And Barker, Wilson's former student, was in the thick of it.
It should be pointed out that Barker has not seen the ivory-billed
woodpecker, though one of her close colleagues at Cornell has. "I lay
awake nights,— dreaming of the day, she said. But her inside account of
the sightings and the painstaking scientific buttressing of the bird's
rediscovery make for a cloak-and-camera detective story, an example of
rigorous scientific inquiry, and a feel-good tale of cooperative
conservation.
The ivory-billed woodpecker may be elusive
now, but in its time it was one big, showy bird. Twenty inches long,
with a red Woody Woodpecker crest, prominent white bill, and startling
black and white wings, the birds caught the eye of naturalist and
artist John James Audubon when he prowled southern rivers in the 1820s.
But the birds declined with the logging of forests in the South, and by
the 1890s ivory bills had become rare.
President Theodore
Roosevelt saw the birds on a hunting trip in northeastern Louisiana in
1907. "They were noisy but wary, and they seemed to me to set off the
wildness of the swamp as much as any of the beasts of the chase,— the
outdoorsman wrote. By 1935 the birds had dwindled to the point that the
founder of the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology, Arthur "Doc— Allen,
and others camped underneath an ivory-bill nest in Louisiana, recording
and photographing the birds with the refrigerator-sized equipment of
the time. Subsequent observations were made in 1944, the last time the
bird's presence was irrefutably documented—until last year.

During the ivory-bill search, Sara Barker 94 confers with her husband and fellow Cornell ornithologist, Elliott Swarthout.
Over
the last six decades, there have been tantalizing reports of sightings
of ivory-billed woodpeckers in the southern U.S. and in remote
mountains of Cuba. The more credible sightings have prompted all-out
searches, including one by a Cornell team dispatched to the Pearl River
region of Louisiana in 2002. That team found ivory-bill evidence (large
tree cavities and trees with bark peeled rather than chiseled), but no
birds.
Then last year an expert birder named Gene Sparling
reported in great detail sighting an ivory bill during a kayaking trip
on the Cache River in Arkansas. A subsequent search by two more
experts, including Cornell's Tim Gallagher, yielded another
sighting—one so definite, so momentous that it left the scientists in
tears. It also provided a video, shot from a canoe, that scientists say
shows an ivory-billed woodpecker in flight.
"Tim came back
and went into our director's office and our director honestly thought
[Gallagher] was going to tell him he had an incurable disease,— Barker
said. "He was white, gaunt, looked like he'd seen a ghost.—
And Gallagher had, in a way. The bird that had flown past him had been
nothing more than a specter for 60 years. Within minutes, hushed phone
calls were being made. One of those calls was to Barker, in her
book-lined office on the second-floor of the lab. A decade after
leaving Colby to begin her ornithology career, she was about to embark
on the conservation experience of a lifetime.
Barker grew up
on a country farm outside of Cleveland. As a child she rode horses,
carried home stray animals, watched birds at her grandmother's bird
feeder. A competitive athlete (an attribute that would prove helpful in
her future career), Barker came to Colby planning to do science—maybe
physical therapy—and to ski race. She had already moved from medical
science to the environmental side when she did a program for field
biologists in Kenya the first semester of her junior year. In the field
most of her time in Africa, Barker learned to identify 120 different
birds by sight and sound. Barker returned to Colby and her life took
another irrevocable step when she took an ornithology course taught by
Wilson. "Something about that guy,— Barker said, smiling as she
recalled her first professional mentor. "I've talked to Sarah Goodwin
['04], another Colby grad who works at the lab now. The first thing we
said to each other was, 'Herb!' I loved his ornithology class, our
birding trips and excursions. He's such a nice guy, so bright, so
sincere. There's just some loveable quality about him.—
Wilson, for his part, still can recall Barker's enthusiasm and delight
as she began to learn about birds and their behaviors. "She was
absolutely captured by birds, no question about it,— he said.
Barker's
passion for birds led to a summer internship at the Cleveland Zoo. Her
assignment: figure out why the zoo's Chilean flamingos weren't
reproducing. "I actually made a lot of environmental suggestions,
changes to their habitat—the pen they were in, the vegetation. They had
greater reproductive success the next year. Whether I can attribute it
to my work, I don't know.—