In 1971, George Archibald and Ron Sauey met at Cornell University where they were graduate students studying crane behavior. The coming together of these two remarkable young men changed the future for cranes around the planet.
Two years after they became acquainted, Archibald and Sauey took action to save the birds. Aware that the world's human population growth and its cranes were on a collision course, they established the International Crane Foundation on a Wisconsin horse farm owned by Sauey's parents.
From the beginning, the goal was to work worldwide to conserve cranes and the ecosystems upon which they depend, as well as to educate people about these magnificent birds, their requirements and the threats they face.
By 1983, the ICF had outgrown its home and moved a few miles away to its current 225-acre site. Sadly, Sauey died in 1987. But Archibald persevered, carrying on the work he had begun with his friend.
The results are nothing short of astonishing.
Of 15 crane species worldwide, nine are endangered or threatened. Many either occur in, or migrate through, densely populated or politically unstable regions. Moreover, Archibald and Sauey began during the Cold War, which meant their efforts took them to places where they undoubtedly encountered unfriendly or suspicious individuals. They traveled to Russia, China, Africa and the Middle East seeking governmental and private partnerships to establish crane refuges and reserves. Their successes have aided birds that people around the globe honor and revere.
The heart of the International Crane Foundation is its Baraboo home, where 100 acres of restored savanna, prairie and wetlands are laced with trails open to the public. These habitats serve as examples not just for the general public, but also for visiting scientists.
My husband and I stopped at the ICF in June when we were traveling through Wisconsin. We arrived 20 minutes before the gates opened and watched a pair of gray catbirds dive into a dense shrub. A Baltimore oriole sang from a nearby oak. Clearly, ICF is a haven for more than cranes. We'd been there only a few minutes when Korie Klink, ICF education specialist, saw us, let us in and gave us a guided tour.
It was immediately apparent that much has changed since our last visit more than two decades ago. We walked with Korie around the Johnson Exhibit Pod, where there are more crane species than at any other facility in the world. A male red-crowned crane rushed to the fence, dropped his neck in a threatening posture and uttered a guttural "growl" to warn us off.
Korie explained that the cranes in the pod are accustomed to humans, but they retain their territorial inclinations.
The prairie restoration, the trail system and the Amoco Whooping Crane Exhibit were all new to us.
Since my husband and I are creating our own prairie system on our property, it was wonderful to see what it might look like several years down the road. Scattered through the grasses were drifts of native wildflowers, many in bloom. Our favorite place was the Whooping Crane Exhibit, where an acre of prairie and wetland habitat replicates the species' requirements.
We were astonished to learn that the two whooping cranes living inside are able to take the majority of their food from this relatively small area. While some of their food (like ground squirrels) no doubt comes through the fence from outside the enclosure, the fact that this pair of cranes satisfy so much of their nutritional needs from an acre attests to the richness of a healthy habitat filled with native plants.
If you haven't visited the ICF, make it a point to do so. And when you do, think of the power of one passionate man, George Archibald. His work demonstrates that we can all make a difference for the wildlife about which we all care.
For more information, go to www.savingcranes.org.
Kay Charter, of Omena, is executive director of Saving Birds Thru Habitat, an organization that teaches people how to help migrating birds whose populations are declining.






