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I
had not spoken with Henry Fitch in quite
some time, and not since his wife, Virginia,
had passed away in December 2002 — but
Bob Powell had requested that we do some-

thing for Iguana, and I wanted to say “hello” and
to see if he was interested in collaborating on
something for that publication.

I called in the morning. Henry answered the
phone right away and actually sounded pleased to
hear from me. We reminisced briefly, and the sub-
sequent conversation went something like this:

RWH: You’re 92 now, right?

HSF (chuckling): No, 93.

RWH: So, how’re you feeling?

HSF: I’m pretty crippled-up and don’t get
around much.

RWH: Sorry to hear that. I guess you’re not
getting into the field then?

HSF: Well, I’m just starting a radio telemetry
project with Timber Rattlesnakes. We put
the transmitters in the snakes this morning.

RWH: (Silent incredulity).

And that pretty much tells you what Henry
Fitch is all about.

———

When I first arrived at the University of Kansas
as an incredibly naive undergraduate in 1967, I
didn’t know Henry Fitch existed, much less that
he was doing exactly the kind of research I
dreamed of doing myself. The attraction for me at
Kansas was Bill Duellman and his amazingly active
program of herpetology in the American tropics.
But now I had access to a remarkable library
(Duellman’s), and I somehow found some of

P R O F I L E
86 IGUANA Volume 10, Number 3

Henry S. Fitch: 
A Legendary Passion for Natural History

Robert W. Henderson
Milwaukee Public Museum, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Henry Fitch with a Boa constrictor in Chiapas, Mexico
(February, 1972). Photograph by R.W. Henderson.



Fitch’s publications. It was a real epiphany to real-
ize that someone was doing (and had been doing
for many years) exactly what I wanted to do. 
I devoured his classic Autecology of the Copperhead
(not knowing what “autecology” meant when I
started to read it) and anything else snake-related.

Dr. Fitch had been on sabbatical with his fam-
ily in Costa Rica, and he returned to Kansas in the
fall of 1968. I enrolled in his vertebrate natural his-
tory course and, although I don’t recall the details,
I’m sure I forced myself upon him very early on. 
I became a frequent visitor to the natural history
reservation that now bears his name, often arriving
unannounced on a weekend afternoon when he
was trying to relax and spend time with his family.
Often he allowed me to make runs, either with
him or on my own, to check the tins under which
congregated handfulls of Diadophis punctatus
(Ringneck Snakes). I think he quickly realized that
what I lacked in IQ points I easily compensated for
in enthusiasm. He encouraged me to initiate
research as an undergrad, and eventually became
my advisor when I entered graduate school at
Kansas. While still at Kansas, and long after I had
moved on to the Milwaukee Public Museum, we
spent time in the field. We worked on Anolis in
Mexico, Great Corn Island off the coast of
Nicaragua, and the Dominican Republic, and on
iguana (Ctenosaura and Iguana) ecology, behav-

ior, and conservation in Belize and Nicaragua. We
described new species of anoles, presented details
on the social behavior of anoles and iguanids, and
documented the exploitation of iguanas in Central
America (see article on p. 63).

Cumulatively, we’ve spent months together in
the field. One of my most vivid memories was
spending six weeks traveling in southern Mexico in
his truck and camper. Every dinner for those six
weeks consisted of boiled potatoes and fried Spam.
I still like Spam, but I cannot stomach a boiled
potato. While in Mexico, we ate cold cereal with
powdered milk for breakfast each morning. One
morning we were out of milk and I suggested we
have sandwiches. Dr. Fitch looked incredulous and
replied: “For breakfast?” He opted to have his
cereal with plain water and admitted that it wasn’t
very good. Henry is a creature of habit.

Long before I knew him, Henry Fitch was
already a living legend. His long-term field studies
of snake populations at the University of Kansas
field station are data-rich and amazingly thorough.
He brought mark and recapture studies of snakes
into the forefront of herpetology, and he was a
true pioneer in the use of radio-telemetry to study
movement ecology and habitat use by a variety of
snake species. In 1999, he published his landmark
book, A Kansas Snake Community: Composition
and Changes Over 50 Years (Krieger Publ. Co.).

87IGUANASeptember 2003

Henry Fitch and Bob Henderson measuring a Haitian Boa (Epicrates striatus) at Paraiso, Barahona, Dominican Republic (March
1985). Photographs by N.E. Kraucunas.



The likelihood of another researcher being in a
professional situation to conduct a similar study,
much less to have the drive, enthusiasm, and good
health to do it, are virtually nil.

It wasn’t until 1965 at the age of 55 that Dr.
Fitch finally made it to the tropics. Once there,
however, tropical fieldwork became his passion.
He eventually spent a solid year in Costa Rica with
his family in order to study the population ecology
of a wide variety of lizards. After that, any year
(especially during the long Kansas winters) that did
not include at least one trip to somewhere (any-
where!) in Central or South America or the West
Indies was considered disappointing. He was espe-
cially interested in Anolis ecology and behavior,
and has published on a wide range of topics related
to their biology, including taxonomy, behavior,
and ecology.

In 1976, we were awarded a small grant to
study iguana exploitation in Central America. We
worked together in Nicaragua for about six weeks
before I returned to the U.S. At about 65 years of
age, when other folks are thinking about retire-
ment and taking it easy, Henry set-off on his own
to visit markets all over Central America in order
to document the extent of exploitation of
Ctenosaura similis and Iguana iguana. By inter-
viewing vendors and hunters, he was able to map
a network of iguana black marketeers, with truck-
loads of the lizards going across borders from one
country to another. The next year, we spent sev-
eral weeks in the Belize City cemetery watching
the interactions of a healthy population of 
C. similis (known locally as Wish-willies) using
tombstones for basking sites, look-outs for territo-
rial males, and for retreats.

During all of the time I spent with the man,
whether on the natural history reservation in
Kansas or somewhere in the tropics, I never saw
his enthusiasm wane. He was always ready for a
new adventure, to collect the next lizard, or record
more data. Although I’m 35 years younger than
Henry, I would welcome an occasional break in
the day to put my feet up and have a cold drink.
Dr. Fitch could do that too, but only for about 11
minutes. Then it was: “Bob. Let’s go to such and
such a place and see what we can find. It’s the
locality for such and such a critter.” — and, of
course I would go because I knew that if I didn’t
I was going to miss seeing something worthwhile

and an opportunity to learn something from
someone who has forgotten more about lizards
and snakes than I’ll ever know.

I’m proud to have been Henry Fitch’s student
and frequent collaborator, and I can’t tell you how
much it pleases me that a 93-year-old man who
(supposedly) can barely get around is excited about
initiating a new project with Timber Rattlesnakes.
Decades after it no longer mattered to his profes-
sional “status,” Dr. Fitch has continued to conduct
natural history studies in Kansas and the American
tropics and to publish in scientific journals. He con-
tinues to do it because his desire to add to our
knowledge of squamate ecology has never waned.
His life is testimony to passion and doing what you
can to satisfy that passion.

88 IGUANA Volume 10, Number 3

Henry Fitch weighing a Ctenosaura similis in Nicaragua
(February 1976). Photograph by R.W. Henderson.


