Land farmed by immigrant families begins the story of how bluebird research started at USI.
The story of USI's Bluebird Trail begins more than 150 years ago when Bernahard Nurrenbern and John Henry Steinkamp took a chance and bought 160 acres, sight unseen, for $1.62 an acre. The two men were part of an influx of immigrants to the U.S. in the 1830s. More than a million Germans fled to the states to escape economic hardship. They sought to own their own farmland in a region where landowners tended to be wealthy aristocratic families. Years of crop failures in Europe, the threat of starvation and illegal land seizures sent Germans across the Atlantic Ocean to America. Steinkamp and Nurrenbern left behind German food riots, economic depression and unemployment that plagued the cities. Compared to all that, Evansville, Indiana, sounded like a veritable paradise.
Evansville had a population of around 150 when the Nurrenbern and Steinkamp families disembarked a paddle boat from Cincinnati, Ohio, where they had been staying for two years. They arrived penniless in Evansville, having been robbed of their savings before they arrived. The promise of land on the far west side of the little community was what kept them grounded. They left Germany in 1834 as shepherds and arrived in Evansville in 1837 with the intention of being farmers. When they reached the southern Indiana shoreline, they found a small town that boasted 36 houses, a cemetery, two churches and a small main street with thriving businesses, including a newspaper and mail services.
Upon inspection of their farmland, they were startled to find a densely populated forest with tall hardwood trees. The forest was so deep, it was dark under the canopy. As it turned out, their land was full of Cypress and White Oak trees. So, Nurrenbern and Steinkamp began felling the trees to sell the wood to pay for the supplies needed to make their dream of owning and farming their land come true. It was a struggle as the families subsisted on the wild boar and bear that roamed the thick forests.
The gift of land made it possible
Around 125 years after the Nurrenberns and Steinkamps farmed their new land in Evansville, the plot was bequeathed to another family with big dreams and plans. These new owners consisted of men from Southern Indiana industry and banking who were determined to defy the odds—and the Indiana Statehouse—and create something new on this plot of land on the west side. They were the members of Southern Indiana Higher Education, Inc. and their goal was not to grow corn, but a college.
Mary Nurrenbern, the great-granddaughter of Bernhard Nurrenbern, was now the owner of 220 acres of her family's original property. Never married, she outlived her bachelor brothers who she grew up with and farmed with her entire life. At 81, she led a rich and colorful life as the matriarch of a large family. She loved dogs, gardening and was known to climb trees in her old age. It was Mary who made the initial donation of land to SIHE for the purpose of building a public university in Evansville.
After that initial donation, Mary then talked her sister-in-law, Julia, into selling 280 acres of property to SIHE as well. From there, other large farming families of German descent (Steinkamp, Hendricks, Schmidt and Hisch) sold their land to SIHE too, knowing that it would be used for the benefit of the community as well as growing higher education in Southern Indiana. And so, within five months of Mary's original agreement to donate 220 acres, SIHE had quietly purchased 1,200 acres for their plans.
The Campus Beauty
In the spring of 1966, Princeton University architect Jean Labaut visited the land at the request of Indiana State University President Alan Rankin. Touring the property, he said he was "surprised to find an area of such natural, unmolested beauty so close to Evansville." As the first University buildings went up on Mary Nurrenbern's land, Purdue University botany professor, Dr. Alton Lindsey, a contemporary of Dr. David L. Rice, also walked the acreage surrounding the small campus and concluded that USI had the greatest botanical diversity of any campus he had visited, except, perhaps for the Redlands Campus in California. High praise indeed. He then tempered the praise with the warning that he would "retroactively flunk" Rice if he didn't manage the property carefully.
The bears and boars that roamed the woods when Bernhard Steinkamp bought his property were long gone. The woods were now filled with white-tailed deer, wild turkey, rabbits and an amazing diversity of birds. It was a place where the Westwood Garden Club, along with the Boy Scout Troop 370, carved out 5.5 miles of trails that wove around bluffs and creek beds. Doris Eicher, who grew up with parents who encouraged a love of the outdoors, led the group. Birdsong must have filled their ears as they worked.
Westwood Garden Club and the Audubon Society join forces
Garden Club member Helen Buck and her husband, Richard, were long-time members of the Audubon Society of Evansville. At one point, the Evansville chapter had been independent; Helen and Richard worked to shape the chapter and guide it back to the international organization. "We aren't just old ladies in tennis shoes," she said tartly in an article in the Evansville Courier and Press. "The group today isn't even recognizable from what it was ... little by little, we are accomplishing something."
Members of the Garden Club had always participated in the Great American Bird Count, counting birds they spotted from their yards. The Buck and Eicher families went out to the Indiana State University-Evansville campus for their count. Both families had always had bluebird houses on their property. More than just pretty, bluebirds have an expressive range of sounds from plaintive to scolding to warbling. A 1972 bird count showed locally there was a sharp decline in the bluebird population due to habitat loss as the west side of Evansville was rapidly developed. Country-side was being paved as progress pushed through. Banking on their friendship with ISUE President David L. Rice, himself a great outdoor enthusiast, Helen Buck and Doris Eicher send him a letter with a proposal—they wanted to build a bluebird trail on campus.
Less than a week later, Doris Eicher received a letter from Dr. Rice approving their request for the trail to be made. He instructed the club to meet with Paul Grimes, Superintendent of Buildings and Grounds, about the location of the trail, with the understanding that if the campus grew, the trail would have to be relocated.
On March 18, 1972, members of the Westwood Garden Club and Audubon Society of Evansville met to put together 22 bluebird houses with donated wood. By April 1, Virgil Eicher and Richard Buck put the houses up on ISUE property which had been donated by Julia Nurrenbern. Bluebirds will fledge up to three times, if the conditions are right, beginning in March. The first year, the newly-named Mid-America Bluebird Trail counted 11 fledged bluebirds and one chickadee. Buoyed by their success, the Garden Club spent the rest of the year learning as much as they could about the identification, migration habits, feeding and horticultural needs of birds. The following year, the Buck and Eicher families created a paper log in which they recorded daily observations.
In neat, capital letters, Helen Buck made observations such as a doe stepping out of the thicket between boxes six and seven, a camomile in bloom and a groundhog den. Helen noted a particular bluebird mother swooping at Richard's head seven times while he opened a box to inspect the young—"Both the male and female scolded constantly." She also reported a variety of snakes and turtles laying eggs by Reflection Lake. She marveled over the number of birds and botany, all the while photographing campus. It was truly a labor of love for the two families as they spent countless holidays on the trail, often bringing friends and picnic lunches.
Research that Helen Buck provided to the Audubon Society and the North American Bluebird Society pointed out that one of the little culprits in the decline of the bluebird population was other birds. The main culprit was the English house sparrow, brought over around 1850 with immigrants as a reminder of home.
As the U.S. became a melting pot of cultures, people brought with them reminders of home including seeds of plants and flowers, as well as little birds. They were beautiful reminders of home, but unfortunately soon became an invasive species, making a direct impact on the native species.
The population of the sparrow exploded and the birds created extensive damage to crops and fruit trees. The aggressive little birds also took over the nesting sites of other native birds, including the bluebirds. They harassed, attacked and killed those native birds competing for the nest sites, and they also destroyed eggs at those nest sites. With this information, the Garden Club altered its bluebird box design and began removing the telltale sign of sparrow nests as soon as they began appearing in the bluebird boxes. They also plugged the holes as soon as the bluebirds finished nesting to prevent other birds from using them.
Inspired by what they learned about the bluebirds, the Buck and Eicher families put together a slide presentation of their research. They began speaking to local groups, churches and schools about the observations on USI's trails and their conservation efforts of behalf the eastern bluebirds. Donations began pouring in. Everyone was interested in the bluebirds, from church groups to local elementary schools. The Eichers put many miles on their car, as their love for the bluebirds took them to Illinois and Kentucky. It was a family affair until 1977—a small notation on the back of the log noted the death of Virgil Eicher, who passed away following open heart surgery. Oddly enough, after such a successful run, there was an unexplained absence of bluebirds that was noted in the field logs. No bluebirds visited the boxes from 1978-1981.
The Bluebird Trail floundered in those four years the bluebirds stayed away. By the 1990s, the original members of the club moved on to other projects and the club had changed with the times. It was Dr. Chuck Price, Professor Emeritus of Teacher Education, who revived the little trail. Like the Bucks and Eichers, Price found great personal satisfaction in taking photos of nature. He came across the bluebird boxes that had fallen into disrepair and began working with Don Fleming, Property Supervisor and Services Coordinator, on building 50 new boxes to move to the grasslands surrounding campus.
Price also wrote a grant that ensured it's continued success, relying on USI students to be the new trail monitors. He also worked with the Audubon Society in banding the bluebirds as another method of research. One of the fun things he did on the Bluebird Trail was put a small camera inside one of the boxes near the Children's Center. The students were able to witness first-hand the successful hatching of some bluebirds. When they came in the next day, the sight of a very large, full, black snake was what greeted them in the box. It was a hard lesson for the 3- to 5-year-old children to learn.
Finally, Price also made sure to take his science education students out on the trail to give them an example of bringing the outdoors to the classroom.
After Price retired, he passed the job on the trail to Dr. Jim Bandoli, Professor Emeritus of Biology. Along with then-Director of the Physical Plant Steve Helfrich and Fleming, Bandoli wrote a proposal about the establishment and maintenance of the natural areas surrounding USI. As campus grew and expanded, so did the possibility of a dip in the population of bluebirds and other natural wildlife. As a researcher in wildlife biology, Bandoli knew the conservation of campus was important to any future research by biology students and faculty. He took care of the boxes the first year, then recruited students from his wildlife biology class for the task. Most of the students at that time weren't necessarily going to be wildlife conservationists or park rangers, but they all loved being outdoors.
Long-term studies of the bluebirds
What started out as an affectionate conservation effort for saving for bluebirds in the 1970s has become a long-term study of how climate and environmental problems can affect nature. Dr. Alex Champagne, Associate Professor of Biology, took over when Bandoli retired. Champagne's team of student monitors collect information that can be used to answer questions about global warming, migration habits and food supply for birds. If the summers are too hot and dry, do the birds go elsewhere? Do they lay fewer eggs because there is not enough food supply for the bluebirds? Are the invasive, non-native house sparrows and starlings taking over bluebird boxes after killing the babies and driving away the parents?
Jessica Yorgenson '23 spent two semesters monitoring the boxes. The pre-med graduate of USI had finished a semester of chemistry research and was drawn to the Bluebird Trail research after her animal physiology class with Champagne. "I'm an outdoors person and this project really helped me to appreciate our beautiful campus. It helped me and my dog stay active as well and was a boost to our mental health."
The frogs were an unexpected surprise for Yorgenson during her time checking the nests. She found several in the boxes over the year she monitored them. "I love frogs so this was always a great surprise!"
"This research also gave me a clear example of how these birds are being affected by climate change as our current bluebirds are laying their eggs approximately 12 days earlier in the year than they did when this monitoring project at USI first began in the 1970s," Yorgenson adds. "This shows that the bluebirds are adjusting their behaviors to the warmer temperatures that occur earlier in the year. Conversely, Carolina Chickadees do not seem to be making this same adjustment. The long-term consequences for these two different populations should be studied by future USI bird box monitors."
For Kaitlyn Knox '25, an excercise science major, the Bluebird Trail has been a family affair, something that circles back to the days of the Bucks and Eichers. Waiting for her in the car as she checks each box are her mom and sister, who eagerly await updates on their favorite boxes and look at Knox's phone to see photos of birds, eggs and nests. She reports to them about being dive-bombed by the protective mother bird on box 38 again. And at box 11, she tells them the lone egg she saw last week was now broken on the ground with no sign of fledgling. She also reports finding a tiny dead fledgling along the walking path in front of Reflection Lake.
Like most students, she is tasked with knocking out the nests of house sparrows that attempt to take up residence in the boxes. But Knox laughs and says she was too soft-hearted to destroy the nest of brown spotted sparrow eggs she found at box 8, by the Residence Halls. "This one is my fault," she sighs. She had no knowledge of birds when she started monitoring ("They actually kind of freaked me out," she states.) but has learned much in the month she has worked the trail. She can now identify the type of bird from its nest and spot a Carolina Chickadee from a sparrow as they fly from the boxes. And unlike her predecessors, she enters her data on the boxes via her phone directly into Google Sheets.
Legacy is something that is lasting on the USI campus and Evansville west side—whether it's the Nurrenbern and Steinkamp families who still farm on this side of town to the progress afforded campus thanks to the donations made by Mary and Julia Nurrenbern 60 years ago. Even the work of the Westwood Garden Club lives on, as another generation of USI faculty and students take to the trails, checking bluebird boxes to help research and understand how commercial expansion and residential growth can impact a bluebird and us.
Thanks to USI Archives, Bobbie Steinkamp Richardson, Charles Steinkamp, Willard Library, Dr. Chuck Price, Dr. Jim Bandoli, Dr. Alex Champagne, Jessica Yorgenson, Kaitlyn Knox, Sue Vernier, Richard and Helen Buck, Virgil and Doris Eicher, the Westwood Garden Club and the National Audubon Society for contributions to this story.
Credits:
Barbara J. Goodwin