Man did not weave the web of life – he is merely a strand in it.

Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

Chief Seattle, 1854

ONE OF THE MOST encouraging aspects of the Whooping Crane Recovery Project is the number of partnerships which fuel the engine of this m i g h teffort. Tobe sure, the politics are sometimes tedious and unwieldyeach memb of the partnership has its own agenda. But more often than not, a higher purpose inspires the decision-making, and the survival of the cranes becomes paramount.

Many of the people who represent the different partnerships have hearts in the right places. One such person, Scott Tidmus, works for the cranes through the grace of Disney’s Animal Kingdom. I have had the honor of working by Scott’s side as he has helped establish the young birds in their winter home at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge.

Scott tends the crane chicks at the St. Marks NWR pen. Scott Tidmus’ story is of interest. He comes from a farm near Cheney, Kansas. How, then, did he arrive here, working with the endangered Whooping Crane? Listen to the Earth. Great grandmother Lola Justice, a fullblooded Cherokee gave him the foundation upon which Scott builds his work: “Close your mouth, and open everything else,” she told him. He was eight years old. “She taught me to listen, to see, smell, feel. She taught me to be a good observer. We have lost our ability to fit in with nature. We have lost the insight, the way to co-exist.”

With this insight in his heart and mind, Scott began to step into a world with a different set of glasses. In 1979, at age 15, in a high school biology class, he met Maurie, who ran a birds of prey rehabilitation center in his backyard. Maurie brought in a raptor named Suwannee, a Swainson’s Hawk. Scott sketched the bird, drawn in by its piercing yellow eye. He began work with Maurie, cleaning the rehab site, chopping up frozen rats and other critters on the raptor dinner menu.

Throughout high school he continued his work with raptors. Even in college, while studying computer science as a major, Scott volunteered at the rehab site, now re-located with a state license and a new name: The Prairie Raptor Program. His journey continued when in the spring of his freshman year, he walked out of the computer science class and into biology, chemistry and physics, where he stayed to hone the knowledge base he brings to his work today.

In 1986, Scott went to work for the Sedgewick County Zoo in Wichita, Kansas. Occasionally, people would drop off injured raptors to be cared for by the zoo. Scott would deliver them to the Prairie Raptor Project for rehabilitation. Maurie could tell when Scott himself had stabilized an injured bird. “You wrapped this wing, didn’t you?” he said one day, receiving a Prairie Falcon into his care.

In 1998, Scott left the zoo and went to work for Disney’s Animal Kingdom as a Zoological Manager. Scott is a valued part of the St. Marks team, helping to set up the initial flyover, to tend the cranes, to consult as needed, and to share crane stories and information with refuge visitors.

Scott Tidmus has had some interesting adventures. A lion, whose sharp claws ripped Scott’s shirt into shreds, did little other damage. Scott pulled out a zebra, mired deep in mud. He has traveled in Niger to work with ostriches. Visiting there is often dangerous for foreigners, and his stories bring chills to listeners. But one of the greater challenges Scott faces in his work is serving as a grant reviewer. From around the world, Disney receives proposals to help species in crisis. Some grants are funded, and some are not, lending a dark side to the job. “It is both a challenge and a blessing,” Scott notes.

Most of all, it’s the kids Scott loves. “Kids are the future. I want them to have a chance to see in the world what I have seen, and to conserve it. We need to connect with them, coach them, shape them. We need to teach them how to be keepers.” What children do, Scott believes, reflects on him. “I want my legacy to carry on to the next generation.” And Scott brings this full circle: “I try to do the best I can, for my family, for my work. I do this to remember the people who helped me get here. I don’t want to let them down. If I leave this world a better place, then I will have done my job.”

Taught in his young years by his Cherokee great grandmother, Scott Tidmus walks softly every day within the web of life. Scott’s commitment to the wild creatures and the world we share with them, is a powerful model for us all.