Skyward Article

By Stephanie Harvin     The Post and Courier Jul 6, 2003

AH: Novelist finds inspiration through her work at the S.C. Center for Birds of Prey

A shot rings out and a bald eagle falls from the sky. Lijah Cooper, the elderly Gullah sage, follows the plunge of the bird he calls Santee and rushes to pick her up. He carries her in his arms to the Coastal Carolina Center for Birds of Prey for treatment.

So opens Mary Alice Monroe's new novel, "Skyward," but the scene is one that happens all too often in real life. Eagles, ospreys, falcons, vultures and hawks in the wild are shot by hunters. They have head injuries when they are hit by autos or airplanes or intestinal problems when they are sickened by polluted water.

James D. Elliott Jr. has made it his life's mission to help the raptors recover and return them to the wild if possible.

A former commercial Realtor who hated sidewalks, Elliott established the S.C. Birds of Prey Center in 1991 in Awendaw on 5 acres. He, like many of his volunteers, loved the soaring birds, and after volunteering at a center in Charlotte, he decided South Carolina needed a center. The first center was small, and his home served as the office and clinic. Gradually it expanded with outbuildings, mews, a donated church school building that became the main hos-pital and flight pens for large birds to test their wings before they are released back into the wild.

Since then, 3,000 birds have recuperated and been released. Last year alone, 400 birds were cared for by volunteers who work around the clock, 365 days a year. Some of the birds are injured, some are sick and some are babies that have fallen out of nests or whose parents have died.

"This eagle, No. 82, is a permanent resident," says Elliott. "She was shot in 1993 and never fully recovered. We can't release her because she won't survive. Raptors need 100 percent motion if they are to hunt."

The massive bald eagle sits on the arm of Robert Allen, the resident bird curator. Even though she is trained for demonstrations, she pants with her tongue out, looking even more fierce as her beak comes close to his face. Allen holds her by jesses, the leather straps that are fitted to the bird's legs to keep it from flying away.

"That's stress," says Elliott, referring to the panting. "Birds are afraid of humans, and their heart rate and blood pressure go way up when they are confined. We lose more birds to stress than we do to infection."

In the small hospital building past the isolation mews, another eagle is being treated for a shotgun wound. Once inside the hospital, the birds are carefully inspected for injuries. Birds of prey often hide their wounds because any sign of weakness is deadly in the wild. Injured birds come from all over the state and surrounding states, transported by specially trained volunteers who often drive relays to help the birds reach the clinic.

Veterinarians who specialize in orthopedics, internal medicine and ophthalmology often work at the clinic after hours because it gives them a chance to work in a field of medicine they don't see in their regular practices. Medical technicians and people of all walks of life donate services and time.

Monroe started as a volunteer because a friend, Mary Pringle, thought she might be interested after Monroe wrote about sea turtles nesting on the Isle of Palms in her novel "The Beach House." Monroe likes using wildlife as a metaphor for life, weaving factual information about conservation into her love stories. As soon as she saw the Awendaw center, she knew that there was a story there, but she didn't know what it was.

"I knew that the birds would tell me eventually. It turned out to be one of healing," says Monroe.

Monroe used Elliott and his work as inspiration, although she is careful to point out that all the characters are fictitious, and the early operational procedures of the center in the book bear no resemblance to the actual center's.

She volunteered, not to do research, but because she found herself enthralled by the massive raptors, the quiet movements of the staff and the dedication to preserving wildlife.

"There was this moment when I was carrying a great horned owl that was so powerful and it hit me, 'My God, I'm holding this magnificent creature.' "

Monroe worked as hard as anyone for a year. Elliott needs a commitment of a regular shift each week and, like one of her characters, Monroe started at the bottom. She helped to clean the mews and learned to cut up mice to feed to injured birds long before she learned first aid. It is work that is not for the squeamish or faint of heart.

"After the first time, you don't think about what you are feeding the birds. There is so much work to do."

With as many as 80 birds in care at any one time, just the maintenance on the 5-acre property takes time. Elliott says that he has documented more than 12,000 donated volunteer hours a year. He has a staff of six but couldn't function without the extra hands. He is amazed by the human connection that the center generates.

"That's the one thing I didn't count on, but the commitment of people is amazing. I've had volunteers out here on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day doing their work. If someone can't make a shift, they find someone else with the same training to fill in."

Elliott makes it clear that the current center is a working establishment that is not designed for beauty.

"This isn't a public center. If you were at a restaurant, you would be looking at the kitchen. We don't allow the public here because we don't want to stress the recovering birds."

But by next year, the public will be invited to watch raptors in the captive breeding program as the new International Center for Birds of Prey opens to the public. The new center will have four missions: education with demonstrations, medical treatment, rehabilitation and research.

Businessman Joseph Rice donated a 152-acre tract between Mount Pleasant and Awendaw for the international center and in December, about 250 feathered residents will move from Gloucestershire, England, to South Carolina. Jemima Parry-Jones is bringing 60 different species from her captive-breeding program as she closes the National Birds of Prey Centre and combines her program with the S.C. Center for Birds of Prey. Elliott still is trying to figure out who can help crate, transport and deliver so many large birds safely.

"There has never been such a collection of birds moved before, but I think we can do it safely. It will be risky for some of the birds. I keep thinking about how the military moved Keiko, a 20- year-old orca, to Iceland. I know we can do it."

Plans call for a science/education/conservation building that will feature interpretive displays, classrooms, laboratories and other venues for programs. The Avian Medical Center will be in a separate area and will offer state-of-the-art medical care. Parry- Jones will continue her captive-breeding program because it is a tool to learn how to save species in the wild. Currently, the center in England has about 40,000 visitors a year, and Elliott is hopeful that the new center will equal that number.

The work has acquired international support with Princess Anne of Great Britain as a royal patron. Princess Anne visited Georgetown in April to help raise money for the new center. Elliott says he always is surprised where support comes from, and he and Parry-Jones still are raising money for the new facility.

"When we were looking for property for the new center, I kept putting down a zero in the accounting cost for the land. One of my board members told me that I should fill that in so costs could be calculated. I kept telling him, 'No, something will happen.' And it did.

"People love the birds of prey, and they are always supporting us in ways that surprise me -- like Mary Alice and her book."

Monroe in "Skyward" has done her part.

Not only does she give nature information about different species as the openers for each chapter, she includes the center's mailing address and that of the Nature Conservancy at the back.

"People love wildlife, but they grow up isolated in cities. They just don't have much experience with nature the way our grandfathers did," she says.

Stephanie Harvin writes features. Contact her at 937-5701 or sharvin@postandcourier.com.