An Introduction, Part One

In the immortal words of John Denver,

“It's been a good life all in all / It's really fine / To have a chance to hang around”
from Poems, Prayers and Promises

My mother and I ‘planting’ worms after a fishing trip.

Mine has been a good life — interesting, varied, and full of wonder — a life that would take me from shy child to crocodile and cobra handler to field researcher and museum collection manager. It has allowed me to benefit from wonderful mentors, work with personal idols, forge incredible friendships, and have the most rewarding job possible. I was lucky enough from an early age to know the path my life would take. One day, at age three, I was happily pointing at something in my backyard and then, on my outstretched finger, alighted a butterfly. I have no idea what the species is, but it seemed to sit there for 30 minutes. It was probably more like three seconds. Either way, my future path was chosen in that instant. Like most children who grew up in the 1970s, I spent a great deal of time in nature, but after that event, nature became my true passion. I also had an intrinsic love of the natural world and much empathy for it. After family fishing trips, I would liberate the worms by ‘planting’ them in the backyard — just a tiny sample of my behavior. I was a painfully shy child, never eager to ask for anything or even let it be known I was around.

However, I was an astute observer, a skill that spilled over into activities beyond social situations. I was always on the hunt for things, bugs, birds, and shells, finding these in woods, fields, and creeks — all the perks of growing up in rural areas. At age 10, I found my first snake, and this event truly solidified my future endeavors. The snake was just a diminutive southern ringneck found under a flower pot in my grandmother’s backyard. It fascinated me, and I kept it in a jar for observation for a few days. The following day, I stumbled across a legless lizard on a sidewalk driven above-ground by a rainstorm. These two encounters sealed my fate of a life with reptiles.

Dr. Layne, my mother, and me examining the mole king snake.

By age 12, I was a snake hunter extraordinaire. My hours after school and on weekends consisted of foot and bicycle patrols of my Okeechobee, Florida neighborhood searching for slithering things. One day, a block and a half from home, I caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye — a two-foot snake crawling through a shallow ditch. I jumped off my bike and quickly corralled the specimen with my snake-catching tool, a potato rake. After deducing it was a harmless species, I picked it up and placed it into a pillowcase to investigate at home. I pulled out my various field guides at home to identify the snake. Strangely enough, the only species it appeared to be, a mole king snake, was not supposed to be found in my area. I told my mother we must get confirmation, and she recommended I contact the local Fish and Game Commission office. Wanting me to get beyond my shyness, she made me make the call. Later that week, we met up with a Florida Fish and Game employee who stated that the snake looked like a mole king snake to him but that we should get an expert's opinion. He connected us with Dr. James N. Layne of the Archbold Biological Station in Venus, Florida. Again, my mother made me make the call, and the following week, we visited him in his lab. Dr. Layne said later in a newspaper article that he was very skeptical of the species identification but since a young boy took this much interest he thought it best to meet.

Dr. Layne points out characteristics of the species, to my mother and me.

Once inside his lab door, and from 15 feet away, he took one look at the snake inside the small cage I was carrying and uttered the words, “I’ll be damned!” He immediately knew the identification was correct and was quite excited to examine it. Dr. Layne then took measurements of length and weight, counted scales, and took photos. Next, he gave my mother and me a tour of the facility. The lifeless bodies of snakes, frogs, lizards, and other creatures floating in jars of alcohol within the specimen room entranced and fascinated me. He strolled us through the research library and introduced us to librarian, Fred E. Lohrer, who became a great source of information and guidance during future visits. Afterwards, we met up with a few other biologists in the cafeteria for lunch, which consisted of everyone but my mother discussing bear scat, indigo snakes, tree frogs, and various research projects. They asked me copious questions, for which answers slowly and softly crept out of my mouth. The Latin species names of every animal and plant we discussed were infused into the conversation. My mother later told me that she just sat back smiling and thought, “This is what my son would do for the rest of his life.”

To be continued…