhere between 40 and 60 years old,[118]
which makes him between 65 and 85 now. He
still drives the red Volkswagen Rabbit that Shelley Shreffler remembered seeing
at Ordway in the 1980’s. He was
married and had three children. He
ended up working at Ordway largely due to a happy coincidence of timing; he knew
Al Jones from his previous employment at Macalester, and at the time that Jones
was seeking someone to live in the new building and steward the land,
Christman’s youngest daughter was finishing college and he felt free to take
the opportunity. He lived at Ordway
during the week, and if his weekend was free of commitments there he would
return to St. Paul to live with his wife at their home on Wellesley Street until
she passed away in 1975.[119]
These are all the biographical facts Christman would disclose to anyone;
he, like Katharine Ordway, is a rather modest individual.
Modest though he may be, Christman has left
quite an impression on everyone who has met or worked with him.
According to Daniel Hornbach,[120]
Christman was a slightly eccentric man with “long, flowing white hair” who
always wore a Greek fisherman’s cap[121]
and was always telling stories while an instructor was trying to teach a lab.[122]
Mark Davis’s[123]
description made me a bit apprehensive about meeting Christman: “He had some
real strengths. There were some
personality issues that offended some people.
I always got along with him fine, probably partly because I was male…[124]
but he did do some wonderful things for Ordway.[125]”
Shelley Shreffler[126]
gets the prize for best reaction when asked about Richard Christman.
I innocently and offhandedly asked her, “Just out of curiosity, did you
ever meet Richard Christman?” She
replied “OH…GOD….YES! …I
did have the opportunity to meet him. It
was very difficult to meet him.” She
said that several times she looked out the window and noticed a red Volkswagen
Rabbit sitting in the driveway, and an older gentleman standing at the edge of
the drive, apparently birdwatching. She
finally figured that the man must be Christman, and she tried to talk to him
several times, but when she approached he would quickly get in his car and drive
off. “Eventually,” Shreffler
said,
I kind of
snuck up on him—practically ambushed him—and made him sit down and talk to
me. What I found out is that he’s
very much of a very very old school, a traditionalist, who didn’t think that a
woman should be in the position that I was in, and he was quite up front about
letting me know that he didn’t think I had any business being in that job.
And then it made sense why he was avoiding me.
Finally, though, Shelley felt she had won him
over, and “He told me stories about some of the people, the neighbors from
when he was there. Then later I had
the opportunity to meet some of the neighbors, and I’d hear lots of stories
about Christman. He has a very
interesting place.[127],[128]”
An
article in the Mendota Heights Sun entitled “Hemit [sic] guards a hideaway
that’s an Inver Grove Trail nature study,” introduces Christman candidly and
is graced by pictures of him holding a chickadee and sitting on “his favorite
rock.[129]”
The word “hemit” in the headline is not a typo.
McKee introduces Christman, by his own description, as
being
somewhere, chronologically, between the ages of 40 and 60, living by the
philosophies of Thoreau and, because of his jocular nature about women’s lib,
a hemit instead of a ‘hermit.’ Seeming
to have an opinion on every subject imaginable and refusing to reveal anything
about himself,[130]
he looks very much the hermit type with his long white hair and blue jeans.[131]
In
describing what Christman did at Ordway, McKee wrote “he might be…sitting on
his favorite rock taking in the spectacular view, feeding the birds, watching
the white-legged mice that nest in the bird houses…or taking a walk.
He puts in 12 to 15 hours a day, he said, but which 12 to 15 remains his
secret.[132]”
Certainly Christman was working overtime at Ordway, and for less
appreciation than he probably deserved. As
he said, everyone wanted his job, but no one wanted his salary.[133]
The
“Ordway Bulletins”
During
his tenure at Ordway, Christman wrote at least 129 “Ordway Bulletins,” all
numbered and dated from 1972 to 1985.[134]
These were page-long anecdotes, scientifically related vignettes, or just
prosaic descriptions of the land or the changing seasons at Ordway.
Many people have commented on these and their enjoyment in reading them,
even now. There has been talk of
publishing a compilation of them (as well there should be). Christman said he’d often write these at night, inspired by
something he had seen or experienced at Ordway, and was very modest about them.
When I mentioned how poetic they were, however, he reminded me of the
dangers of anthropomorphizing, saying “I tried to stay away from that sort of
thing [anthropomorphism] in them [the bulletins],”
and giving me examples: “when you see a hawk, you think ‘he,’
right? And when you see an egret,
you think ‘she,’ because it’s graceful and delicate—but actually
they’re very hardy birds.[135]”
At
least one of his Bulletins, entitled “A Death at Ordway,” was published in
the Macalester Today magazine. A
bit of a departure from the institutional journalism one might be accustomed to,
he recounts the story of the life and tragic death of “the lone Box Elder tree
[that] stood in the grassland just 125 meters east of the field lab building.”
This is not in the least written with tongue-in-cheek; it is obvious that
Christman sincerely felt a loss when this tree blew down and “the remains of
this important part of the landscape returned to the earth by the processes
which had begun many years before.[136]”
President Davis[137]
sent a memo to Christman in 1977, commending him on his Ordway Bulletin entitled
“Snowbound at Ordway,” and saying that it “immediately conjured up for me
some of the great lines from John Greenleaf Whittier’s epic poem,
‘Snowbound: A Winter Idyll.’[138]”
For all of Christman’s modesty, it appears that I’m not the only one
who finds his bulletins decidedly poetic.[139]
Visions and Missions for Ordway
Christman
was effectively the Resident Naturalist, the Caretaker, and the Director.
In practical terms, he may well have been the only person associated with
Macalester College who took responsibility for Ordway during this period.[140]
Accordingly, he was the only person with much of a vision for the place.
In
November of 1973, someone, presumably Christman,[141]
gave a presentation to a Teacher’s Workshop entitled “Some Comments on
Nature Establishments.” This sets
out something of an informal mission statement for KONHSA and all similar nature
establishments, and also inflates the size of Ordway to “a little over 280
acres,” which seemed to be a common and convenient number to “round up”
to. Christman began by attempting
to define Ordway:
What
is a ‘natural history study area’???By
way of definition, natural history is (or used to be) applied to zoology,
botany, mineralogy and similar sciences; however, it is now commonly restricted
to a more or less unsystematic study of these subjects…In many ways this is a
very descriptive title for us although it is to be hoped that we are not
completely UN-systematic about the studies performed at our study area.
Our actual purpose is to provide facilities as an outdoor laboratory for
our Biology Department; at the same time there are other academic disciplines
which can and do make use of the facility: Geography; Geology; etc. We also encourage, incidentally, our sister colleges to share
in the use of our facilities. Our
own college participates both as class units and as individual independent
studies, a growingly [sic] popular endeavor at Macalester.[142]
This
is an excellent summary of how Ordway was actually used during the period
Christman was there, although he does neglect to mention the (quite prolific)
use by community groups and pre-college students. He then goes on to contrast the stated purpose of a
“natural history study area” with that of a “nature center,” saying “a
nature center has both instruction and entertainment as its raisons d’être.
This contrasts sharply with a natural history study area, whose
principal—perhaps only—purpose is a scientific approach to an understanding
of nature in its various attitudes.[143]”
Claude
Welch, Biology Department Chair from 1969-1978,[144]
felt that Ordway was best used to “study the interrelatedness of living things
and how this can be thrown off by man’s encroachment on the environment.[145]”
This is a particularly appropriate goal for a nature center like Ordway,
which is not entirely pristine and is becoming increasingly swallowed up by the
Twin Cities.[146]
Welch and Christman also agreed that Ordway should not be entirely
public, or turned into anything park-like; however, “thay [sic] would like to
see the site used more often by more people as a place to come for environmental
education and, perhaps, just to get away from it all.[147]”
Christman
definitely had his opinions about how the area should be run, and since he was
the Ordway Committee and the Caretaker and the Resident Naturalist all wrapped
into one, he was able to implement his own ideas. The aforementioned article in the Mendota Heights Sun reads:
“There is a list of 13 rules and regulations regarding the grounds, with most
pointing out the fact that every visitor and project must have the approval of
Christman.” Earlier in the
article, he is quoted as saying “If you’ve got a goddamn shotgun or a
goddamn snowmobile, you can’t come in.[148]”
These harsh words appear next to a photo of Christman looking kindly upon
a chickadee resting in his cupped hands, a bird that he first trapped and banded
in 1973 and which returned several times to visit him.[149]
Others
in the 1970’s felt that Ordway was not very useful for much except for
education. According to Eddie Hill,
he felt that
The
original intent was as a study area. The
original intent was to expose students to ecological principles, like, ‘ok,
this is a prairie, this is a woodland, this is a river, this is what happens in
these particular areas, this is how they look, this is the flora and the fauna
that is associated with them in this particular setting.’
And that’s all it was ever intended—that’s all it could ever do.[150]
Already,
it seems, Macalester was forgetting about the proposals of the 1960’s, which
incorporated multiple uses into the purpose of a field station, and seemed
limitless in scope.
Curriculum Changes
In the fall of 1970, a new course was added to
the Macalester curriculum: Environmental Science 15, Interdisciplinary Course,
which was also listed under Biology, Geology, and Geography.
The new Environmental Science program was coordinated by Mr. Webers and
Mr. Lanegran, and the course’s only prerequisite was one course in the
sciences. The class was described
as “a multi-disciplined introduction to the scientific aspects of the
‘physical’ environment. The
course will stress biological, geographical, and geological facets of the
environment with contributions from the disciplines of chemistry, physics and
economics.[151]”
Obviously, this was quite a bit to cram into a single class, but
certainly a good foundation from which to build an academic program.
Two years later, beginning in the 1972-1973
academic year, students could earn a Major Concentration in Environmental
Studies. Macalester College was one
of the first colleges in the Midwest to offer such a program, so it was
definitely a progressive and constantly changing field at the time.
In the 1972-73 Catalog, the concentration is described as an
interdepartmental
major that focuses on man’s relationship to his environment…[it is] intended
to improve students’ understanding of mankind’s role in the physical and
biological world, and is established in the belief that there is a role in
society for persons broadly trained in matters pertaining to the environment.[152]
This revised program had a stronger mission;
however, instead of listing any classes it simply refers interested students to
one of three professors[153]
for advising.
By the next year, the Environmental Studies
program was entirely the business of David Southwick, a Geology professor who
had previously been involved in the Environmental Studies program, and who
served as coordinator until 1978.[154]
The program description covered more than a page in the course catalog
and set out a specific plan for completion of the major concentration in this
field, which consisted of fourteen courses from Astronomy to Anthropology, plus
a list of recommended courses and two of Environmental Studies’ very own
classes, an introduction and a senior seminar.[155]
In 1976, the introductory course had
disappeared and was replaced by a junior year internship requirement.
The required courses were better articulated, again, ranging throughout
all sorts of departments. It is
apparent that Environmental Studies was truly an interdisciplinary major.
In 1978, Professor J.A. Jones (former Director of Ordway) took over the
Environmental Studies program and it became a full-blown major, instead of being
listed in the back of the catalog with other interdisciplinary “programs.[156]”
As Macalester fell deeper into the financial
problems of the 1970’s, the crisis was reflected in the course catalog of
1974-1975 in several ways. The
Biology Department, along with others, shrunk in number of faculty and classes
offered. In the directory of the
administration, many positions were listed as “to be designated,” instead of
having a name, including the Director of Development, the Associate Director of
Admissions, and the Director of Financial Aid.[157]
Publicity in the 70’s
On 24 January 1972, an editorial appeared in
the Mac Weekly, authored by Christman, alerting students of Ordway’s
existence.[158]
An article about Ordway appeared in the Macalester College Bulletin in
March. This article invites alums
to visit the area as well as disclosing that Christman’s salary was being
supported by a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Allan Holbert (Mrs. Holbert, née Jill
Irvine, is a niece of Katharine Ordway). The
Holberts made the gift “in recognition of the significant contribution to
solving environmental problems” that KONHSA was making and to “assure its
continued impact upon the field of ecology and conservation.[159]”
It is surprising that someone made a donation based on this premise, when
the area was still young and had never been touted with having an “impact”
on conservation.
In March 1971, someone, again presumably
Christman, gave a Seminar Presentation with slides in which he described the
mammal, invertebrate, and plant studies which were happening at KONHSA.
He suggested increased use by classes for specimen gathering, as well as
linking up with other nature centers,[160] another suggestion that
appears to have been ignored.
A March 1972 article in the Macalester College
Bulletin definitely missed scooping the following story, “Ordway Nature Study
Open,” by several years.[161]
A few articles appeared in the Macalester Today during these years,
including the obituary for the Box Elder tree.[162]
Another article, entitled “Nature Center Wet and Colorful” was
written shortly after the college founded its Environmental Studies Program, and
touts some of the new inclusions of non-Biology uses:
under the
guidance of David Lanegran…[Geography students can study] urban vegetation
(plants brought to the cities by settlers)…or to learn under the guidance of
David Southwick [Geology] how glacial deposits control the soil and development
of vegetation on this particular site.[163]
The article invites all members of the
Macalester community to visit Ordway via the “Blue Goose” shuttle bus[164]
that made trips to Ordway twice a week.[165]
Research Initiatives at Ordway During the
1970’s
Ordway has never been the site of a great deal
of research, despite the fact that it was originally chosen to suit this
purpose. In fact, there have been
those who have said that Ordway is not a particularly good place for research.
Since it is a “natural history study area,” as defined by Christman,[166]
that implies that research can be rather informal and performed at any scale.
Because of the relatively small size of the area and the communities
within it (i.e. large-scale prairie experiments are simply not possible[167]),
research has been somewhat limited to projects of a smaller scale.
Others contend that the research possibilities are limited only by
one’s imagination.
The vast majority of the research that remains
from these years was performed by Christman himself, the vocational
ornithologist, as part of his long-term bird banding study.
He kept incredibly accurate records[168]
and indeed had many return avian visitors, such as the chickadee he befriended.[169]
Jack Shields, a Biology professor, produced several long and
comprehensive reports during July of 1972: research on the linear growth rate in
woody plants and a distribution report on the flora of KONHSA; he also compiled
a master herbarium for Ordway.[170]
Despite the majority of anecdotal reports
about Ordway, there were in fact a great many independent research projects
being carried out at Ordway during this time, including projects by
undergraduate and graduate students from other institutions.[171]
Christman’s quarterly reports were replete with updates about who was
doing what sort of research, but it is unclear if anyone was reading these
reports to get an idea of Ordway’s research potential.
One student, named Paul, did a January term project there that seems
among the harder winter interim projects to take on: he tried to dig a well.
According to Christman, Paul was quite a character himself.
He often wore a muslin Slavic-style homemade shirt and would sing old
riverboat songs while he worked. Evidently, Paul dug down about twelve or
fourteen feet and hit moist ground, but never was quite able to get a bucket of
water out.[172]
Contrary to some current assertions about
Ordway, there was plenty of serious research, involving larger universities and
collaborations, going on during this period.
For example, a doctoral candidate at the University of Minnesota carried
out an invertebrate-trapping study there, a behavioral study funded by the NSF
was performed by a professor from St. Catherine’s and a Macalester student,
and another U of M graduate student was studying sow bugs at Ordway for years.[173]
Eddie Hill did compile a list of Ordway-based research papers that had
been filed in the Biology Department, which he sent to Thomas Savage.[174]
These projects include flora surveys, aquatic investigations in River
Lake, and research on the relationships between snowmobile use and small mammal
mortality.[175]
While Ordway was by no means teeming with researchers, there seemed to be
little question that it was an appropriate and accessible place for a variety of
projects.
Opportunities to Expand KONHSA (or: How to
Anger your Benefactors)
John Dozier wrote to Katharine Ordway on 18
October 1972 to let her know that “we have acquired an additional piece of
land contiguous” to Ordway. This
purchase consisted of
…approximately
two acres of land[176]
at the front of the property, which expands the frontage on County Road #77 from
a single point on the road where the driveway comes into the area to 425.9 feet.
This will allow us to have a more gracious and effective entryway to the
area.
He also mentions that
we hope one of
these days to be able to report to you the acquisition of an even larger piece
of land in this area. You will
recall that part of our problem here is that the landowner here is tied up in a
complicated estate settlement and it will be months, I am sure, before we can
get final approval for any purchase. We
are, however, still optimistic and are working.[177]
Dozier’s take seems to be opposed to
Robinson and others who maintained that there was no land available for
purchase. A letter from President
Robinson to Katharine Ordway on 16 November 1972 thanked her for her gift that
helped to purchase “better frontage area” at Ordway and said that the
remainder of her gift was being retained “awaiting opportunities to make
additional purchases of land…but it appears that it will be sometime [sic]
before any of the neighbors will be willing to relinquish additional acreage.[178]”
The same President James Robinson who had
announced the triumphant end to the Challenge Campaign was suddenly faced with
financial difficulties later in the 1970’s.
DeWitt Wallace withdrew his support, over thirty faculty were laid
off—these were hard times indeed for Macalester College.[179]
However, there had been money given to Macalester and specifically
earmarked for increasing the acreage of Ordway.
Throughout the 1970’s, there were at least two opportunities to
purchase a substantial parcels of adjoining land which were conspicuously
missed, leaving some confused and others angry.
On 6 December 1972, per instructions of Ray
Carter, Ordway’s attorney, 125 shares of Katharine Ordway’s 3M stock had
been sold, at a value of $82.75 per share: a total of $10,343.75,[180]
the proceeds of which were donated to Macalester. The next day, President Robinson wrote to “Messrs.”
DeWitt Wallace and A.L. Cole regarding Katharine Ordway’s support of KONHSA.
It seems that the previous December, Wallace, Cole and Robinson had been
to visit Katharine Ordway, which had earned Macalester $25,000.
He also notified them of the recent $10,000 gift (evidently, he rounded
down this time) and suggested that they “apprize her of your appreciation of
her gift on the basis of this ‘confidential’ communication.[181]”
A 17 December letter from President Robinson
to Ordway opens with the somewhat tactless paragraph: “In each of the last two
Decembers, you have made a generous gift to Macalester College in [sic] behalf
of the Ordway Natural History Study Area. It
is my hope that you might do so again this year.”
After that, he goes on to boast about the newly created Environmental
Studies academic program and the way Macalester has responded to the energy
crisis, having “reduced electrical and fuel consumption nearly 20% without
interfering with instruction.” He
closes: “You will find few colleges as ecological and conservative minded as
this one. We would be grateful, therefore, for a 1973 gift of $25,000
to assist us in our program to educate students in preservation and protection
of natural resources.[182],[183]”
Macalester shouldn’t have been surprised to receive a phone call from
Katharine Ordway in response to the letter from Robinson.
During the call, she “expressed the hope that the money might be used
for additional acquisitions of property, but in the event that none was
available, stated that the money could be used for such purposes as the
President felt appropriate,[184]”
and that “she was particularly interested in acquiring prairie lands at the
current time.” Katharine
mentioned that she appreciated the two reports which had been sent to her (by
Christman, undoubtedly) regarding work done at KONHSA.
She “expected to be able to make further contributions to the Center
next year, but that she was committed to prairie acquisitions this year.[185]”
A few years later, some fiery correspondence
was exchanged between our Miss Ordway and Thomas Savage.
First, on 17 June 1974, Savage wrote that his mother had bequeathed
$10,000 to Mac upon her death in 1968 because her father was a “trustee in the
era of Dr. Wallace.” He says that Macalester had agreed to match funds with Savage
in order to enlarge KONHSA. Since
that promise had been made, Macalester had missed opportunities to purchase
parcels near the Ordway land, including 100 acres to the north, which were later
saddled with an airstrip and a small factory (where they manufacture pontoon
boats[186]).
“There is apparently a complete lack of interest on the part of the
college administration in adding to the natural history area,” Savage
proclaimed; using words like “deplorable” elsewhere in the letter, he also
implied that Christman himself was not happy with how KONHSA was being managed.
Savage also suggested that he and Ordway meet with “key members of the
Macalester faculty and administration.[187]”
Katharine Ordway wrote him back in a week, agreeing that it was
“deplorable,” and reiterating that she had given $10,241 on 6 December 1972
and another $5,000 on 5 April 1974, but had never been told what these sums had
been used for. She told Savage that
she had written to President Robinson to express her concern, but that she was
leaving the country until mid-July and would be unable to come to St. Paul
anytime in the near future.[188]
On 18 Nov 76, Eddie Hill sent a memo to
Alexander (Sandy) Hill, VP of Development, notifying him of the sale of the
122-acre Leitch estate, which bordered the south side of the Ordway property.
He even attached a sheet with several different options for purchasing
parts or all of the land.[189]
Sandy Hill replied eleven days later with the disheartening news that
Our relations
with Katherine Ordway (the most likely donor for additional purchases) have not
been that good, because of information she has received about under use [sic] of
the area by Macalester. What we
really need from Miss Ordway is an endowment so that we could properly use the
area; i.e., money to provide transportation, etc.[190]
Looking back on those days, perhaps buying
land was a bit much to expect from a College in financial duress; it seems
that at one time Macalester was under pressure to sell
Ordway. According to Eddie Hill,
“there was never really a lot of heavy pressure to get that land [the Leitch
estate], to expand the area, as far as I was ever able to tell.
There was some pressure to sell it…to a developer, but that never came
about either.[191]”
According to Alexander Hill, the Leitch estate was passed up for
financial reasons rather than due to a bad relationship with Katharine Ordway;
in fact, during the 1970’s, many of the large family contributors withdrew
support from Macalester pending its survival as an institution.[192]
Still, we must believe that Katharine Ordway was rather unhappy about the
dismissive attitude with which Macalester treated her.[193]
One only has to compare the air photos included in Figures 3-5 to see
that both the parcels to the north and south of Ordway have since been quite
developed.
Richard Christman commented on Macalester’s
thinly veiled exploitative attitude towards donors during the 1970’s and
recalled several anecdotes. He
remembered Thomas Savage visiting Ordway with a representative of the Macalester
administration. After a short walk,
they were sitting inside and Christman listened to the Macalester representative
hinting that Ordway could use more donations.
As we know, Mr. Savage was not terribly happy with the way his previous
donations had or had not been used, and according to Christman he replied,
“All I hear is ‘we need more money, we need more money.’
I still want to find out what happened to the other money!”
In another instance, Mrs. John Ordway was
visiting, and after a brief trot outside (she was getting older and couldn’t
walk much) Christman, Ordway and other Macalester administrative folks
reconvened inside. Christman
remembers Mrs. Ordway taking out a cigarette and lighting up, and “the other
people were aghast. I said ‘I’d
like a smoke Ms. Ordway!’” Christman
always did seem to enjoy taking the mischievous route.
A final recollection seems particularly devious—Christman recalled
members of the faculty and administration rolling out a genealogical chart of
the Ordway family which encompassed about four generations. He said that while it wasn’t blatantly stated, the intent
was rather clear: oh, this girl is about two now, but when she’s in her
twenties maybe we can get some money from her.[194]
Unfortunately, while part of this attitude was probably a symptom of the
desperate financial situation, it can’t have done anything good in the way of
donor relations.
Did Katharine Ordway Ever See Her Namesake?
Already
in 1967, in the initial series of thank-you letters, President Rice had
expressed an interest in hosting Katharine Ordway at the area to show her around
the field station as well as the main campus. Professor Jones, in a letter to Katharine Ordway on 18
February 1970, mentioned that she ought to come visit that summer.
A letter from President Robinson to Katharine Ordway mentioned that Mrs.
John Ordway, Sr. had recently visited Ordway and was given a tour; “She seemed
to enjoy herself immensely, and undoubtedly has seen you in the meantime,[195]”
hinting that perhaps Katharine herself ought to visit.
Katharine Ordway also expressed interest in visiting, in a 4 March 1974
letter: “I hope to be in Minneapolis in the early spring and will surely go
out to the Ordway Preserve. I have enjoyed so much the letters that Dr.
Christian [sic] has sent out to those interested.”
A handwritten note on the margin brackets this paragraph and says “does
not occur;” which presumably refers to Katharine Ordway’s proposed visit.[196]
Further
correspondence was exchanged between Christman and Macalester later in the month
regarding the possibility of Katharine Ordway dropping by in “early spring,”
which Christman says is
…indefinite—and
who could predict it in Minnesota? –but perhaps that lady is inclined to
translate seasons into terms of those existing in her current habitat, viz.
Connecticut.[197]
I’m just suggesting that some comment of this would be worth while now
rather than risk her visiting here when things are too inclement to make a
reasonable visit out of it.[198]
Evidently
this was promising, however, and to the end of receiving Katharine Ordway at the
area named after her, there were preparations made such as fixing the lab
floors, tidying up, and putting in trail marker posts.