BURNED TO BE WILD: SCIENCE, SOCIETY, AND ECOLOGICAL CONSERVATION IN THE SOUTHERN LONGLEAF PINE by ALBERT GLOVER WAY (Under the Direction of Paul S. Sutter) ABSTRACT This dissertation explores the development of ecological conservation and science in the southern coastal plain’s dominant ecosystem – the longleaf pine-grassland forest. It examines how the impetus for conservation changed over the long twentieth-century from concerns over bodily health, landscape aesthetics, and recreation, into concerns for ecological integrity and landscape diversity, and argues that the biocentric turn in twentieth-century science and society was rooted in the very processes of production that it sought to moderate. To unearth this story, it focuses on the region surrounding Thomasville, Georgia and Tallahassee, Florida, known as the Red Hills, where wealthy northerners came after the Civil War and Reconstruction in search of health, and remained to convert failing farms and plantations into winter retreats and hunting preserves. In the years covered here, roughly 1880-1960, this land of wealth and poverty was a working landscape that produced a variety of goods and supported a large number of people; yet, at the same time it was a conservation landscape and laboratory where a great deal of scientific knowledge about the longleaf pine-grassland environment came to light. The central figure in this dissertation is Herbert L. Stoddard, an ornithologist, wildlife biologist, and ecological forester who came to the Red Hills in 1924 as an agent of the U.S. Bureau of the Biological Survey to examine the life history and preferred habitat of the bobwhite quail. Stoddard’s research on fire ecology, predator-prey relations, wildlife management in agricultural systems, and forestry all helped to initiate a critical national shift toward a more ecologically-based vision for land management. Charged by seasonal landowners to maintain what they considered a pre- industrial landscape aesthetic, Stoddard adapted the land use patterns and local knowledge of black and white tenant farmers to craft land management strategies that foreshadowed what we call today conservation biology. INDEX WORDS: American South, New South, Conservation, Longleaf Pine, Fire Ecology, Sharecropping, Tenantry, Bobwhite Quail, Hunting, Georgia, Florida, Bureau of the Biological Survey, Herbert Stoddard, Aldo Leopold, Agriculture, Forestry, Wildlife Management BURNED TO BE WILD: SCIENCE, SOCIETY, AND ECOLOGICAL CONSERVATION IN THE SOUTHERN LONGLEAF PINE by ALBERT GLOVER WAY B.A., Mercer University, 1995 M.A., University of Mississippi, 1999 A Dissertation Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of The University of Georgia in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY ATHENS, GEORGIA 2008 © 2008 Albert G. Way All Rights Reserved BURNED TO BE WILD: SCIENCE, SOCIETY, AND ECOLOGICAL CONSERVATION IN THE SOUTHERN LONGLEAF PINE by ALBERT GLOVER WAY Major Professor: Paul S. Sutter Committee: James C. Cobb John C. Inscoe Allan Kulikoff Shane Hamilton Electronic Version Approved: Maureen Grasso Dean of the Graduate School The University of Georgia May 2008 iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Researching and writing this dissertation was often a solitary act, but I never felt alone. Someone was always hovering around, if not my historical characters, then one of many friends and colleagues who commented and collaborated on the work, or simply offered an encouraging word of support. There are too many to thank properly, but I’ll make a stab at it. I will start by thanking the best bunch of committee members I could ever dream up. James Cobb is a funny man, and pretty darn smart to boot. He gave me early encouragement when I arrived in Athens, and has continued to act as counselor when I sit down uninvited to grumble about the dissertating and job-hunting process. John Inscoe is not only a thoughtful scholar, always willing to hear out and critique new ideas, but he is also a thoughtful person. I was terrified of Allan Kulikoff when I first met him—anyone who could write a book like Tobacco and Slaves would surely demand an unattainable level of scholarship from graduate students, I thought. Indeed, he is demanding, but he is also a sympathetic scholar who appreciates all kinds of perspectives on history. He has been an important part of my graduate experience. Shane Hamilton’s arrival in Athens was also significant. He took an interest in my work from day one, and continues to be a wellspring of knowledge about the history of agriculture, technology, and the environment. Paul Sutter gets his own paragraph. I came to UGA with little knowledge of Paul or his work. I only knew that he was the new environmental historian and that I would work with him in some capacity. We met for a beer one evening in early 2002, and I walked away a little while later completely committed—it was the best professional decision I have ever made. His v scholarship is clear and penetrating, his teaching is powerful, and his advice is always spot-on. Most of all, his friendship is among the most meaningful I’ve had. Paul’s example will always serve as a model for both my professional and personal life. The basement of LeConte Hall shelters a remarkable group of graduate students. I will surely leave out a few, but Bruce Stewart, Robby Luckett, John Hayes, Ichiro Miyata, Amy Crowson, Ed Hatfield, Chris Huff, Steve Nash, Jason Manthorne, and Christopher Lawton are fine colleagues and friends. Over the last few years, UGA has developed an expanding gang of graduate students interested in environmental history, and I want to especially thank Chris Manganiello, Hayden Smith, Levi Van Sant, and Lesley-Anne Reed for much serious conversation about this project and the field in general. Though Jim Giesen now roams different halls, I would be remiss not to include him as well—thanks, Jim. A core group of friends at the University of Mississippi’s Center for the Study of Southern Culture started me down this path. Robbie Etheridge, Ted Ownby, and Charles Wilson worked with what they had to somehow shape me into a budding historian. I will always be grateful to them. Since graduating from Ole Miss, I have confirmed my suspicions that Southern Studies graduate students are among the nuttiest bunch of folks I’ve ever had the good fortune of knowing. Sarah Torian, Bland Whitley, Amy Wood, Susan Glisson, Molly McGehee, Ann Evans, John Kane, and John T. Edge helped me to find the hidden spaces of the South, and made me believe in the concept of life as art. And speaking of life as art, Maury Gortemiller has been my closest companion from Oxford to Athens, and I’m not keen on the thought of living in separate locations next year. I hope he’ll be okay. The seed for this project was planted by my friends at the Joseph W. Jones Ecological Research Center at Ichauway, and they offered critical financial support throughout. Kevin vi McIntyre was my guide to all things southwest Georgia. He set me up for a six month residency at Ichauway and gave first-rate advice at key moments during the project. Lindsay Boring offered unwavering support from beginning to end, and Steve Jack, Kay Kirkman, Bob Mitchell, Jimmy Atkinson, and Mark Melvin were patient with my lay questions about science and land management in the longleaf pine region. One of the great things about environmental history is getting out into the field and learning about particular landscapes, and the staff, graduate students, and residents of Ichauway were exceptional guides through the region. I am grateful to them all. Getting to know Leon and Julie Neel has been among my finest personal and professional experiences. They have welcomed me into their home, fed me, and given me a place to lay my head; they have taken me to see some of the finest woodlands in the world; and they have opened up to share their long and fascinating life with me. My visits with them have shaped this dissertation in ways I don’t even know. As fun as environmental history is in the field, the archive is still our place of business. First, I thank those at Tall Timbers Research Station who gave me access to their remarkable manuscript collection. Not only is their archive an important resource for twentieth-century environmental history, their archivist, Juanita Whiddon, made using it a pleasure. She opened up the doors to the place, and was always available to answer questions and direct me to where I needed to be. Also, Lane Green and Ron Masters took an interest in the project and gave encouragement when called upon. I simply could not have written this dissertation without the aid of Tall Timbers. I would also like to thank Cheryl Oakes, Steven Anderson, and Jamie Lewis at the Forest History Society, Ann Harrison at the Thomas County Historical Society, Bernie Schermetzler at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, Liz Cox at Ichauway, Armand Esai at the vii Field Museum in Chicago, and Judith Turner at the Milwaukee Public Museum. Also, I thank Curt Meine for fielding many questions about Aldo Leopold, his papers, and the field of conservation biology. I would also like to thank a group of life-long friends who have always kept me rooted in a place even when I’m away. Brackston Smith, Wade Krueger and Heather Maldonado, Eric and Trisha Sigmon, Richard and Ashley Conner, David and Tina Conner, Ken and Janet Hardy, Craig and Raina Smith, Joe and Teri Sapp, Wade and Elizabeth Hardy, Brad and Danetta Hardy, Brent and Brandy Lowe, Jason and Kibbee Horne and many others continue to pull me back home and treat me as if I never left.