Tyrannosaurus Sue-- The Extraordinary Saga of the Largest, Most Fought Over T. Rex Ever Found

by Steve Fiffer

  objects of antiquity by m a n d a t i n g that their excavation be 'for the ben-

  efit of . . . recognized scientific or educational institutions, with a view

  5 8 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  to increasing knowledge of such objects, and . . . for p e r m a n e n t preser-

  vation in public places.'"

  Did a fossil qualify as "land" held in trust? Or was a fossil an "object

  of antiquity?" Apparently Schieffer wanted the courts to sort this out.

  When? Schieffer said he didn't expect any arrests soon, reported the

  Journal. But he added: "This isn't exactly jaywalking. This is a priceless

  antiquity."

  As Schieffer spoke, the FBI continued its search of institute files.

  "They took everything," Larson says. "Even the letters I had written to

  schoolchildren."

  Meanwhile, the crew from the School of Mines was rewrapping Sue

  in plaster jackets similar to those she had w o r n 21 m o n t h s earlier.

  Larson and Wentz received permission to continue preparing Sue's skull

  so that it could be safely loaded for its trip to its "holding cell" at the

  School of Mines. (The pair would later speculate that Schieffer waited

  to send in the FBI until Ranger Robins reported that work on the skull

  was almost done; otherwise it could not have been hauled away.)

  At the time of the raid, Larson was hosting a friend from Canada.

  Leon Kinsbergen, originally from Holland, was a Holocaust survivor

  w h o had lost his wife and children in the concentration camps. "He was

  terribly upset during the seizure [of Sue]," says Larson. "I tried to com-

  fort h i m by explaining, 'Don't worry, Leon. This is America.' Leon

  replied, 'That is what makes it so terrible. I can't believe this is h a p p e n -

  ing in America.'"

  Neither could the people of Hill City. Over the next three days, as

  Sue was loaded into boxes, hoisted onto flatbed trailers, and hauled

  away by the National Guard, 200 men, w o m e n , and children joined in

  protest outside the institute. Their h o m e m a d e signs reflected their feel-

  ings. " W H A M , BAM, T H A N K S UNCLE SAM." "SHAME ON YOU."

  "FBI IS U.S. GESTAPO."

  By the time the last government truck carrying Sue was loaded,

  Larson and his fellow workers were in tears. So, too, were some sympa-

  thetic m e m b e r s of the National Guard. Larson noted that it had taken

  17 days to dig Sue from the cliff, thousands of h o u r s had been invested

  in her preparation, a n d countless m o r e h o u r s had been spent thinking

  about every aspect of her care. And then: "They packed, loaded, and

  moved the finest dinosaur ever found in three days."

  Y O U B E T T E R G E T O U T H E R E , P E T E 5 9

  Larson did m o r e than wring his hands during those three days.

  Besides working with Wentz to prepare Sue's skull for removal, he

  worked with Mayor Vitter and tribal chairman Bourland to broker a deal

  that might quickly resolve the matter. On Friday, May 15, day two of the

  seizure, the three m e n met in Hill City. "A c o m m o n concern that the fos-

  sil might be put in a place of the federal government's choosing helped

  bring us together," Bourland told the press after the meeting. "Let's not

  turn this into a fight between the U.S. government a n d Hill City and the

  Cheyenne River Sioux tribe. Sue's big enough for everybody."

  Perhaps. But Schieffer seemed to be holding all the cards, er, bones.

  He called the meeting a positive step b u t reasserted that he had no

  doubts that Sue was the property of the federal government. "My pri-

  mary directive u n d e r the Antiquities Act is to bring these [objects] back

  under the public domain," he said.

  By the time Larson, Bourland, a n d Vitter met for a second time in

  Rapid City on May 20, everyone from politicians to physicists to pale-

  ontologists had weighed in on the matter. South Dakota U.S. Senator

  Tom Daschle scheduled a town meeting in Hill City for May 25.

  Marshall Center physicist Ron Beshears, w h o was to have supervised the

  CAT scan in Huntsville, expressed disappointment. "We look at a lot of

  rocket nozzles, and a lot of hardware components," he said. "This [Sue]

  is an interesting project. We sure h o p e they will get this thing settled."

  Meanwhile, Currie, Bakker, and H o r n e r publicly expressed anger

  over the government's action. "I'm reminded of the last scene in Raiders

  of the Lost Ark, in which the U.S. government, having seized the Ark of

  the Covenant, locks it away in a forgotten warehouse," said Bakker.

  Horner agreed. The seizure was "absolutely ridiculous," he told The

  New York Times. He explained that federal officials could have left Sue

  where she was until the legal dispute was resolved. "Who's going to walk

  off with a tyrannosaur?" he asked.

  Prosecutor Mandel had a different take. "There's nothing unusual

  about seizing evidence that is the subject of a criminal investigation," he

  would say later. "It's not o u r way to trust putative defendants to take

  care of evidence for us."

  Schieffer says other options were considered. "We struggled with it.

  The only other thing we could d o — w h i c h might have been better from

  a public relations s t a n d p o i n t — w o u l d have been patently unfair [to the

  6 0 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  institute] if we were wrong—lock the doors of the business. In retro-

  spect that might have been m o r e media savvy, but we do things by the

  b o o k instead of the camera."

  In the same front-page article in which H o r n e r was quoted, the

  Times's science reporter Malcolm Browne touched on an issue that

  would grow in i m p o r t a n c e over the coming m o n t h s : the conflict

  between commercial fossil hunters like the Larsons and the academic

  community. Some scientists associated with universities or m u s e u m s

  resented the commercial hunters, arguing that they had no qualms

  about selling i m p o r t a n t fossils to private collectors, thereby removing

  t h e m from the realm of scientific study.

  Did the Larsons fit this profile? "Many p r o m i n e n t paleontologists

  say the Black Hills institute takes great care to preserve scientific assets

  and make t h e m available to scholars," wrote Browne. Bakker was one of

  these paleontologists. He admitted that his original inclination was to

  l u m p the Larsons with the bad guys. "I thought, O h , these guys are just

  ripping out bones and selling t h e m to Japan," he said. "Then I saw their

  lab." He told Browne that the Larsons weren't only fossil hunters, they

  were "scientists . . . w h o kept meticulous scientific records of their

  finds."

  T h e Times wasn't the only media giant to find the seizure newswor-

  thy. Newsweek, the Wall Street Journal, a n d The Times of London also

  carried feature articles, and NBC's Today Show did a segment from Hill

  City that included footage of local seventh graders presenting Larson

  with $47.50 for "Sue's Freedom Fund."

  By this time the protest had extended to Rapid City. On Monday,

  May 18, about 30 people marched outside the federal building that

  housed the U.S. attorney's office. " G - M E N
CATCH CRIMINALS N O T

  DINOSAURS," read one sign.

  On the previous day the Rapid City Journal's editorial page had fea-

  tured a large political cartoon of a " G - m a n " dressed as a caveman and

  carrying a club that read "FBI." This figure stood outside a building

  identified as the institute. "He says he's here to see 'Sue,'" said another

  figure, w h o was poking his head out from inside the institute.

  Three days later, on May 20, the Journal ran an editorial highly crit-

  ical of Schieffer's actions. Titled, "Was an Army Necessary?" it read in

  part:

  Y O U B E T T E R G E T O U T H E R E , P E T E 6 1

  . . . Poor Sue. It all seems so unnecessary. Instead of being

  allowed to remain at the institute, where trained and experi-

  enced workers could care for her and where she eventually

  would be shared with the public a n d with inquiring scientific

  minds, she has been exposed to potentially damaging transport

  and has been boxed, sealed, and put in s t o r a g e . . . .

  It appears doubtful that Schieffer's heavy-handed action

  was required to resolve Sue's fate. T h e parties involved—with

  the possible exception of Schieffer—are willing to . . . attempt

  to work out an agreement.

  It seems entirely possible that a plan can be developed to

  ensure that Sue is on public display, that she is available for sci-

  ence to learn as m u c h as possible about her and her species, and

  that she doesn't become some entrepreneur's cash cow. And per-

  haps Hill City can have its m u s e u m , and the tribe can benefit.

  Accomplishing those goals is possible. And it very likely was

  possible without a r m e d government intervention.

  When Peter Larson left Hill City later that m o r n i n g for his meeting

  with Mayor Vitter a n d tribal chairman Bourland, he agreed with the

  Journal that a plan was indeed possible. After the FBI had left, some

  townspeople had taken scissors to the police tape that h a d s u r r o u n d e d

  the institute. Driving d o w n Main Street, Larson passed a row of utility

  poles wrapped in yellow ribbon. Perhaps those ribbons would soon be

  down and Sue would be back where she belonged, he hoped.

  At the first meeting, Bourland had voiced the tribe's desire for a cast

  of Sue for display on the reservation in Eagle Butte. Like the Larsons, he

  envisioned Sue as the centerpiece for a larger facility—one that, in the

  tribe's case, would include materials gathered during the Black Hills

  land claims of the 1800s. Those materials were currently in a vault in

  Sioux Falls because there was no m o n e y to catalog and display them.

  Presumably, the cast of Sue would draw tourists to the reservation. "It

  would only be right that there's a cast of Sue at Eagle Butte," Larson had

  said on May 15. As Eagle Butte was 200 miles from Hill City, the Sioux's

  Sue and the institute's Sue would not be in direct competition.

  Although the tribe and the institute appeared to be heading toward

  an agreement, they were forgetting (or ignoring) o n e very i m p o r t a n t

  6 2 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  fact. Schieffer had said that neither of t h e m owned Sue. So how could

  they make an arrangement to determine the fossil's future?

  In an interview with USA Today published on May 20, Schieffer

  himself seemed to suggest that such an arrangement might be possible,

  and he outlined the conditions. These conditions appeared consistent

  with Larson's intentions from the day he had a n n o u n c e d the discovery

  of Sue. Said Schieffer: "The institute m u s t guarantee that [the fossil] will

  be displayed permanently in a public m u s e u m and would not be sold or

  traded out of the c o u n t r y or into a private collection."

  T h e meeting later that day between Bourland, Larson, and a delega-

  tion from Hill City including Mayor Vitter lasted four hours. The par-

  ticipants did not immediately reveal the substance of the discussion to

  the public. Later, however, Bourland told the Journal's Bill Harlan that

  the tribe had proposed that Sue be displayed in a new m u s e u m in Hill

  City. In return, ownership of the T. rex would be transferred to the

  Sioux. T h e tribe would then give Hill City a 99-year lease on the

  dinosaur and would help Hill City build the m u s e u m . Some Indian arti-

  facts might also be displayed there. The tribe would share in some of the

  museum's revenues.

  Larson told Harlan that he had rejected the proposal. The institute

  still claimed ownership, he explained. Despite their inability to reach an

  understanding, the parties agreed to meet again, this time in Eagle Butte.

  That meeting never took place. On May 2 1 , o n e day after the Rapid

  City talks, Bourland a n n o u n c e d that there would be no m o r e negotia-

  tions. He claimed that Larson had violated a "gentlemen's agreement" by

  issuing a press release earlier in the day. In the release, the institute had

  said that it was "accepting the terms set forth yesterday by U.S. Attorney

  Kevin Schieffer . . . in USA Today"

  Bourland interpreted this as an attempt to cut a deal with the gov-

  e r n m e n t behind the tribe's back. He added that Schieffer had termed the

  press release a "cruel hoax" and had told h i m that he had rejected the

  institute's offer.

  Duffy said that he had talked to Schieffer after the article had

  appeared and that the prosecutor had neither accepted n o r rejected the

  proposal. He added that nothing in the press release violated the "gen-

  tlemen's agreement," whose purpose was to keep tribe-institute negoti-

  ations confidential.

  Y O U B E T T E R G E T O U T H E R E , P E T E 6 3

  Larson tried to strike a conciliatory note. "Boy, I'm really sorry

  they're mad at us," he said. "This was not d o n e to insult the tribe, a n d if

  it did, I apologize."

  The institute's attempt to deal directly with Schieffer may have

  lacked tact, but it did make sense from a tactical point of view. For the

  m o m e n t anyway, Schieffer had the fossil and the power to decide what

  should be done with it. In the USA Today article, he had appeared to

  publicly address the institute, explaining what they had to do to get Sue

  back. The institute's press release was an attempt to let Schieffer know,

  publicly, that they were willing to do what he wanted.

  But the institute's promise to p u t Sue in a m u s e u m and never sell

  her out of the c o u n t r y or to a private collector was not enough to per-

  suade the U.S. attorney to return the fossil or to d r o p his investigation.

  Ownership of the fossil may have been the subject of debate at that

  point, acknowledges Schieffer. Federal laws could be interpreted to sug-

  gest that the tribe and Maurice Williams had legitimate claims to Sue.

  But, Schieffer adds, it was clear to the government from the beginning

  that the institute had no claim to the bones. (This doesn't explain, how-

  ever, why he suggested a possible solution to USA Today involving the

  institute.)

  Dropping the investigation was not a possibility either. "The media

  never grasped that the criminal investigation h
ad precious little to do

  with Sue," he says. Before Sue had even been discovered, the U.S. attor-

  ney's office was looking into allegations that the institute stole fossils

  from public lands. T h e Sioux's complaint about the theft of the

  dinosaur just happened to coincide with that inquiry.

  Once they realized that Schieffer was not going to return Sue vol-

  untarily, Larson and Duffy weighed all their options. In doing so, they

  recognized that although Sue had lain undisturbed for 67 million years,

  time was now of the essence.

  Sue was being stored inside a 40-foot steel tank in a machine shop

  next to a boiler r o o m at the School of Mines and Technology. Larson

  worried that the bones would be irreparably damaged if they sat there

  much longer. Temperature variations in the r o o m could lead the bones

  to expand and contract and eventually split. And such variations were

  inevitable; the shop was not air-conditioned. T h e fossil faced another

  danger, according to Larson. Sue had pyrite in her bones. Pyrite is iron

  6 4 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  sulfide, an inherently unstable material that decomposes. W h e n iron

  sulfide combines with water from the air, sulfuric acid is created, which

  slowly dissolves bone. As the b o n e and pyrite dissolve, calcium sulfate is

  created. Calcium sulfate is in gypsum, a fast-growing mineral that

  would actually push the b o n e fragments apart. Temperature variations

  like those in the machine shop would accelerate the process.

  H o w could the splitting and dissolving and fragmenting be pre-

  vented? By spreading out the bones so that they could be watched,

  Larson believed. By controlling the temperature so that it did not vary

  m o r e than a degree or two each day. By continuing to clean, prepare,

  a n d glue the bones so that fractures and cracks could be addressed as

  they occurred. In short, by returning Sue to the controlled conditions

  and experienced preparators at the institute.

  On May 22, eight days after the raid, Duffy went to court. The head-

  line in the Journal was an editor's dream: "Institute to Sue for Sue."

  Tyrannosaurus rex had become Tyrannosaurus lex.

  4

  T A K I N G A H O W I T Z E R TO A FLY

  "One million five hundred thousand," said Redden.

  Stan Adelstein had raised his paddle to make the bid,