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Volume 8 Issue 1 (Fall 2014)
“Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Environmental Focus Group
This October marks the seventh anniversary of the Environmental Focus Group. Since
2007 we have worked to fulfill our mission of promoting and supporting activities,
experiences, and structures that encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a
stronger sense of place for Lock Haven University and central Pennsylvania. It seems
like a good time to reflect on what we’ve accomplished.
We’ve developed two new degrees: a minor in Environmental Studies that has
enrolled 93 and graduated 32 students since 2010; and the new Associates in
Sustainability Studies.
We’ve published 31 issues of The Hemlock, which have contained articles written
by over 140 different authors, including students, faculty, staff, administrators,
and members of the community.
We restored the LHU Nature Trail, rededicating it on Earth Day, 2014.
We helped develop the LHU Environmental Club, which has adopted and
cleaned Glen Road.
We’ve sponsored such events as environmental films, panel discussions, guest
speakers, the PA Culture Festival, Earth Day Events, and tree plantings on
campus.
From the original five members who met in October 2007, the EFG has expanded to
include 40 members (22 faculty from 18 different disciplines; 8 staff members; 4
students; 5 administrators; and 1 community member). If you’re interested in being
part of the EFG as we move forward, contact Bob Myers.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 2
A Tribute to Lillian E. Russell (1878-1958)
~Joby Topper (LHU Library Director)
In my essay about Professor Levi Ulmer in the Fall 2013 issue of The Hemlock, I
mentioned that Ulmer founded the Naturalist Club, the ancestor of today’s
Environmental Club, and served as the club’s first faculty
advisor. I also mentioned the construction of the Naturalist
Club Cabin and its official opening on April 25, 1941, when
the cabin was dedicated not just to Ulmer but to his faculty
colleague and club co-advisor, Lillian E. Russell.
A few people have since asked me for more details about
Russell. The campus building that bears her name—Russell
Hall—will be demolished next summer, so this seems like a
good time to share what I’ve learned about Russell and her
career.
Born in Kentucky in April 1878, Russell grew up in West
Finley Township, Washington County, Pennsylvania. She
graduated from the Southwestern State Normal School in
California, PA (now California University of Pennsylvania),
in 1901. After teaching for several years in the elementary
schools of Washington County, she moved north to
Lawrence County to teach 8th Grade Social Studies at the old North Street Junior High
School in New Castle.
In 1924, while teaching full-time in New Castle, Russell completed her bachelor’s
degree at Geneva College in nearby Beaver Falls. The following year she was lured to
the Central State Normal School in Lock Haven by Principal Dallas W. Armstrong, who
had been a school superintendent in the New Castle area before coming to Lock Haven.
Armstrong realized that Russell’s twenty-five years of teaching experience made her a
perfect fit as a teacher-supervisor in the campus Model School, where she would be
showing young student-teachers the ropes of the classroom.
The terms “Model School” and “Normal School” have disappeared from the modern
education vocabulary and therefore warrant an explanation and a brief digression from
the life of Lillian Russell. A Normal School was a vocational school (usually a two or
three-year course of study) where students were trained to be public school teachers for
grades K through 6. A Model School, also called a “Training School” or “Laboratory
School,” was a public school located on the Normal School property where the Normal
School students did their student teaching. In other words, students did not have to be
placed in an off-campus school district for their teaching experience. The entire course
of study, both theoretical and practical, took place at the Normal School.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 3
Russell was hired in 1925 to perform two roles. First, she was the fifth grade teacher in
the Model School. It was her responsibility to set the daily lesson plans and to ensure
that her fifth graders fulfilled the requirements for admission to the sixth grade.
Second, she was a mentor and evaluator for all Normal School students who did their
student teaching in her fifth grade classroom. As part of this same role, she taught
social studies and social studies pedagogy in the Normal School.
One of Russell’s main interests within the broad field of “social studies” was civics—
that part of political science concerned with the rights and duties of citizenship. To
Russell and many other civics teachers of the Progressive Era, reforestation and other
forms of natural resource conservation were civic duties. Her belief in conservation as a
community obligation is probably what pulled her into the school’s Naturalist Club,
which she joined in 1932 as faculty co-advisor with Ulmer. Civics textbook questions
regarding conservation and community beautification often combined civics and the
natural sciences (See Ames & Eldred’s Community Civics, 1921):
What natural resources did your community possess which led to its settlement?
What natural resources still contribute to its prosperity?
Does government in any form (local, state, or national) regulate the natural
resources of your community?
What does your state do to help forward the work of planting trees?
Is your school a benediction of beauty upon the community? How might your
school grounds be improved?
Did Russell use similar questions
to guide discussions at meetings
of the Naturalist Club? I don’t
know. I do know that Russell and
Ulmer brought different academic
perspectives to the Club—
namely, civics and biology—and
they appear to have made a good
team. During their ten years as
co-advisors—from 1932 until
Ulmer’s death in 1942—the club’s
membership grew, hundreds of
trees were planted, the Nature
Lillian Russell (bottom row, 3rd from left) at the Naturalist Cabin
Trail was blazed, and the Club
Cabin was built. In 1934, the
Naturalist Club was hailed as “the most active club on campus.” And by 1940, it was
considered “one of the finest organizations” at the college.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 4
Russell brought something else to the Club that was far more important than civics. At
picnics, club meetings, holiday events, and homecomings, Russell was always there
with her famous brownies. It is hard to find stories of club outings in the student
newspaper that do not mention Russell’s brownies. I haven’t yet discovered the Russell
Recipe in the library archives—but I keep searching.
In 1943, shortly after finishing her master’s degree at the Peabody College of Education
in Nashville (now part of Vanderbilt University), Russell was relieved of her duties as
Principal of the Junior High Training School and promoted by President Richard T.
Parsons to direct the geography and civics department of the Teachers College. She
retired in August 1945 after forty-five years of teaching—twenty-five in Washington
and Lawrence counties, and the last twenty in Lock Haven.
Russell settled in Valhalla, New York, near her niece, Alathea Wallace Harmon. She
returned to Lock Haven for the Naturalist Club’s annual homecoming dinners at the
Club Cabin. She also returned in May 1953 to cut the ribbon to officially open the new
women’s dormitory that bears her name—Russell Hall.
The dedication of Russell Hall was one part of a naming initiative that included all
eleven buildings and athletic fields on campus. The names were chosen by a ballot
mailed to active members of the Alumni Association. It was a special event. Prior to
1953, only one campus building had ever been named in someone’s honor—Old Price
Hall, named in honor of the school’s first great benefactor Philip M. Price in 1877 and
destroyed by fire in 1888. Of the eleven people honored in 1953 “for distinguished
service to the college”—Akeley, High, Lawrence, McCollum, Price, Rogers, Russell,
Stevenson, Sullivan, Thomas, and Ulmer—Russell was the only woman.
She lived her last years in New Castle with her sister Ida Wallace and her nephew
Harold. She died at age 79 on January 3, 1958, just three weeks after the death of her
sister. She and Ida are buried next to each other in the Westfield Presbyterian Church
Cemetery in New Castle. May they rest in peace.
Russell Hall will come down in May or June of next summer. To restore the building
would cost nearly as much as to rebuild it from scratch. The good news is that the
university is planning to replace the building with a large green space, a feature that
Russell and the Naturalist Club would appreciate. I hope that we can create a small
memorial to Lillian E. Russell—maybe a flower garden, with a historical marker posted
nearby—in the midst of this campus park. She deserves it. If you would like to join me
in my effort to create a Russell Memorial, please call me, send me an email, or drop by
my office.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 5
The People’s Climate March: A Milestone Event for the Environmental Movement
~Md. Khalequzzaman (LHU Geology Professor)
The People’s Climate March (PCM) took place in Manhattan, NY on September 21, 2014
on the eve of the UN Climate Summit called for by the UN Secretary General Ban Ki
Moon to discuss the imminent danger posed by human-induced climate change.
According to the New York
Times, over 300,000 people
(over 600,000 by some
accounts) from all walks of
life, representing over 1,200
organizations from 146
countries organized the
protest rally to voice their
concerns over the lack of
action by world leaders to
address the pathways that
various countries must take to
mitigate the climate change by
curtailing greenhouse gas
emission. The PCM was
telecast by numerous TV
channels and was covered by journalists from all around the world. The rally stretched
over 2.2 miles and took five hours to march about 30 city blocks. Accompanied by
drumbeats, wearing costumes and carrying signs, thousands of demonstrators filled the
streets of Manhattan and other cities around the world to urge policy makers to take
action on climate change.
The PCM started at Columbus Circle and continued through Midtown, Times Square,
and the Far West Side of Manhattan. It was a spectacle even for a city known for doing
things big. There were 2,646 solidarity events organized by 162 countries. The PCM
will go down in the history of environmental movement as the largest public solidarity
event ever organized in the world on the issue of climate change. Up until now, most of
the climate change discussions were limited to academic analysis, news and media
reporting, independent protest rallies in various countries to demand climate justice;
and the negotiations are primarily confined among the world leaders under the United
Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). This was the first time
that a coordinated event involving environmentalists and activists from all around the
world took to the streets in a unified voice to demand actions by world leaders to find
solutions to the greatest threat that our planet faces.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 6
The participants were organized in six different categories, with the groups
representing the most vulnerable communities and direct victims of climate change,
such as the people from low-lying island nations and the victims of Hurricane Sandy. I
joined the PCM as a representative of Bangladesh Environment Network (BEN), which
was a member of the South Asians for Climate Justice. Our group was put in the front
section by the organizers since Bangladesh is a low-lying and densely populated
country and thus is considered ground
zero for the impact of climate change.
Once the march started, I walked
around freely to meet with members of
other organizations and exchanged
views with them. I met people from
Pennsylvania who were carrying
banners with messages against
hydrofracking and for environmental
justice. The mood of the rally was very
festive and the participants were
singing, dancing, chanting slogans, and
carrying festoons and banners.
Although the main focus of the PCM was to voice concern about the danger of climate
change and to demand action from the world leaders, the participants also chanted
slogans such as “Flood Wall Street, Not Kashmir”, “End CO2-lonialism”, “Bangladesh
and Manhattan will Drown Together”, and “Don’t Frack with US.” Many world
leaders and celebrities from around the world expressed solidarity with the PCM. The
UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon voiced his concerns over the menace of climate
change. In his short speech, he said that the heat and pressure from the participants of
the PCM on world leaders hopefully will help to keep the planets temperature cool.
Many world leaders who attended and delivered speeches at the UN Climate Summit
that took place on September 23 mentioned the importance of the message delivered by
the PCM. Leaders from several countries, including Germany and Sweden made
concrete promises to do their share for the UN Climate Resilience Fund. The world
leaders will meet again next year in Paris at the Conference of Parties (COP 21) under
the UNFCCC to negotiate a plan to tackle increase in greenhouse gases and to address
adaptation measures against climate change. The participants of the PCM know that
one rally will not be enough to force the world leaders to agree on a viable plan to
mitigate and adapt against climate change to secure climate justice for the most
vulnerable nations and ecosystems; however, they left the march with a sense of unity
and power of the people as a catalyst for change. One of the banners at the PCM read
“We can build our future.” Let’s hope that the people of the world will rise above
nationalistic interest to save the common future of the humanity and our only home –
the Planet Earth.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 7
Reflections on 3 Tubers
~Susan Rimby (LHU Dean of Liberal Arts and Education)
Huck Finns, of a fashion –
Rubber tubes, not wooden rafts –
The West Branch, not the Mississippi.
What are you leaving -Stressful class, boring job, hot apartment?
What are you seeking –
Coolness, camaraderie, a memory
Breaking In
~Laurie Cannady (LHU English Professor)
One week into basic, I lost the toenail of my big toe. It wasn’t a momentous or even
painful occasion. I pulled off my Army issue, wool socks, peered down at my swollen,
raw foot, and realized the nail was gone. I searched under my bunk, on my green wool
covers, in the inside of my boot, on the whole of my foot. I searched feverishly, for that
lost part of me.
The reasoning for my frantic search was not readily apparent. It wasn’t like I could
reattach it or it would be a suitable candidate for burial, but something in me needed to
find it, needed to know where it resided, since it, a part of me, no longer elected to live
on my body. There was no blood at the assumed site of abscondence, just peach, pliable
flesh, without nail, an empty bowl of a toe. Luckily for me, I eventually found it in the
toe of my sock; perfectly rounded, basic-training manicured, a toenail with no toe. My
discovery instructed me on where to look when the second one fell, and it had me
watching all my piggies, for fear each of my toe helmets would abandon me one day. I
only lost the two, but that was just the beginning of my foot dilemma, a dilemma that
arose all because we marched.
From the moment we received BDUs and boots, we marched. If we went to the chow
hall, we marched. If we had business at the range, we marched. Even if we were going
to sick call, we marched, lock step, cadenced movements, left, right, left—our feet,
leather-headed mallets, and the earth, a bass drum—we marched. Our boots against
rocks, crunched like corn nuts against teeth. In wet grass, they swished, as we slid like
skiers. Uphill, they clunked like encyclopedias flung from shelves, and downhill, they
scraped, gripping road like tires tattooing streets. And when we marched in place,
arms swinging, heads locked forward, we were music, our bodies, instruments, the
trees, our audience. Drill Sergeant Fuller served as conductor, and the birds, the sun, the
clouds, were notes written across the sky’s skin.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 8
All that music led me to sick call with foot crippling
emergencies. My baby toe, once dainty and lazy
leaning against its neighbor, grew in size and color
until it resembled a stemless cherry. Corns, I’d
chided Momma for whenever she wore sandals,
invaded my toes. My heels were not immune as golfsized pus and blood-filled blisters set up shop. When
I walked, it felt as if a water balloon were wedged
between my heel and my boot. The only relief
required popping the blisters and allowing them to
drain, but my Drill Sergeant had warned doing that
would mean more pain and possible infections that
could cost us our feet.
Not listening to my drill sergeant had landed me in
my predicament. He’d instructed all of us soldiers to
wear boots at all times, even after we’d completed
work for the day. He warned if we didn’t, we’d later
regret it, but I being my hard-headed, knoweverything self pulled off my boots as soon as we
were dismissed, put on my tennis shoes, and gave
my tired feet some much needed rest. Those poor
darlings paid later, as my boots were broken in
during road marches and runs, instead of in the
comfort of my barracks. For that act of disobedience,
I paid with pus-drenched socks that crackled once
they dried. No amount of moleskin or ointment
offered relief, so I walked on the sides of my booted feet, rather than place pressure on
newly formed corns and balloon blisters.
The worst of the pedi-pain was the road marches, which occurred in spite of the open
sores. Parts of my feet vacillated from numbness to raw stinging whenever we were
forced to put foot to pavement. Uncertain of how long we had to march and how far
we had to travel, our first road march had been grueling. We kept a steady pace, but
small hills and curves in the road quickly became train tracks, I, heavily, chugged my
way up. I cried in my mind as my feet throbbed in my boots, my back ached under the
weight of my LBE, and my neck could barely hold the weight of my head and my BDU
cap. That first march had seemed like the worst hell a body could endure, until the next
day, with the second march, and the next day with the third. After the second week of
road marches, landmarks I’d been happy to reach before, because they meant we had
completed our journey, became mere mile markers, denoting the miles left to travel.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 9
As we marched, I pondered the importance of feet, the only segments of body, when
mobilized, in constant contact with earth. When I had been naive, light-footedly
tramping on each minute of the day, my feet were invisible to me. Only when I tripped
down a step or stubbed a toe, did I notice they were there. But during the road marches,
my feet were my whole body, pulsing steps, blood congregating in the outer regions of
each toe, threatening to spew with pound after pound against dirt. During those
moments I thought, I should have been nicer to those feet and let them know how much
I appreciated them holding me upright, even when I fought to be bent.
Despite my desire to stop, I never broke ranks, never took a seat. My Drill Sergeant’s
voice in my ears, screaming, demanding, overshadowed the cries of my gnarled feet.
He commanded that we march harder, longer, until blisters popped, mended, popped
again, then hardened. Until corns calloused over, becoming more armored toe than
compromised cherry. Until toenails grew back, stronger, more resilient, and never
abandoned again. Until rigid leather conceded, fit every curve of heel, softly kissed the
tips of toes, cradled the balls of feet, supported arch, like the gentle pressure, pressing of
a mother’s thumb.
Those first weeks of basic, a similar callousing, fitting, moved over me, as I no longer
shrank under Sergeant Dorsey’s attention, as I marched through knowing not much had
changed from the civilian world to the military one. Men like Dorsey always got what
they wanted. Soldiers like me, we marched as we had been ordered.
Eastern States 100: An Ultra Challenge
~Ashley Lister (LHU Rec Management Major)
This past August, a new outdoor recreation event, “ultrarunning” came to central
Pennsylvania in the form of the first annual Eastern States 100. Ultrarunning is running
long, or “ultra”, distances (longer than the traditional marathon length of 26.2 miles).
The Eastern States is a race covering 100 miles.
Planning for this event began early last year, when regular
meetings were conducted by the race’s organizing committee
of diverse individuals who were all interested in drawing
attention to the beauty and ruggedness of central
Pennsylvania. This committee included local Race Directors,
DCNR Forestry personnel, LHU Health Science professors,
and experienced ultrarunners. Preparation entailed
coordinating with DCNR to obtain the necessary permits,
contacting potential sponsors, recruiting volunteers,
checking and clearing trails, acquiring supplies for 17 aid stations that would fuel
runners along the course, and other essential duties affiliated with managing the event.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 10
Utilizing some popular hiking trails such as the Mid State Trail, the Black Forest Trail,
the Tiadaghton Trail, the Donut-Hole trail, and the West Rim, the race course was a 100mile loop through three of the state’s forests: Tioga, Sproul, and Tiadaghton State
Forests. It began and ended in Little Pine State Park, which served as the headquarters
for the event.
Those of you familiar with these trails know that this course was very challenging for
even the most experienced of ultrarunners. But it was this challenge that made this race
so attractive. In just a few weeks after registration opened, the maximum limit of 200
participants was reached. Many runners came from Pennsylvania, but runners from 17
different states, Canada, and Puerto Rico also signed up.
The event began at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, August 16. Of the 200 registered runners, 158
actually started the race. Not only did runners need to finish this brutal course, but they
had to do so under the time limit of 36 hours, which was 5:00 p.m. on Sunday. The
organizers set cut-off times at a few of the aid stations to keep runners on track. By
Halfway House aid station (mile 51.8), half of the starters had already dropped from the
race. Reasons for dropping included failure to make the cut-offs, injuries, and fatigue –
both physically and mentally.
In the end, 72 runners finished the race under the time limit. The reward for finishing?
A shiny belt buckle with the Eastern States logo. Although it seems like a rather odd
traditions for 100-mile races, belt buckles are symbols of accomplishment and a badge
of pride in the running community.
Event planning is already underway for the second annual Eastern States 100, to take place
on August 15, 2015. More information can be found at http://www.easternstates100.com/
The Beautiful Monarch Butterfly: Conservation Needed Now
~Jessica B. Hosley and Nathaniel S. Hosley (PreK-Grade 8 & Professional Studies Professors)
The beauty of the Monarch butterfly is rare and enticing, from its vibrant black and
orange wings to the soft whisper as it glides from flower to flower, drinking its favorite
nectar. Monarch butterflies remind us of all that is beautiful and perfect in this world.
Some may see this butterfly as a simple insect, but careful study reveals the complexity
of this beautiful butterfly.
In the United States the Indiana Bat, the Canada Lynx, the Gray Wolf & the Karner
Blue Butterfly all appear on the Endangered Species list for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife
Service. There are some who believe the Monarch butterfly may not be far behind.
And, the Center for Biological Diversity & Center for Food Safety filed an endangered
species act petition citing that the population has decreased by as much as 90 percent
from a documented 20 year average and should be considered a threatened species
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 11
(monarchjointventure.org, 2014). The petition was joined by Xerces Society and
monarch scientist Professor Lincoln Brower and was submitted to the Secretary of the
Interior in August of this year.
In 1991, weather conditions in Mexico led
to the loss of nearly 70% of the
overwintering population of Monarchs. A
continued dramatic decrease in the
population of Monarchs is a complex
issue. Danaus Plexippus Plexippus (the
scientific name for the Monarch) is
threatened from several directions
including: 1) habitat loss and degradation;
2) the commercial overutilization of the
species; 3) disease and predation; 4) a lack
of the regulations to assure population
recovery; and, 5) other factors including pesticides and the spread of invasive species
(Center for Biological Diversity, et.al., 2014)
We first learned of the plight of this beautiful insect a number of years ago, and it
happened to coincide with a time when we were clearing and replanting two meadows
on our small farm just outside of Mill Hall, PA. As we began to learn more about the
Monarch we came across the Monarch Watch website, which included a lot of
information about the butterfly. In addition to providing information, the website
suggests ways of getting involved. This led to our attempts to create a habitat that
would attract butterflies and enable us to participate in the tagging efforts.
Creating the Habitat
Our home was built in 1798, and part of its charm is the surrounding farmland that
includes two meadows among the 62 acres. For years prior to our arrival, the meadows
were abandoned and overgrown with various unsightly and invasive species. A
decision to begin the process of clearing the meadows roughly corresponded with our
awareness of the plight of the Monarch butterfly. Creating habitats supports the efforts
of many to provide opportunities for the Monarch to overcome one of the major threats
to its existence. And doing so enhances opportunities for observation. So, we decided to
incorporate a butterfly-friendly habitat in our plans.
A basic plan for creating habitat includes establishing food plants and nectar-producing
plants. For monarchs, it is important to include milkweed as food plants. Milkweed
loss during the past decade has been dramatic (Pleasants, J. & Oberhauser, K., 2013).
Native to Pennsylvania is the Common Milkweed plant and this is an important food
plant for the Monarch. We included two additional species: Swamp Milkweed (a
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 12
perennial) and Tropical Milkweed (an annual). Both are beautiful additions to the
garden.
Scores of nectar-producing plants complete the necessities of basic habitat. From native
meadow plants like Joe Pye Weed, Goldenrod and Queen Anne’s Lace to Monarch
favorites we added Buddleia, Echinacea, and Zinnias. The beauty turns ordinary
spaces into an extraordinary butterfly habitat.
Although our focus has always been Monarchs, over the years our habitat has grown to
include host plants and nectar-producing plants that attract other species. In fact, we
have counted 19 species of butterflies and many beautiful birds and bees. Monarchs,
hummingbirds, and bees are important pollinators. Without them, there could be
considerable impact upon the food chain and ecosystem. A table including a number of
our favorite plants and new plants to be added in 2015 is included at the end of the
article (See Table 1).
Raising and tagging the butterfly
In June of each year the Monarch begins to appear in significant numbers in
Pennsylvania gardens. Following the long trip north after a winter in the Oyamel Fir
trees in Mexico, the Monarchs are distributed across the
mid-western, central, and eastern United States, and in
Canada. In July, we begin to find eggs that are just
slightly larger than a pinhead and the caterpillars that
emerge from those eggs. These caterpillars are barely
visible at first but grow quickly (in a matter of a couple
of weeks) to nearly 2 ½ inches in length.
Eggs hatch approximately 4 days after they are laid. So
from the first sighting of eggs, daily trips to examine the
milkweed in our garden result in the collection of
hundreds of eggs and caterpillars. During the first
couple of years, our focus was on collecting caterpillars
and, most often, larger caterpillars. In those years, the
loss of caterpillars was quite common, often due to the fact that the caterpillars had
been bitten by the tachnid fly. This bite results in the implantation of an egg of the fly,
which is fatal to the caterpillar and ends the life cycle. During the past year, we focused
more upon the collection of eggs and smaller caterpillars. The result was that a very
high percentage of the caterpillars made it to the chrysalis (pupa) and butterfly stages.
The collected eggs and caterpillars are raised in cages that become homes to as many as
60 caterpillars and butterflies at a time. The homemade cages must allow for adequate
airflow. The cages we use measure approximately 15w x 22d x 22 h and have two
screened sides, 3 plexi-glass sides, a door and a top access panel or door. The cages are
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 13
important because they provide the opportunity for observation of an amazing life cycle
process; a life-cycle that progresses from egg to caterpillar to pupa/chrysalis to
butterfly. A favorite period of observation in our family is that of the transformation
from the 2 inch caterpillar which makes it way to the top of the cage, attaches to the
cage with a silky thread and within hours is covered with a soft gold beaded, green
shell that is its protective chrysalis.
Of course the final stage, the emergence of the Monarch butterfly, is nothing short of
amazing. The butterfly appears with a bloated abdomen and crinkled wet wings.
Within minutes fluid is pumped from the abdomen into the wings and they expand to
their full size. Within another hour or two the wings dry and the butterfly is soon ready
for flight.
Tagging and releasing is fun. Tagging monarchs is a way of monitoring their numbers
and tracking any shifts in the origins of monarchs that reach Mexico. Regional tagging
helps in that it demonstrates how monarchs respond to the physical conditions and
quality of the habitats in these areas. Tagging, then, helps illuminate the dynamics of
the monarch population (Lovett, 2014). Each year we order tags from Monarch Watch.
These tiny sticker-like dots include an identifying number. Our children are excellent at
tagging the butterflies. Tiny hands that have learned over time to be gentle, press the
stickers on the discal cell of the butterfly.
After the butterfly is tagged the number and sex of the butterfly is logged. There are
several ways to identify the sex of the butterfly. The most common way is to look at the
open wings of the butterfly and check for black pheromone sacks that appear as black
dots on the lower section of the wings. If they are present, the butterfly is a male. If
not, it is a female. As a final task in tagging and logging, our children make up a name
for each butterfly and this name is entered in the log. Monarchs weigh somewhere
between .25 and .75 grams. (Oberhauser, K., 2014). Once released the butterfly will fly
up to 3000 miles to roost in the Oyamel fir trees in Mexico. The monarch is the only
known butterfly to migrate in a similar fashion to birds.
Taking the message to our schools
As a hobby, creating garden habitat and raising butterflies is a wonderful family activity.
However, the science of the butterfly, its life cycle and migration, and the threat to its very
existence are all potential contributors to a school science curriculum and a way to meet
state standards for young students in our schools. This realization shifted our focus in the
past year to how our hobby and project could make a difference in regional schools. We
worked with three schools to collect caterpillars, teach the life cycle, tag and release
butterflies. Students were excited and engaged in science. Nearly 180 third grades
students and 20 first grade students participated in Monarch science lessons.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 14
Student, teacher and administrator interest in the project is phenomenal. We have
encouraged schools to begin creating habitat. So far, four schools have expressed an interest
in working with us or on their own to develop habitat on their school grounds. The idea of
adults assisting children in cultivating ground, planting, caring for plants, collecting eggs
and caterpillars, observing and keeping data, tagging and releasing butterflies is inspiring.
For many students it could turn into an exciting adventure in science.
References/For More Information
Monarch Joint Venture. (September, 2014) Petition for listing of monarch butterflies as
threatened under the Endangered Species Act.
MonarchWatch (2014)
Oberhauser, K. (2014) Anatomy/Characteristics of monarchs. Journey North.
Pleasants, J. and Oberhauser, K. (2013) Milkweed loss in agricultural fields because of herbicide:
effect on the monarch butterfly population. Insect Conservation and Diversity 6 (2).
Xerces Society (2014) Partnership for Monarchs.
The LHU Nature Trail
~Bob Myers (LHU English Professor)
It was an easy choice for this issue’s hike: The LHU Nature Trail was rededicated just
this past spring, on April 22, and since then it has received a lot of use from students,
faculty, and staff. The trail itself was built by the LHU Naturalist Club in the 1930s, but
it had fallen into disrepair until the Environmental Focus Group restored it.
The beginning of the trail is in front of
Robinson, on the Akeley side, where you’ll
see a plaque. The trail forms a 1.5 mile loop
over fairly even surfaces. The steepest climb
(about 800 feet) is at the beginning—after that
it’s all level or downhill. The trail is blazed in
red, and you can go either way, but for this
hike we will go clockwise.
Follow the sidewalk to the right of Robinson
and go towards the rear of the building (try
to ignore the large AC units). Continue up
the stairs towards McEntire; at the top, turn left and follow the guard rail to the second
plaque: Normal Hill. This plaque was paid for by Joby Topper, Director of LHU’s
Library, in honor of his great grandmother, Laura Hassinger Barnes (Class of 1891).
After you’ve read the plaque, continue into Ulmer Woods, following the trail. This part
of the woods consists of mostly red and white oaks. You’ll pass a water tower and cell
phone tower on your left, and you’ll be able to see the athletic fields on your right.
After about 5 minutes, you’ll reach the third plaque: Birds. This plaque was paid for by
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 15
Professor Lynn Bruner, in honor of her father, Edward R. Bruner. Depending on the
season, you might well see all of the birds mentioned.
Continue on the trail. You’ll soon pass a 4-way intersection. To the right, the trail
descends steeply to the football field. If you go left, you can reach the top of the hill.
The Nature Trail continues straight, through my favorite part of the trail. You’ll see
more white pines mixed in with the oaks, and if you look carefully, you might see an
old tin can bottom nailed to a tree on the left—it’s my theory that this was a tree
identification plaque made by the original Naturalist Club. Eventually, you’ll reach the
4th plaque: Mixed Hardwood Forest. This plaque was paid for by the LHU Recreation
Management Society, and describes some of the most common trees you can see on the
trail. In fact, from the plaque, you can see all four of the trees mentioned.
The trail curves left (south) and soon you reach an intersection. A sign indicates that
the Nature Trail goes right, but continue straight for 75 yards, and you’ll reach the site
of the Naturalist Cabin. In the early 1940s the Naturalist Club purchased a cabin and
had it moved to this site. It was dedicated in
1941 and for years the club had events at the
cabin (see Joby Topper’s article above). The
cabin fell into disrepair in the 1960s, and today
all that’s left is the chimney and the brick
floor. A group of Recreation Management
students is currently working on a plan to
build a new cabin on the site, but we need
donors (if interested, please contact me).
After you’ve finished inspecting the cabin, return to the tree with the sign and go left
down the hill. The trail descends quickly before reaching an old road. Unfortunately,
this is the least scenic part of the trail because of the private truck/trailer loaded with
garbage (the same group of Rec Management students is working on rerouting the trail
to avoid this eyesore). Turn right onto the road, which has an interesting history: it is
the old Lusk Run Road, which used to run from where you are standing, through
campus, and then on to Fairview Street. In 1932 the road was rerouted to Hill Street in
order to protect the young children who were attending the model school housed in
Akeley.
Continue on the road, noticing Lusk Run to your left, until you reach the football locker
room. Stay to the right, on the path beside the trees. Go down the stairs to the paved
road, and notice the plaque to your left. This plaque was paid for by the John Way
Memorial Fund, and discusses the interesting geology of the region. A few hundred
yards down the road is another plaque, also paid for by the John Way Fund. Back by
the locker room, Lusk Run disappears into a pipe that runs under the football and
softball fields (it was “buried” in 1929). It resurfaces briefly here and forms a nice
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 16
wetland, before going into another pipe that runs under the athletic field and ends up at
the river. Follow the red blazes back to the first plaque, passing to the right of Akeley.
Our hope is to paint a mural in the concrete canyon at the end of the trail.
If you’re interested in participating in the trail maintenance projects that will be
necessary in the future, please contact Bob Myers.
Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Lee Putt, Ralph
Harnishfeger, Barrie Overton, Todd Nesbitt, Sharon Stringer, Jamie Walker, Steve
Guthrie, John Reid, Lynn Bruner, Elisabeth Lynch, Kevin Hamilton, Keith Roush, Steve
Seiler, Elizabeth Gruber, Joby Topper, Ray Steele, Michael McSkimming, Mark Jones,
Adam Nothstein, Susan Rimby, Stephen Neun, and Scott Carnicom. The committee is
charged with promoting and supporting activities, experiences, and structures that
encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a stronger sense of place for Lock
Haven University and central Pennsylvania. Such a sense of place involves a
stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism), meaningful outdoor experiences,
and appreciation for the heritage of the region.
“Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Environmental Focus Group
This October marks the seventh anniversary of the Environmental Focus Group. Since
2007 we have worked to fulfill our mission of promoting and supporting activities,
experiences, and structures that encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a
stronger sense of place for Lock Haven University and central Pennsylvania. It seems
like a good time to reflect on what we’ve accomplished.
We’ve developed two new degrees: a minor in Environmental Studies that has
enrolled 93 and graduated 32 students since 2010; and the new Associates in
Sustainability Studies.
We’ve published 31 issues of The Hemlock, which have contained articles written
by over 140 different authors, including students, faculty, staff, administrators,
and members of the community.
We restored the LHU Nature Trail, rededicating it on Earth Day, 2014.
We helped develop the LHU Environmental Club, which has adopted and
cleaned Glen Road.
We’ve sponsored such events as environmental films, panel discussions, guest
speakers, the PA Culture Festival, Earth Day Events, and tree plantings on
campus.
From the original five members who met in October 2007, the EFG has expanded to
include 40 members (22 faculty from 18 different disciplines; 8 staff members; 4
students; 5 administrators; and 1 community member). If you’re interested in being
part of the EFG as we move forward, contact Bob Myers.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 2
A Tribute to Lillian E. Russell (1878-1958)
~Joby Topper (LHU Library Director)
In my essay about Professor Levi Ulmer in the Fall 2013 issue of The Hemlock, I
mentioned that Ulmer founded the Naturalist Club, the ancestor of today’s
Environmental Club, and served as the club’s first faculty
advisor. I also mentioned the construction of the Naturalist
Club Cabin and its official opening on April 25, 1941, when
the cabin was dedicated not just to Ulmer but to his faculty
colleague and club co-advisor, Lillian E. Russell.
A few people have since asked me for more details about
Russell. The campus building that bears her name—Russell
Hall—will be demolished next summer, so this seems like a
good time to share what I’ve learned about Russell and her
career.
Born in Kentucky in April 1878, Russell grew up in West
Finley Township, Washington County, Pennsylvania. She
graduated from the Southwestern State Normal School in
California, PA (now California University of Pennsylvania),
in 1901. After teaching for several years in the elementary
schools of Washington County, she moved north to
Lawrence County to teach 8th Grade Social Studies at the old North Street Junior High
School in New Castle.
In 1924, while teaching full-time in New Castle, Russell completed her bachelor’s
degree at Geneva College in nearby Beaver Falls. The following year she was lured to
the Central State Normal School in Lock Haven by Principal Dallas W. Armstrong, who
had been a school superintendent in the New Castle area before coming to Lock Haven.
Armstrong realized that Russell’s twenty-five years of teaching experience made her a
perfect fit as a teacher-supervisor in the campus Model School, where she would be
showing young student-teachers the ropes of the classroom.
The terms “Model School” and “Normal School” have disappeared from the modern
education vocabulary and therefore warrant an explanation and a brief digression from
the life of Lillian Russell. A Normal School was a vocational school (usually a two or
three-year course of study) where students were trained to be public school teachers for
grades K through 6. A Model School, also called a “Training School” or “Laboratory
School,” was a public school located on the Normal School property where the Normal
School students did their student teaching. In other words, students did not have to be
placed in an off-campus school district for their teaching experience. The entire course
of study, both theoretical and practical, took place at the Normal School.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 3
Russell was hired in 1925 to perform two roles. First, she was the fifth grade teacher in
the Model School. It was her responsibility to set the daily lesson plans and to ensure
that her fifth graders fulfilled the requirements for admission to the sixth grade.
Second, she was a mentor and evaluator for all Normal School students who did their
student teaching in her fifth grade classroom. As part of this same role, she taught
social studies and social studies pedagogy in the Normal School.
One of Russell’s main interests within the broad field of “social studies” was civics—
that part of political science concerned with the rights and duties of citizenship. To
Russell and many other civics teachers of the Progressive Era, reforestation and other
forms of natural resource conservation were civic duties. Her belief in conservation as a
community obligation is probably what pulled her into the school’s Naturalist Club,
which she joined in 1932 as faculty co-advisor with Ulmer. Civics textbook questions
regarding conservation and community beautification often combined civics and the
natural sciences (See Ames & Eldred’s Community Civics, 1921):
What natural resources did your community possess which led to its settlement?
What natural resources still contribute to its prosperity?
Does government in any form (local, state, or national) regulate the natural
resources of your community?
What does your state do to help forward the work of planting trees?
Is your school a benediction of beauty upon the community? How might your
school grounds be improved?
Did Russell use similar questions
to guide discussions at meetings
of the Naturalist Club? I don’t
know. I do know that Russell and
Ulmer brought different academic
perspectives to the Club—
namely, civics and biology—and
they appear to have made a good
team. During their ten years as
co-advisors—from 1932 until
Ulmer’s death in 1942—the club’s
membership grew, hundreds of
trees were planted, the Nature
Lillian Russell (bottom row, 3rd from left) at the Naturalist Cabin
Trail was blazed, and the Club
Cabin was built. In 1934, the
Naturalist Club was hailed as “the most active club on campus.” And by 1940, it was
considered “one of the finest organizations” at the college.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 4
Russell brought something else to the Club that was far more important than civics. At
picnics, club meetings, holiday events, and homecomings, Russell was always there
with her famous brownies. It is hard to find stories of club outings in the student
newspaper that do not mention Russell’s brownies. I haven’t yet discovered the Russell
Recipe in the library archives—but I keep searching.
In 1943, shortly after finishing her master’s degree at the Peabody College of Education
in Nashville (now part of Vanderbilt University), Russell was relieved of her duties as
Principal of the Junior High Training School and promoted by President Richard T.
Parsons to direct the geography and civics department of the Teachers College. She
retired in August 1945 after forty-five years of teaching—twenty-five in Washington
and Lawrence counties, and the last twenty in Lock Haven.
Russell settled in Valhalla, New York, near her niece, Alathea Wallace Harmon. She
returned to Lock Haven for the Naturalist Club’s annual homecoming dinners at the
Club Cabin. She also returned in May 1953 to cut the ribbon to officially open the new
women’s dormitory that bears her name—Russell Hall.
The dedication of Russell Hall was one part of a naming initiative that included all
eleven buildings and athletic fields on campus. The names were chosen by a ballot
mailed to active members of the Alumni Association. It was a special event. Prior to
1953, only one campus building had ever been named in someone’s honor—Old Price
Hall, named in honor of the school’s first great benefactor Philip M. Price in 1877 and
destroyed by fire in 1888. Of the eleven people honored in 1953 “for distinguished
service to the college”—Akeley, High, Lawrence, McCollum, Price, Rogers, Russell,
Stevenson, Sullivan, Thomas, and Ulmer—Russell was the only woman.
She lived her last years in New Castle with her sister Ida Wallace and her nephew
Harold. She died at age 79 on January 3, 1958, just three weeks after the death of her
sister. She and Ida are buried next to each other in the Westfield Presbyterian Church
Cemetery in New Castle. May they rest in peace.
Russell Hall will come down in May or June of next summer. To restore the building
would cost nearly as much as to rebuild it from scratch. The good news is that the
university is planning to replace the building with a large green space, a feature that
Russell and the Naturalist Club would appreciate. I hope that we can create a small
memorial to Lillian E. Russell—maybe a flower garden, with a historical marker posted
nearby—in the midst of this campus park. She deserves it. If you would like to join me
in my effort to create a Russell Memorial, please call me, send me an email, or drop by
my office.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 5
The People’s Climate March: A Milestone Event for the Environmental Movement
~Md. Khalequzzaman (LHU Geology Professor)
The People’s Climate March (PCM) took place in Manhattan, NY on September 21, 2014
on the eve of the UN Climate Summit called for by the UN Secretary General Ban Ki
Moon to discuss the imminent danger posed by human-induced climate change.
According to the New York
Times, over 300,000 people
(over 600,000 by some
accounts) from all walks of
life, representing over 1,200
organizations from 146
countries organized the
protest rally to voice their
concerns over the lack of
action by world leaders to
address the pathways that
various countries must take to
mitigate the climate change by
curtailing greenhouse gas
emission. The PCM was
telecast by numerous TV
channels and was covered by journalists from all around the world. The rally stretched
over 2.2 miles and took five hours to march about 30 city blocks. Accompanied by
drumbeats, wearing costumes and carrying signs, thousands of demonstrators filled the
streets of Manhattan and other cities around the world to urge policy makers to take
action on climate change.
The PCM started at Columbus Circle and continued through Midtown, Times Square,
and the Far West Side of Manhattan. It was a spectacle even for a city known for doing
things big. There were 2,646 solidarity events organized by 162 countries. The PCM
will go down in the history of environmental movement as the largest public solidarity
event ever organized in the world on the issue of climate change. Up until now, most of
the climate change discussions were limited to academic analysis, news and media
reporting, independent protest rallies in various countries to demand climate justice;
and the negotiations are primarily confined among the world leaders under the United
Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). This was the first time
that a coordinated event involving environmentalists and activists from all around the
world took to the streets in a unified voice to demand actions by world leaders to find
solutions to the greatest threat that our planet faces.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 6
The participants were organized in six different categories, with the groups
representing the most vulnerable communities and direct victims of climate change,
such as the people from low-lying island nations and the victims of Hurricane Sandy. I
joined the PCM as a representative of Bangladesh Environment Network (BEN), which
was a member of the South Asians for Climate Justice. Our group was put in the front
section by the organizers since Bangladesh is a low-lying and densely populated
country and thus is considered ground
zero for the impact of climate change.
Once the march started, I walked
around freely to meet with members of
other organizations and exchanged
views with them. I met people from
Pennsylvania who were carrying
banners with messages against
hydrofracking and for environmental
justice. The mood of the rally was very
festive and the participants were
singing, dancing, chanting slogans, and
carrying festoons and banners.
Although the main focus of the PCM was to voice concern about the danger of climate
change and to demand action from the world leaders, the participants also chanted
slogans such as “Flood Wall Street, Not Kashmir”, “End CO2-lonialism”, “Bangladesh
and Manhattan will Drown Together”, and “Don’t Frack with US.” Many world
leaders and celebrities from around the world expressed solidarity with the PCM. The
UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon voiced his concerns over the menace of climate
change. In his short speech, he said that the heat and pressure from the participants of
the PCM on world leaders hopefully will help to keep the planets temperature cool.
Many world leaders who attended and delivered speeches at the UN Climate Summit
that took place on September 23 mentioned the importance of the message delivered by
the PCM. Leaders from several countries, including Germany and Sweden made
concrete promises to do their share for the UN Climate Resilience Fund. The world
leaders will meet again next year in Paris at the Conference of Parties (COP 21) under
the UNFCCC to negotiate a plan to tackle increase in greenhouse gases and to address
adaptation measures against climate change. The participants of the PCM know that
one rally will not be enough to force the world leaders to agree on a viable plan to
mitigate and adapt against climate change to secure climate justice for the most
vulnerable nations and ecosystems; however, they left the march with a sense of unity
and power of the people as a catalyst for change. One of the banners at the PCM read
“We can build our future.” Let’s hope that the people of the world will rise above
nationalistic interest to save the common future of the humanity and our only home –
the Planet Earth.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 7
Reflections on 3 Tubers
~Susan Rimby (LHU Dean of Liberal Arts and Education)
Huck Finns, of a fashion –
Rubber tubes, not wooden rafts –
The West Branch, not the Mississippi.
What are you leaving -Stressful class, boring job, hot apartment?
What are you seeking –
Coolness, camaraderie, a memory
Breaking In
~Laurie Cannady (LHU English Professor)
One week into basic, I lost the toenail of my big toe. It wasn’t a momentous or even
painful occasion. I pulled off my Army issue, wool socks, peered down at my swollen,
raw foot, and realized the nail was gone. I searched under my bunk, on my green wool
covers, in the inside of my boot, on the whole of my foot. I searched feverishly, for that
lost part of me.
The reasoning for my frantic search was not readily apparent. It wasn’t like I could
reattach it or it would be a suitable candidate for burial, but something in me needed to
find it, needed to know where it resided, since it, a part of me, no longer elected to live
on my body. There was no blood at the assumed site of abscondence, just peach, pliable
flesh, without nail, an empty bowl of a toe. Luckily for me, I eventually found it in the
toe of my sock; perfectly rounded, basic-training manicured, a toenail with no toe. My
discovery instructed me on where to look when the second one fell, and it had me
watching all my piggies, for fear each of my toe helmets would abandon me one day. I
only lost the two, but that was just the beginning of my foot dilemma, a dilemma that
arose all because we marched.
From the moment we received BDUs and boots, we marched. If we went to the chow
hall, we marched. If we had business at the range, we marched. Even if we were going
to sick call, we marched, lock step, cadenced movements, left, right, left—our feet,
leather-headed mallets, and the earth, a bass drum—we marched. Our boots against
rocks, crunched like corn nuts against teeth. In wet grass, they swished, as we slid like
skiers. Uphill, they clunked like encyclopedias flung from shelves, and downhill, they
scraped, gripping road like tires tattooing streets. And when we marched in place,
arms swinging, heads locked forward, we were music, our bodies, instruments, the
trees, our audience. Drill Sergeant Fuller served as conductor, and the birds, the sun, the
clouds, were notes written across the sky’s skin.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 8
All that music led me to sick call with foot crippling
emergencies. My baby toe, once dainty and lazy
leaning against its neighbor, grew in size and color
until it resembled a stemless cherry. Corns, I’d
chided Momma for whenever she wore sandals,
invaded my toes. My heels were not immune as golfsized pus and blood-filled blisters set up shop. When
I walked, it felt as if a water balloon were wedged
between my heel and my boot. The only relief
required popping the blisters and allowing them to
drain, but my Drill Sergeant had warned doing that
would mean more pain and possible infections that
could cost us our feet.
Not listening to my drill sergeant had landed me in
my predicament. He’d instructed all of us soldiers to
wear boots at all times, even after we’d completed
work for the day. He warned if we didn’t, we’d later
regret it, but I being my hard-headed, knoweverything self pulled off my boots as soon as we
were dismissed, put on my tennis shoes, and gave
my tired feet some much needed rest. Those poor
darlings paid later, as my boots were broken in
during road marches and runs, instead of in the
comfort of my barracks. For that act of disobedience,
I paid with pus-drenched socks that crackled once
they dried. No amount of moleskin or ointment
offered relief, so I walked on the sides of my booted feet, rather than place pressure on
newly formed corns and balloon blisters.
The worst of the pedi-pain was the road marches, which occurred in spite of the open
sores. Parts of my feet vacillated from numbness to raw stinging whenever we were
forced to put foot to pavement. Uncertain of how long we had to march and how far
we had to travel, our first road march had been grueling. We kept a steady pace, but
small hills and curves in the road quickly became train tracks, I, heavily, chugged my
way up. I cried in my mind as my feet throbbed in my boots, my back ached under the
weight of my LBE, and my neck could barely hold the weight of my head and my BDU
cap. That first march had seemed like the worst hell a body could endure, until the next
day, with the second march, and the next day with the third. After the second week of
road marches, landmarks I’d been happy to reach before, because they meant we had
completed our journey, became mere mile markers, denoting the miles left to travel.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 9
As we marched, I pondered the importance of feet, the only segments of body, when
mobilized, in constant contact with earth. When I had been naive, light-footedly
tramping on each minute of the day, my feet were invisible to me. Only when I tripped
down a step or stubbed a toe, did I notice they were there. But during the road marches,
my feet were my whole body, pulsing steps, blood congregating in the outer regions of
each toe, threatening to spew with pound after pound against dirt. During those
moments I thought, I should have been nicer to those feet and let them know how much
I appreciated them holding me upright, even when I fought to be bent.
Despite my desire to stop, I never broke ranks, never took a seat. My Drill Sergeant’s
voice in my ears, screaming, demanding, overshadowed the cries of my gnarled feet.
He commanded that we march harder, longer, until blisters popped, mended, popped
again, then hardened. Until corns calloused over, becoming more armored toe than
compromised cherry. Until toenails grew back, stronger, more resilient, and never
abandoned again. Until rigid leather conceded, fit every curve of heel, softly kissed the
tips of toes, cradled the balls of feet, supported arch, like the gentle pressure, pressing of
a mother’s thumb.
Those first weeks of basic, a similar callousing, fitting, moved over me, as I no longer
shrank under Sergeant Dorsey’s attention, as I marched through knowing not much had
changed from the civilian world to the military one. Men like Dorsey always got what
they wanted. Soldiers like me, we marched as we had been ordered.
Eastern States 100: An Ultra Challenge
~Ashley Lister (LHU Rec Management Major)
This past August, a new outdoor recreation event, “ultrarunning” came to central
Pennsylvania in the form of the first annual Eastern States 100. Ultrarunning is running
long, or “ultra”, distances (longer than the traditional marathon length of 26.2 miles).
The Eastern States is a race covering 100 miles.
Planning for this event began early last year, when regular
meetings were conducted by the race’s organizing committee
of diverse individuals who were all interested in drawing
attention to the beauty and ruggedness of central
Pennsylvania. This committee included local Race Directors,
DCNR Forestry personnel, LHU Health Science professors,
and experienced ultrarunners. Preparation entailed
coordinating with DCNR to obtain the necessary permits,
contacting potential sponsors, recruiting volunteers,
checking and clearing trails, acquiring supplies for 17 aid stations that would fuel
runners along the course, and other essential duties affiliated with managing the event.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 10
Utilizing some popular hiking trails such as the Mid State Trail, the Black Forest Trail,
the Tiadaghton Trail, the Donut-Hole trail, and the West Rim, the race course was a 100mile loop through three of the state’s forests: Tioga, Sproul, and Tiadaghton State
Forests. It began and ended in Little Pine State Park, which served as the headquarters
for the event.
Those of you familiar with these trails know that this course was very challenging for
even the most experienced of ultrarunners. But it was this challenge that made this race
so attractive. In just a few weeks after registration opened, the maximum limit of 200
participants was reached. Many runners came from Pennsylvania, but runners from 17
different states, Canada, and Puerto Rico also signed up.
The event began at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, August 16. Of the 200 registered runners, 158
actually started the race. Not only did runners need to finish this brutal course, but they
had to do so under the time limit of 36 hours, which was 5:00 p.m. on Sunday. The
organizers set cut-off times at a few of the aid stations to keep runners on track. By
Halfway House aid station (mile 51.8), half of the starters had already dropped from the
race. Reasons for dropping included failure to make the cut-offs, injuries, and fatigue –
both physically and mentally.
In the end, 72 runners finished the race under the time limit. The reward for finishing?
A shiny belt buckle with the Eastern States logo. Although it seems like a rather odd
traditions for 100-mile races, belt buckles are symbols of accomplishment and a badge
of pride in the running community.
Event planning is already underway for the second annual Eastern States 100, to take place
on August 15, 2015. More information can be found at http://www.easternstates100.com/
The Beautiful Monarch Butterfly: Conservation Needed Now
~Jessica B. Hosley and Nathaniel S. Hosley (PreK-Grade 8 & Professional Studies Professors)
The beauty of the Monarch butterfly is rare and enticing, from its vibrant black and
orange wings to the soft whisper as it glides from flower to flower, drinking its favorite
nectar. Monarch butterflies remind us of all that is beautiful and perfect in this world.
Some may see this butterfly as a simple insect, but careful study reveals the complexity
of this beautiful butterfly.
In the United States the Indiana Bat, the Canada Lynx, the Gray Wolf & the Karner
Blue Butterfly all appear on the Endangered Species list for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife
Service. There are some who believe the Monarch butterfly may not be far behind.
And, the Center for Biological Diversity & Center for Food Safety filed an endangered
species act petition citing that the population has decreased by as much as 90 percent
from a documented 20 year average and should be considered a threatened species
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 11
(monarchjointventure.org, 2014). The petition was joined by Xerces Society and
monarch scientist Professor Lincoln Brower and was submitted to the Secretary of the
Interior in August of this year.
In 1991, weather conditions in Mexico led
to the loss of nearly 70% of the
overwintering population of Monarchs. A
continued dramatic decrease in the
population of Monarchs is a complex
issue. Danaus Plexippus Plexippus (the
scientific name for the Monarch) is
threatened from several directions
including: 1) habitat loss and degradation;
2) the commercial overutilization of the
species; 3) disease and predation; 4) a lack
of the regulations to assure population
recovery; and, 5) other factors including pesticides and the spread of invasive species
(Center for Biological Diversity, et.al., 2014)
We first learned of the plight of this beautiful insect a number of years ago, and it
happened to coincide with a time when we were clearing and replanting two meadows
on our small farm just outside of Mill Hall, PA. As we began to learn more about the
Monarch we came across the Monarch Watch website, which included a lot of
information about the butterfly. In addition to providing information, the website
suggests ways of getting involved. This led to our attempts to create a habitat that
would attract butterflies and enable us to participate in the tagging efforts.
Creating the Habitat
Our home was built in 1798, and part of its charm is the surrounding farmland that
includes two meadows among the 62 acres. For years prior to our arrival, the meadows
were abandoned and overgrown with various unsightly and invasive species. A
decision to begin the process of clearing the meadows roughly corresponded with our
awareness of the plight of the Monarch butterfly. Creating habitats supports the efforts
of many to provide opportunities for the Monarch to overcome one of the major threats
to its existence. And doing so enhances opportunities for observation. So, we decided to
incorporate a butterfly-friendly habitat in our plans.
A basic plan for creating habitat includes establishing food plants and nectar-producing
plants. For monarchs, it is important to include milkweed as food plants. Milkweed
loss during the past decade has been dramatic (Pleasants, J. & Oberhauser, K., 2013).
Native to Pennsylvania is the Common Milkweed plant and this is an important food
plant for the Monarch. We included two additional species: Swamp Milkweed (a
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 12
perennial) and Tropical Milkweed (an annual). Both are beautiful additions to the
garden.
Scores of nectar-producing plants complete the necessities of basic habitat. From native
meadow plants like Joe Pye Weed, Goldenrod and Queen Anne’s Lace to Monarch
favorites we added Buddleia, Echinacea, and Zinnias. The beauty turns ordinary
spaces into an extraordinary butterfly habitat.
Although our focus has always been Monarchs, over the years our habitat has grown to
include host plants and nectar-producing plants that attract other species. In fact, we
have counted 19 species of butterflies and many beautiful birds and bees. Monarchs,
hummingbirds, and bees are important pollinators. Without them, there could be
considerable impact upon the food chain and ecosystem. A table including a number of
our favorite plants and new plants to be added in 2015 is included at the end of the
article (See Table 1).
Raising and tagging the butterfly
In June of each year the Monarch begins to appear in significant numbers in
Pennsylvania gardens. Following the long trip north after a winter in the Oyamel Fir
trees in Mexico, the Monarchs are distributed across the
mid-western, central, and eastern United States, and in
Canada. In July, we begin to find eggs that are just
slightly larger than a pinhead and the caterpillars that
emerge from those eggs. These caterpillars are barely
visible at first but grow quickly (in a matter of a couple
of weeks) to nearly 2 ½ inches in length.
Eggs hatch approximately 4 days after they are laid. So
from the first sighting of eggs, daily trips to examine the
milkweed in our garden result in the collection of
hundreds of eggs and caterpillars. During the first
couple of years, our focus was on collecting caterpillars
and, most often, larger caterpillars. In those years, the
loss of caterpillars was quite common, often due to the fact that the caterpillars had
been bitten by the tachnid fly. This bite results in the implantation of an egg of the fly,
which is fatal to the caterpillar and ends the life cycle. During the past year, we focused
more upon the collection of eggs and smaller caterpillars. The result was that a very
high percentage of the caterpillars made it to the chrysalis (pupa) and butterfly stages.
The collected eggs and caterpillars are raised in cages that become homes to as many as
60 caterpillars and butterflies at a time. The homemade cages must allow for adequate
airflow. The cages we use measure approximately 15w x 22d x 22 h and have two
screened sides, 3 plexi-glass sides, a door and a top access panel or door. The cages are
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 13
important because they provide the opportunity for observation of an amazing life cycle
process; a life-cycle that progresses from egg to caterpillar to pupa/chrysalis to
butterfly. A favorite period of observation in our family is that of the transformation
from the 2 inch caterpillar which makes it way to the top of the cage, attaches to the
cage with a silky thread and within hours is covered with a soft gold beaded, green
shell that is its protective chrysalis.
Of course the final stage, the emergence of the Monarch butterfly, is nothing short of
amazing. The butterfly appears with a bloated abdomen and crinkled wet wings.
Within minutes fluid is pumped from the abdomen into the wings and they expand to
their full size. Within another hour or two the wings dry and the butterfly is soon ready
for flight.
Tagging and releasing is fun. Tagging monarchs is a way of monitoring their numbers
and tracking any shifts in the origins of monarchs that reach Mexico. Regional tagging
helps in that it demonstrates how monarchs respond to the physical conditions and
quality of the habitats in these areas. Tagging, then, helps illuminate the dynamics of
the monarch population (Lovett, 2014). Each year we order tags from Monarch Watch.
These tiny sticker-like dots include an identifying number. Our children are excellent at
tagging the butterflies. Tiny hands that have learned over time to be gentle, press the
stickers on the discal cell of the butterfly.
After the butterfly is tagged the number and sex of the butterfly is logged. There are
several ways to identify the sex of the butterfly. The most common way is to look at the
open wings of the butterfly and check for black pheromone sacks that appear as black
dots on the lower section of the wings. If they are present, the butterfly is a male. If
not, it is a female. As a final task in tagging and logging, our children make up a name
for each butterfly and this name is entered in the log. Monarchs weigh somewhere
between .25 and .75 grams. (Oberhauser, K., 2014). Once released the butterfly will fly
up to 3000 miles to roost in the Oyamel fir trees in Mexico. The monarch is the only
known butterfly to migrate in a similar fashion to birds.
Taking the message to our schools
As a hobby, creating garden habitat and raising butterflies is a wonderful family activity.
However, the science of the butterfly, its life cycle and migration, and the threat to its very
existence are all potential contributors to a school science curriculum and a way to meet
state standards for young students in our schools. This realization shifted our focus in the
past year to how our hobby and project could make a difference in regional schools. We
worked with three schools to collect caterpillars, teach the life cycle, tag and release
butterflies. Students were excited and engaged in science. Nearly 180 third grades
students and 20 first grade students participated in Monarch science lessons.
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 14
Student, teacher and administrator interest in the project is phenomenal. We have
encouraged schools to begin creating habitat. So far, four schools have expressed an interest
in working with us or on their own to develop habitat on their school grounds. The idea of
adults assisting children in cultivating ground, planting, caring for plants, collecting eggs
and caterpillars, observing and keeping data, tagging and releasing butterflies is inspiring.
For many students it could turn into an exciting adventure in science.
References/For More Information
Monarch Joint Venture. (September, 2014) Petition for listing of monarch butterflies as
threatened under the Endangered Species Act.
MonarchWatch (2014)
Oberhauser, K. (2014) Anatomy/Characteristics of monarchs. Journey North.
Pleasants, J. and Oberhauser, K. (2013) Milkweed loss in agricultural fields because of herbicide:
effect on the monarch butterfly population. Insect Conservation and Diversity 6 (2).
Xerces Society (2014) Partnership for Monarchs.
The LHU Nature Trail
~Bob Myers (LHU English Professor)
It was an easy choice for this issue’s hike: The LHU Nature Trail was rededicated just
this past spring, on April 22, and since then it has received a lot of use from students,
faculty, and staff. The trail itself was built by the LHU Naturalist Club in the 1930s, but
it had fallen into disrepair until the Environmental Focus Group restored it.
The beginning of the trail is in front of
Robinson, on the Akeley side, where you’ll
see a plaque. The trail forms a 1.5 mile loop
over fairly even surfaces. The steepest climb
(about 800 feet) is at the beginning—after that
it’s all level or downhill. The trail is blazed in
red, and you can go either way, but for this
hike we will go clockwise.
Follow the sidewalk to the right of Robinson
and go towards the rear of the building (try
to ignore the large AC units). Continue up
the stairs towards McEntire; at the top, turn left and follow the guard rail to the second
plaque: Normal Hill. This plaque was paid for by Joby Topper, Director of LHU’s
Library, in honor of his great grandmother, Laura Hassinger Barnes (Class of 1891).
After you’ve read the plaque, continue into Ulmer Woods, following the trail. This part
of the woods consists of mostly red and white oaks. You’ll pass a water tower and cell
phone tower on your left, and you’ll be able to see the athletic fields on your right.
After about 5 minutes, you’ll reach the third plaque: Birds. This plaque was paid for by
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 15
Professor Lynn Bruner, in honor of her father, Edward R. Bruner. Depending on the
season, you might well see all of the birds mentioned.
Continue on the trail. You’ll soon pass a 4-way intersection. To the right, the trail
descends steeply to the football field. If you go left, you can reach the top of the hill.
The Nature Trail continues straight, through my favorite part of the trail. You’ll see
more white pines mixed in with the oaks, and if you look carefully, you might see an
old tin can bottom nailed to a tree on the left—it’s my theory that this was a tree
identification plaque made by the original Naturalist Club. Eventually, you’ll reach the
4th plaque: Mixed Hardwood Forest. This plaque was paid for by the LHU Recreation
Management Society, and describes some of the most common trees you can see on the
trail. In fact, from the plaque, you can see all four of the trees mentioned.
The trail curves left (south) and soon you reach an intersection. A sign indicates that
the Nature Trail goes right, but continue straight for 75 yards, and you’ll reach the site
of the Naturalist Cabin. In the early 1940s the Naturalist Club purchased a cabin and
had it moved to this site. It was dedicated in
1941 and for years the club had events at the
cabin (see Joby Topper’s article above). The
cabin fell into disrepair in the 1960s, and today
all that’s left is the chimney and the brick
floor. A group of Recreation Management
students is currently working on a plan to
build a new cabin on the site, but we need
donors (if interested, please contact me).
After you’ve finished inspecting the cabin, return to the tree with the sign and go left
down the hill. The trail descends quickly before reaching an old road. Unfortunately,
this is the least scenic part of the trail because of the private truck/trailer loaded with
garbage (the same group of Rec Management students is working on rerouting the trail
to avoid this eyesore). Turn right onto the road, which has an interesting history: it is
the old Lusk Run Road, which used to run from where you are standing, through
campus, and then on to Fairview Street. In 1932 the road was rerouted to Hill Street in
order to protect the young children who were attending the model school housed in
Akeley.
Continue on the road, noticing Lusk Run to your left, until you reach the football locker
room. Stay to the right, on the path beside the trees. Go down the stairs to the paved
road, and notice the plaque to your left. This plaque was paid for by the John Way
Memorial Fund, and discusses the interesting geology of the region. A few hundred
yards down the road is another plaque, also paid for by the John Way Fund. Back by
the locker room, Lusk Run disappears into a pipe that runs under the football and
softball fields (it was “buried” in 1929). It resurfaces briefly here and forms a nice
The Hemlock 8.1 (Fall 2014), page 16
wetland, before going into another pipe that runs under the athletic field and ends up at
the river. Follow the red blazes back to the first plaque, passing to the right of Akeley.
Our hope is to paint a mural in the concrete canyon at the end of the trail.
If you’re interested in participating in the trail maintenance projects that will be
necessary in the future, please contact Bob Myers.
Environmental Focus Group
Bob Myers (Chair), Md. Khalequzzaman, Lenny Long, Jeff Walsh, Lee Putt, Ralph
Harnishfeger, Barrie Overton, Todd Nesbitt, Sharon Stringer, Jamie Walker, Steve
Guthrie, John Reid, Lynn Bruner, Elisabeth Lynch, Kevin Hamilton, Keith Roush, Steve
Seiler, Elizabeth Gruber, Joby Topper, Ray Steele, Michael McSkimming, Mark Jones,
Adam Nothstein, Susan Rimby, Stephen Neun, and Scott Carnicom. The committee is
charged with promoting and supporting activities, experiences, and structures that
encourage students, faculty, and staff to develop a stronger sense of place for Lock
Haven University and central Pennsylvania. Such a sense of place involves a
stewardship of natural resources (environmentalism), meaningful outdoor experiences,
and appreciation for the heritage of the region.
Media of