Published: June 01, 2006 03:45 pm            

Cancer survivor turns to birds

SAN MARCOS, Texas — Let me tell you about Phoebe Snetsinger.

She’s a hero of mine. And not just because she accumulated a life bird list with more species than any other person. I admire her more for the way she met and conquered personal adversity. She was a very gutsy lady.

In 1981, at age 50, Phoebe was diagnosed with incurable cancer and told she had less than a year to live. In similar circumstances, I’m not sure what my reaction would be — probably sadness, disappointment and maybe anger.

Phoebe did not yield to any of these. She did not sink into a blue funk and withdraw from normal life. Instead of making plans to die, she made plans to take her first long-distance birding trip — to Alaska.

Her serious interest in birds began with a death sentence. It continued for 18 years until she died on Nov. 23, 1999, in Madagascar. In a van accident. She was on a birding trip and had just chalked up bird number 8,450, the red-shouldered vanga. She had listed about 85 percent of the total world bird species — a record that still stands.

Her cancer went into remission off and on as she visited seven continents in search of birds. Heir to a small fortune as daughter of ad magnate Leo Burnett, she used her inheritance to pay for the trips. She supplied the energy and expertise to see and record the birds.

Phoebe lived in Webster Groves, Mo., and raised four children. A retired school teacher, she was a novice birder until the cancer diagnosis. She thoroughly enjoyed her Alaska journey and became truly hooked as a lister and world traveler after visiting Kenya and seeing 500 species in three weeks.

Oddly enough, Phoebe’s list continued to grow posthumously as several subspecies were reclassified as full species. She kept meticulous records of both categories.

Phoebe downplayed the numbers game as she grew older, insisting that she enjoyed birding travels regardless of how many birds she identified.

She put it this way: “Birding takes you to beautiful spots where you might never go otherwise.”

Amen to that. I keep a loose accounting of North American birds I’ve seen by marking up an extra field guide. I’ve never tried to add up all the birds I’ve seen — especially those on foreign trips. But I’ve enjoyed every birding trip I’ve ever made, and not just for the birds.

I’ve enjoyed the people I traveled with and reveled in the opportunity to explore exotic places and see wonderful sights. Double rainbows over the Amazon, waterfalls in Costa Rica, lions in Africa, giant turtles in the Galapagos, the haunting ruins of Machu Picchu — my oh my, the memories are delightful.

Phoebe suggested her ashes be scattered wherever she happened to die, if death happened on a birding trip. Her family demurred and scattered her ashes in the Teton mountains, a place she loved to visit.

All things considered, I’d say birding was good therapy for her. I’m told she died instantly in the van accident — no long suffering at all.

I can think of a lot worse ways to go.



Jerry Hall writes for San Marcos (Texas) Daily Record.

        

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