ALB!ONOTES
Faculty and Friends Clara Dixon on Aug. 31, 2009 in Stonington, ME. Clara was appointed to the biology faculty of Albion College in 1946, after earning a bachelor’s degree from the University of Toledo and an M.S. degree from the University of Michigan. She later completed an M.A. at the University of Chicago and a Ph.D. at the University of Michigan. She retired and was named professor emerita in 1985. Along with Ewell “Doc” Stowell, she was instrumental in the establishment of the Whitehouse Nature Center. An ornithologist, she was best known for her research on the Savannah sparrows of Canada. Over the course of 16 summers, she and more than 20 students traveled to New Brunswick to study the sparrow population there. She was cared for in her later years by Mickey Botma Jacoba, ’55. (Please see the remembrances of Clara Dixon by colleagues and former students on this page.) Charlotte Edith Amos Isaac on July 3, 2009 in Fort Myers, FL. She graduated as a registered nurse from the Philadelphia General Hospital School of Nursing in 1937. Edie enlisted and served as a first lieutenant in the U.S. Army Nurse Corps from 1942 to 1945. She later nursed at hospitals and summer camps. Edie served as director of student health services at Albion College and traveled to rural Calhoun County homes to provide nursing care. She and her husband, Elkin “Ike” Isaac, ’48, were married Dec. 22, 1944 in Horningsham, England. They settled in Albion, where Edie was an active community member in addition to her work in health care. She was a member of First United Methodist Church. In addition to her husband, she is survived by a daughter, a son-in-law, a daughter-in-law, and four grandchildren, including Natalie Dubois, ’97, and Brigitte Dubois, ’01. Ewell Stowell on Nov. 3, 2009. As the fall-winter Io Triumphe! was going to press, we learned of the death of Ewell “Doc” Stowell, professor emeritus of biology. Doc is survived by his wife, Barbara. More complete information will appear in the next edition.
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Larger than Life: Remembering Clara Dixon sparrows (her research species), heard about the International Crane Foundation and Erich Klinghammer’s Wolf Park, and listened to the songs of humpback whales. Thank you, Clara.
Clara Dixon, professor emerita of biology, passed away Aug. 31, 2009. (See accompanying note.) She is remembered in the comments below by her colleagues, friends, and former students. I knew Clara Dixon in the prime of her life. In the early 1960s, she was excited about working on her doctoral research and had a gentle way of bringing that excitement into the classroom. In Introductory Zoology, she inspired me to go beyond the textbook and begin reading the scientific literature. In Vertebrate Natural History, she encouraged me to think about life’s diversity and how it could be studied scientifically. And in a senior seminar on Evolution, she introduced me to ‘big questions’ in biology. Most importantly, Clara took a strong personal interest in her students. Whether I was riding around the countryside with her in her Karman Ghia or talking about life over coffee at her house, I knew I was in the presence of a caring, intellectually curious person. She was a wonderful role model for an aspiring scientist. Ted Fleming, ’64 On the plane going home after my interview for a biology position at Albion, I realized to my dismay that the person I found most exciting and interesting—Clara Dixon—would be retiring at the end of the next year. Fortunately for me, and for all of us, she remained for another two years. I spent many happy Saturday afternoons talking with her at her house on the hill. Clara was not a large person, but she was larger than life. She was serious about civil rights, women’s issues, and the wellbeing of her students. She cared passionately about biology, the Whitehouse Nature Center, and her cat, Bert. Clara was uncommonly good-natured. I can close my eyes now and hear her laughter. Ruth Schmitter Associate Professor of Biology My life is one of many enriched by Clara Dixon. In her classes we learned to identify hundreds of birds, reptiles, and mammals (and knew their Latin names); we learned their behavior and their importance to the world; we learned to respect and love them. During my 25 years as the director of the Whitehouse Nature Center at Albion College (a job she steered me toward), I used what I learned in those classes nearly every day, and my personal life has been enriched by years of bird-watching with my husband and Albion friends. Clara lives on in the memory of her friends and colleagues as a unique and strong-minded but modest individual. For me she also lives on through the memory of the vivid details of her classes, where I saw my first bluebird, learned about Savannah
Tamara Crupi, ’79 Director (retired), Whitehouse Nature Center Though almost diminutive in stature, Clara Dixon was a giant in her personality and influence. Her mantra was “What’s in this for the student?,” and no plan that we discussed in the Biology Department went unchallenged by that admonition. She enticed the best from her students who hoped to excel as much for Clara as for themselves. She nurtured the inquiring mind of students who were excited by the natural world, and she was genuinely perplexed by those who did not share her passion for learning and her love of all things wild. She personified the very best in all of us, and the strength and reputation of the department was due in no small way to the high standards she demanded of all of us. She made learning fun, with a rigorous and attentive style that students never resented. She was a role model for women in science and no less so for all who knew her, worked with her, and genuinely cared for her. I miss seeing her snowshoe across campus from the farm on the hill. What a remarkable woman. Jeffrey Carrier Professor of Biology Not even 5:00 a.m. “Get up; you must hurry. I spotted the Kirtland warbler. It’s such a rare bird; you will want it on your life list.” Twenty groggy-eyed students shuffle out of bed Don heavy coats, gloves, hats. She leads them a mile or so beyond the cabins. The Michigan woods are cold; dawn is just breaking. And there, atop a young jack pine, A small grayish and yellow warbler Sings a loud, low-pitched song. For these birders, a find of a lifetime, the Kirtland. “Do you see it?” she asks, passing from one student to another. “Do you see it?” And they stay until all see it, Mark it on their life lists. Mickey Botma Jacoba, ’55 (Excerpted from remarks at the funeral service for Clara Dixon)