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

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Tyrannosaurus Sue-- The Extraordinary Saga of the Largest, Most Fought Over T. Rex Ever Found Page 34

by Steve Fiffer


  local, regional, or national," he says.

  James Abruzzo, managing director of the Nonprofit Practice G r o u p

  at the consulting firm A. T. Kearney agrees. "The downside [for a m u s e -

  u m ] is if you compromise your scientific mission," he says. "But the fact

  that you apply commercial aspects to your operation is not mutually

  exclusive. The slippery or oily slope is if your sponsor, say Exxon, is

  involved in a spill and you are an institution that says, 'Let's downplay

  it.'" That is not the case with Sue, he says.

  That is not to say that there aren't tangible advantages to the sponsors.

  By aligning themselves with the Field Museum, McDonald's and Disney

  "coopted or purchased a credibilty that is very important," Abruzzo says.

  "They've involved themselves with a very popular finding, and they

  haven't done it by robbing the graves of Egypt." With credibility at stake,

  "To commercialize this would cheapen the investment," he adds. "This is

  brand [enhancement]. If it was marketing, they'd be selling Happy Meals."

  Abruzzo notes that McDonald's and Disney aren't the only brands

  benefiting from the partnership. "The advertising budget for McDonald's

  far overwhelms the museum's advertising budget. McDonald's will spend

  more than the Field could ever spend, so it helps build the Field brand,

  too," he says.

  By the fall of 1999, the m u s e u m had picked a date for the unveiling and

  had planned a week-long celebration to introduce Sue to the world. In

  2 2 8 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  November, the Field's public relations d e p a r t m e n t sent out an ambi-

  tious press kit complete with this schedule, "facts and fun" about Sue, a

  description of the exhibit, a discussion of the fossil's scientific impor-

  tance, a n d the plans of the corporate sponsors. The cover of the kit fea-

  tured a full-size p h o t o g r a p h of the T. rex's gaping jaws. The caption

  read: "She's been waiting for you for 67 million years." O p e n i n g the kit,

  o n e came face to face with a cardboard p o p - o u t of Sue's choppers. The

  main press release began:

  On May 17, 2000, Sue takes the throne, presiding over her king-

  d o m . . . . Male or female, king or queen, no o n e can be sure. But

  of one thing there is no question: Sue rules!

  You may approach her majesty. Walk a r o u n d her—slowly.

  Examine the bird-like feet, the massive legs and pelvis, the sur-

  prisingly graceful tail. Stare into her bottomless eye sockets, her

  razor-sharp teeth a n d powerful jaws.

  This is the real thing. Not a plastic m o d e l or a plaster cast.

  Not a patchwork of composite bones from different specimens.

  These are the fossilized bones of the single largest, most com-

  plete, a n d best preserved T. rex fossil yet discovered.

  At a time when m a n y m u s e u m s are displaying replicas of

  dinosaur skeletons, the Field M u s e u m has strengthened its

  c o m m i t m e n t to authenticity. This is Sue.

  T h e m u s e u m h a d chosen May 17 in part because it was a

  Wednesday—the one day of the week w h e n there is no admission

  charge. "We will throw open the doors at nine o'clock and let everyone

  in to see her," Louis said before the big day. Even earlier, however, the

  formal unveiling would take place during an invitation-only ceremony

  that would include specially selected schoolchildren. Sue would be the

  main attraction in Stanley Field Hall. In taking this white-marbled ter-

  ritory, the T. rex claimed another victim. The Riggs brachiosaurus was

  moved to the United Airlines terminal in Chicago's O'Hare Airport.

  T h e curtain would literally be lifted from Sue shortly after 6:00 AM.

  Louis explained that the media had expressed great interest in Sue's

  debut. T h e early time would allow the m o r n i n g news shows to cover the

  event live.

  Y O U M A Y A P P R O A C H H E R M A J E S T Y 2 2 9

  While Sue would forever be the star of the exhibition, she had a for-

  midable supporting cast—literally. On the second-floor balcony, visi-

  tors would be able to touch casts of selected bones. Nearby, they could

  view some of the animated CT images Brochu studied and take a virtu-

  al journey inside the T. rex's head. Video clips would recap the story of

  Sue from discovery to arrival at the m u s e u m , and a time-lapse video

  would show the m o u n t i n g of the skeleton. (Installation of the skeleton

  began two m o n t h s before the unveiling. Securing the mounting's base

  to the museum's infrastructure was a complicated procedure.)

  Around the corner from the skull a n d these exhibits, visitors could

  watch the cleaning of other fossils at the McDonald's prep lab and view

  additional exhibits on the science of Sue. These would include an ani-

  mated video explaining how and why the views of T. rex continue to

  evolve. In addition, Sue's gastralia (belly ribs), which were still being

  studied and had yet to be attached, could be examined.

  The m u s e u m planned a family night for Friday, May 19. T h e high-

  light? A screening of the new computer-animated movie Dinosaurs. Not

  surprisingly, the movie was produced by Disney. Bakker, w h o saw early

  footage of the movie, proclaimed the animation superb.

  The celebration was to conclude over the weekend with two world

  premieres (in addition to the unveiling): a theater piece written about

  both Sue the T. rex a n d Sue Hendrickson and a musical work, the

  Cretaceous Concerto, written by Bruce Adolphe of the C h a m b e r Music

  Society of Lincoln Center and performed by the Chicago C h a m b e r

  Musicians.

  Hendrickson would be there, although she confessed that discover-

  ing the dinosaur has been a bittersweet experience: "I'm glad she was

  found, but I wish someone else had found her." The seizure, the crimi-

  nal investigation, the trial, and Peter Larson's sentencing had a profound

  impact on her. "It shattered my faith in the United States government,"

  she said.

  After living u n d e r the stars, in tents, in motels, on barges, a n d ships

  for her adult life, Hendrickson finally decided to build a h o m e in 1997.

  She was so disillusioned with America that she chose a site on an isolat-

  ed H o n d u r a n island. There she planned to live quietly w h e n not diving

  in Egypt and the Philippines or procuring a m b e r in Mexico and the

  Dominican Republic, or looking for dinosaurs in the badlands.

  2 3 0 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  Hendrickson was finishing a dive in Alexandria when Hurricane

  Mitch struck H o n d u r a s in October 1998. She hurried h o m e to find her

  new house damaged but standing—and scores of less fortunate neigh-

  bors living u n d e r her roof, or what was left of the roof. She immediate-

  ly joined in efforts to save flora a n d fauna and contributed a consider-

  able a m o u n t of m o n e y to the relief effort.

  The house contains few of Hendrickson's discoveries. She is m u c h

  m o r e attached to the photographs of the places she has been and the

  people w h o m she has met and worked with. "I'm not a collector," she

  explains. "For me the reward
comes in the m o m e n t of finding, not pos-

  sessing."

  Married once, n o w single, she lives with and is accompanied every-

  where by her golden retriever Skywalker. Although she has never had

  children, she has become close with youngsters in all the places in which

  she has traveled and has set up university scholarships for several in the

  Dominican Republic and H o n d u r a s .

  Hendrickson confesses that she is torn between settling down and

  pursuing other dreams. She has survived cervical cancer diagnosed in 1990

  but has a disabling vascular problem and infection in her left leg. "I'm feel-

  ing old," she says. "But there are still a lot of things I'd like to find."

  Her wish list includes a Siberian m a m m o t h . If she finds one, she'd

  like to display it in a giant block of ice that m u s e u m visitors could

  touch. "It's hard to design an exhibit that will make someone walk into

  a m u s e u m and go, 'Wow!'" she says. "But if they don't, they are going to

  be bored and not read about it and learn. If you can stir children to want

  to learn anything, you're improving society. Maybe that's why Sue was

  calling me. So I could c o m e get her and we could make kids say, 'Wow!'"

  Another dinosaur hunter, Keith Rigby, hoped to be "in the field,"

  not at the Field, when Sue was unveiled. He still had unfinished business

  in M o n t a n a . The dinosaur he found may be as complete as Sue and even

  larger, he said. He planned to supervise preparation and lead more

  expeditions.

  Little has changed in the field since the auction, Rigby said. He knew

  of three m o r e cases in which fossil thieves had robbed dinosaur excava-

  tion sites. "They k n o w o u r license n u m b e r s . They follow us. And when

  we're gone, they come in a n d steal," he lamented. "There is n o w an

  incredible black market fueled by theft of fossils from public land. [The

  Y O U M A Y A P P R O A C H H E R M A J E S T Y 2 3 1

  auction] was good for Sue, but it was the death knell for paleontology

  as we k n o w it."

  Vince Santucci, w h o investigated the Black Hills Institute in the

  mid-1980s, hoped to see Sue after the unveiling. The ranger was not as

  pessimistic as Rigby. Although he had observed that private landowners

  had started charging collecting fees, he thought that the prosecution of

  the Larsons had deterred commercial collectors from stealing from p u b -

  lic lands, "or at least it's driven t h e m underground," he said. He noted,

  however, that after a steady decline for several years, fossil crime did

  increase in 1999.

  Bob Bakker isn't willing to sound the death knell for paleontology. If

  there was a black market and if private landowners were charging exor-

  bitant collecting fees, "it's a temporary aberration," he says. Dinosaurs are

  still being found on private land, he notes. He points to the exciting dis-

  covery in Belle Fourche, South Dakota, of a virtually fully complete T. rex

  juvenile by a team from Houston in 1998. Recent expeditions abroad by

  the University of Chicago's Sereno, the Field Museum's Flynn, and Rigby

  himself have also unearthed remarkable specimens. Bakker also notes

  that Nuss and Detrich were unable to sell their Z. rex. "I heard they even

  put it up on eBay for a while," he says.

  Bakker is less concerned about continuing to find fossils than he is

  about continued efforts to crack d o w n on legitimate collectors. "We

  should worry about the odious behavior of small-minded PhDs and

  even smaller-minded government officials," he warns. He cites a recent

  case in which the government prosecuted a lifelong collector of prehis-

  toric turtle fragments. The collector was charged with stealing h u n d r e d s

  of thousands of dollars worth of fossils. At the trial an independent

  expert testified that, in reality, the bones were worth less than $1000.

  The judge put the collector on probation instead of sending h i m to jail,

  as the government wished.

  As the unveiling approached, Bakker, Peter Larson, and others were

  battling those they considered small-minded on another front. The

  BLM was considering regulations that would severely restrict c o m m e r -

  cial collectors and amateurs. In the interim, no o n e — n o t even acade-

  mics—had access to certain lands. Bakker m u s e d that maybe the BLM

  should be prosecuted for the destruction of fossils, since m a n y speci-

  mens were eroding away.

  2 3 2 TYRANNOSAURUS S U E

  Patrick Duffy shares Bakker's feelings about the government. The

  lawyer, w h o left the firm with which he was affiliated and has his own

  practice in Rapid City now, says, "The government was never able to

  create a uniform system of laws to cover [fossil c o l l e c t i n g ] . . . . It's dan-

  gerous when, if we can't make consensus in Congress, we go down the

  street to the J. Edgar Hoover Building and try and make consensus."

  Duffy notes that the action against the institute sent some defen-

  dants and their families into therapy. Marriages broke up. O n e person

  attempted suicide. "The government spent millions of dollars and

  ruined lives when no fundamental right was at issue. Lives were ruined

  and other than the T. rex, which was not the subject of criminal charges,

  we are talking about shards of b o n e here. That's not worth happening."

  C o n t r a r y to the predictions of his critics, Duffy's nemesis Kevin

  Schieffer has yet to seek a judgeship or r u n for office. Instead, he serves

  as CEO of the South Dakota-based Dakota, Minnesota, and Eastern

  Railroad. Schieffer worries about a different kind of fallout from the

  case: "The tragedy from the global standpoint, once you get past these

  two individuals [Larson and Williams], is this: W h e n you have a conflict

  between science and dollars, even if it would be in the best interest of

  science, the dollars seem to prevail."

  At least one of those two individuals, Maurice Williams, was happy

  to let the dollars prevail. "I didn't really care where [Sue] went," he said.

  "Just to the highest bidder."

  Almost nine years to the day that Sue was found, Williams was back

  in court on T. rex-related business. T h e August 4, 1999, Rapid City

  Journal reported that a local lawyer was suing the rancher for $836,000,

  or 10 percent of what the fossil brought at auction. Attorney Mario

  Gonzales claimed that beginning in November 1990—when Williams

  wrote his first letter to the institute claiming ownership of the b o n e s —

  he provided "advice, expertise, a n d assistance" to Williams "in every

  aspect of his efforts to recover, market, or sell the fossil." Reporter Hugh

  O'Gara noted that Williams was countersuing the attorney for m o n e y

  he claimed he loaned h i m to pay off a debt to the Internal Revenue

  Service.

  W h e n McCarter talked to Williams about buying Sue before the

  auction, the rancher said he t h o u g h t he had m o r e bones on his land and

  suggested that the Field M u s e u m take a look. But the m u s e u m and the

  Y O U M A Y A P P R O A C H H E R M A J E S T Y 2 3 3

  rancher could not agree on the terms for exploring
the property. At

  Sotheby's, Williams also m e n t i o n e d the bones to H e n r y Galiano, the

  auction's paleontology consultant, and invited h i m to visit.

  Why? "After all, I did help h i m earn $7.6 million dollars," laughs

  Galiano.

  Galiano accepted Williams's invitation. "I went there with two

  friends," he says. "We were just poking a r o u n d and we found bones

  sticking out of the same producing horizon as Sue. Maurice said, 'Take

  em.

  Galiano brought the bones back to New York. N o n e of the scientists

  to w h o m he showed t h e m could identify them. "We think we may have

  found a new genus of the dinosaur Pachycephalosaurus ("thick-headed

  lizard")," Galiano says. On a subsequent trip, Galiano found m o r e of

  this dinosaur's bones, including part of the skull. "The skeleton is there,"

  he says.

  Galiano has a "handshake agreement" with Williams. "The fossil is

  not mine. It's Maurice's. He's the luckiest guy in the world. He wants to

  sell it. Here we go again, huh?"

  E P I L O G U E

  Eight years to the day after he lost her, he would climb into his car a n d

  make the same drive he m a d e when she was in her machine shop

  prison. This time there would be no reason to stop at the School of

  Mines. He would go to the Rapid City airport and get on a plane to

  Chicago so he could see her once again.

  W h e n he saw her in 1997, she was, to his surprise, "just a pile of

  bones." Just out of his own prison, he was not himself then, either. He

  knew who he was now.

  In November 1998 he had gone to Washington, D.C., a n d installed

  a cast of his second favorite T. rex, Stan, in the dinosaur hall at the

  Smithsonian Museum. Two weeks later he was back in the hall. Along

  with Bob Bakker and Phil Currie, he was one of only a half dozen pale-

  ontologists invited by the m u s e u m to a gala $2500-a-plate dinner kick-

  ing off an effort to raise funds for redoing the hall. He had stood u n d e r

  Stan and talked about dinosaurs with some of the most i m p o r t a n t peo-

  ple in his nation's capital. He had felt h o n o r e d to be there. He couldn't

  help but be struck by how strange it was that the S m i t h s o n i a n — o u r

  national m u s e u m , part of the federal government—viewed h i m so dif-

 

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