Legacy of Helen Bates

There is no better way to introduce myself than to tell the story of how Helen Bates has been a role model and mentor for me since I was a young man. It was thirty years ago this summer that I was first drawn "into the field" by the small feathered creatures we know as songbirds. It was not long before the column by the "bird lady" in the Sunday Republican was a must read. Later that winter I appeared in a Helen Bates piece as "a young man in Northampton" who had found a Phoebe wintering in a gravel pit. By the next September I had moved back to my home town of Southwick and phone conversations with Helen became regular.

Birding is a solitary passion for quite a number of people, but Helen is not one of them. She drew me into a community of people who shared an interest that for some was casual and others consuming. Helen was in charge of Field Trips and Records for the Allen Bird Club of Springfield and led many of the field trips herself, but was always looking for "new blood" for the club. She took this intense, bearded, six-footer under her wing and prepared me to fledge into birding maturity. She began sharing her tasks with me and for ten years we worked together, she recorded sightings and I organized field trips. During much of that time she was also the "Western Voice of Audubon" until she also passed that task to me. Our interests were always the same, although our approach occasionally differed.

Of course her prize pupil learned a lot from her in the field. Helen may have looked like a sweet gentle bird watcher, but she was a tough and determined trooper who did not flinch from rain, snow, and a myriad of other obstacles. She wanted to "find the birds," and she was daunted only by her natural sense of courtesy and concern for both the birds and for other people.

But Helen was more than a teacher and leader. She served as an inspiration for a whole generation of those who admire the "birds of the air." Inspire is the right word, because it literally means "giving the breath of life," which is what we receive when we encounter a bird, whether it is a rare one found afield, or a common yard bird glimpsed through the kitchen window. There is a jolt of joy in our minds as we see the color, hear the song, or marvel at the energy of birds. This is the final thing Helen and I share, a sense that the natural world is a spiritual creation given to us to enjoy, care for, and recreate.

The recreation is the transforming of the experience of nature into words. Perhaps it is only the few words of excitement we say to a companion at the moment. More profoundly it is when we share the story with those who have missed the moment, or when we express concern if that experience is threatened, or even as the feeling of happiness is expressed in an unrelated act or word of kindness. Then the wonder and the essential value of wild nature is expanded to reach to the farthest corners of everyday living. Such riches overflow from Helen's voice and pen, and I can only hope to pass on as much as I have received from her.

Recently I was on Mt. Tekoa with friends, and we were enjoying the spectacle of migrating hawks. There were not many, so our greatest thrill was a Red-tailed Hawk, which was simply soaring around, waiting for colder weather to start its migration. For some reason it took an interest in us and swung past over our rocky lookout only thirty feet over our heads. Then it circled back for a second and even a third pass. It was a pale individual, but with heavy, darks streaks on the middle of its underbelly, striking in its beauty. The shadow of its silent passage fell on us and bound our little group together in a moment of harmony that lasted through the long, sultry afternoon. Three times was a charm. For me and many others, Helen Bates will always be a charm.