midnightinchicago
I wrote about Gareth Patterson already, but if memory serves, I have not written anything about Lester E. Fisher. He used to be the Executive Director of Lincoln Park Zoo.
Dr. Lester E. Fisher was Director of the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago, Illinois from 1962 through to 1992 and has served the zoo in various capacities since that time.
For thirty years Fisher served, not just keeping the zoo running, but improving it with each passing year. The Lester E. Fisher Great Ape House (since torn down) was named for him in honour of his efforts. The Lester E. Fisher Center for the Study and Conservation of Apes was created in 2004 to replace it.
Am I going to say that anyone can run a zoo? No. It takes an extraordinary person. Just in terms of sheer logistics, it must be tough. During the years when I spent my weekends haunting the Lion House at the Lincoln Park Zoo, I sincerely hoped to meet him.
My normal routine was to head straight for the Lion House and spend a few hours there and then I would tour the rest of the zoo to see what the rest of the inhabitants were up to.
I accidently happened upon Dr. Fisher around 2000 or so. The Lester E. Fisher Great Ape House was still standing at the time and Dr. Fischer was there. One would have expected some sort of entourage, with the press snapping photographs of him. Instead, there he was, musing thoughtfully as he looked at one of the displays.
Perhaps he was waiting for someone, but I have since learned that after his retirement he spent a good deal of time at the zoo, particularly the Ape House, so perhaps this was one of his personal visits. Apes were animals much beloved by him.
“Hey!” I said, ”You’re Dr. Lester Fisher.”
I felt mildly foolish, interupting his day like this and intruding on his contentment. I am sure he wasn’t exactly brimming with pleasure over my intrusion, but he was polite and offered his hand, which I shook.
(Oddly, these days I have a better idea of how he feels. I have been on TV and in the newspapers enough so now people sometimes come up to me and say “Hey! You’re Thomas Taylor!” What I feel is amusement, that someone thinks somebody as normal as I am is so special.)
“I’ve watched you on TV,” I said, realizing that I’d better say something else before someone else interrupted us. Something intelligent. Many times when I have been alone, I’ve thought about how neat it would be to learn all the workings of the zoo, and particularly about the lion house. Had I had my presence of mind then, I probably could have had an engaging conversation with him.
Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind: “I just wanted to thank you for all the years you put in at the zoo and how much of a difference you’ve made for all of us who visit. Also, you’ve done a lot to make better habitats for the animals. I really enjoy it here.”
“Thank you,” he said. You could tell his pleasure was genuine, not just polite acknowledgement.
“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your day,” I said, and we shook hands again. “Take care.”
“You too,” he said.
And that was the last time I saw him … until three years later when he was invited to a function held at a company for which I used to work. He did not recognize me, of course, nor was his memory jogged when I told him of our encounter.
He has shaken hands with a lot of people, both important and ordinary folks like me. it would be nearly impossible for him to remember every single encounter.
But the thing was, even then, while he was even farther into retirement and still talking about his apes and the zoo and how much he loved them.
What passion and what devotion.
Last time I posted I said Gareth Patterson inspired me to start advocating for animals and people. Now I’m saying my two encounters with Dr. Lester E. Fisher are part of what keeps me going.
Thomas D. Taylor
Co-Creator
MIDNIGHT IN CHICAGO
