Edward O. Wilson’s special connection to Alabama
When Edward O. Wilson died on Dec. 26, at the age of 92, he had long been recognized as one of the world’s most respected and influential scientists. A biography of Wilson published in 2021 and written by Pulitzer Prize recipient Richard Rhodes, aptly titled “Scientist,” calls him “one of the half-dozen greatest biologists of the twentieth century.”
Wilson’s path to accomplishment and worldwide acclaim began in Alabama. Born in Birmingham in 1929, Wilson spent much of his youth on the Gulf Coast. In addition to Alabama, he lived at various times in Florida, Georgia, Virginia, Maryland and Washington, D.C. In the nine years between starting fourth grade and graduating from high school, Wilson attended 14 different schools.
“A nomadic existence made nature my companion of choice,” he later wrote.
Wilson earned his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in biology from the University of Alabama and his Ph.D. in etymology from Harvard University. He was on the faculty of Harvard from 1956 through 1996, becoming the leader in the emergence of sociobiology – the study of the biological basis of social behavior in animals (including humans) – as a scientific discipline.
If anything, Wilson was even more active in retirement. Acting on his belief that “each species is unique and intrinsically valuable,” he was devoted to furthering the fields of biodiversity and conservation, emphasizing the critical role of science in preserving life on Earth and in enhancing every aspect of human endeavor.
“Ed believed that our happiness depends on our connection to nature,” said Bill Finch, founding director of Alabama’s Paint Rock Forest Research Center, near Trenton. “Through his work and the things he supported and encouraged, he gave us a new way of thinking about life.”
Exploring home
Among other pursuits, retirement allowed Wilson to spend more time in his native state. His lifelong affinity for Alabama, the state’s influence on his early development and choice of careers, and its status as one of the world’s great centers of biodiversity exerted a powerful pull. He became directly engaged in numerous conservation efforts, including serving on the advisory council of the Paint Rock Center – a position he held at the time of his death.
“He had a real connection, based in his knowledge that Alabama is special,” Finch said. “He was deeply aware of the facts, like Alabama having more species of turtles than any country in the world, more species of mussels than all of Central and South America, as many species of fish as all of Europe. He wanted to come back to Alabama and explore it more.”
Wendy Jackson spent 15 years as executive director of the Freshwater Land Trust in Birmingham, and retired in 2020 as executive vice president of the Washington, D.C.-based Land Trust Alliance. She first met Wilson in the 1990s, when she was working for the Nature Conservancy. Jackson gave Wilson a picture of an ant that her then-6-year-old son had drawn for him. Charmed, the scientist inscribed a book to her son, complete with his own drawing of an ant.
“My son still has that book,” Jackson said. “My impression of Wilson that day was how nice and thoughtful he was, and that impression never changed. Every time I met him, I marveled at the brilliance of his mind, but also at his humility.”
Two decades later, under Jackson’s leadership, the Land Trust became involved with Faith Apostolic Church, in the west Birmingham neighborhood of Powderly, in helping preserve the endangered watercress darter. The church founder and leader, Bishop Heron Johnson, gave his full support to the effort to save the tiny fish, which is found only in Jefferson County. The church and the Land Trust established the Seven Springs Ecoscape, a meditation garden adjacent to the church that is designed to prevent pollution of the spring that is the darter’s habitat.
Johnson and the church received regional and national recognition for their efforts, along with numerous environmental awards. Their work drew the attention of Wilson, who sent the minister a copy of his book “The Creation” – in which he proposed that the scientific and religious communities join forces to preserve biological diversity – along with a letter suggesting that the partnership between Faith Apostolic and the Land Trust was a model for just what the book proposed.
In 2014, Johnson (who died the following year at the age of 95) and Wilson met. Wilson appeared at the University of Alabama at a dinner celebrating establishment of a fellowship in his name, and Johnson was there to shake his hand.
“It was one of the greatest moments of my life,” Jackson recalled. “To see this great man of science and this great man of God shaking hands to celebrate biodiversity was an incredible thing, happening right here in Alabama.”
Wilson’s connection to Alabama extended to its cultural icons. In the spring of 2010, the Nature Conservancy invited members of the Alabama Academy of Honor to join Wilson on a hike of the Red Hills Complex in Monroe County. The 5,000-plus-acre preserve is the habitat of the federally protected Red Hills salamander and other rare plant and animal species.
Among the academy’s members at the time was the late Kathryn Tucker Windham, the noted folklorist beloved by generations of Alabama schoolchildren as the author of the series of books of “true” ghost stories that began with “13 Alabama Ghosts and Jeffrey.” At the time, Windham was 91, and while unable to take the hike, she wanted to meet Wilson.
“She asked me to drive her,” remembered Windham’s daughter, Dilcy Hilley. “So I did, and for me, it was like being Brer Rabbit, thrown into the briar patch.”
When Wilson and the group returned from the hike to a barbecue lunch, he sat at Windham’s table. The two had “a very nice conversation,” Hilley said. Knowing of Wilson’s interest in ants, Windham asked him if, when he was a child, his family ever put the legs of a table in cans of water to keep ants from crawling up to the tabletop. Wilson said that yes, they had.
“He was very gracious,” said Hilley. “He and my mother chatted like they were old friends. And before we left, he autographed a book for me and drew an ant on the page.
“It was a wonderful day.”
“A giant among us”
During his academic career and in the years afterward, Wilson authored or co-authored well over 30 books – winning Pulitzer Prizes for “On Human Nature” (1979) and “The Ants” (1991) – and wrote 433 scientific papers. He received more than 150 awards, medals and honors from organizations around the world. Numerous animal species have been named in his honor. He was world-renowned.
Yet, in his own mind, Wilson was always a boy from Alabama. In “Scientist,” author Rhodes noted that Wilson “always felt more like an Alabamian in the North than a confirmed Harvardian,” and Wilson’s friend Bill Finch stressed repeatedly that “Alabama was special to Ed.”
“I’ve told him many times that he is the most famous Alabamian,” Finch said. “If you go to Asia or Africa and mention the Alabama football coach, almost no one will have any idea who you’re talking about. But if you mention Ed Wilson, a huge percentage of the world knows him.
“I think maybe he began to realize that, in a very real sense, he became famous because of Alabama. It became important to him to reconnect with it and expand his knowledge of it.”
For Wendy Jackson, one reason Wilson was important was that his presence helped dispel “preconceived notions” about Alabama and its people. Like Finch, she considers Wilson not only the most famous Alabamian around the world, but also one of the greatest people in the state’s history.
“When he died, I was devastated,” Jackson said. “We were not close personal friends, but I hold him in such high esteem for who he was. He changed the way people think about the world, but he always celebrated Alabama. He was a giant among us.”