Glassboro Woods: a buzzy summer birding experience

This is a somewhat tough time of year for birders. The birds have gone quiet, for the most part, after putting on their best plumage and singing their hearts out to find the loves of their lives (or at least the season). Many are getting their young to fledge so they can start their second brood, so while you might see some nice young 'uns, Moms and Dads are primarily too busy to make themselves known to humans.

Add to that our recent bouts of 90+ degree heat, and you can see the dilemma. For Ivan it's become less a matter of finding numbers of birds than it is the hunt to spot particular species. A couple of recent out-of-state trips scored a lot of sightings he wouldn't normally have gotten so early in the year, leaving a few stragglers yet to be found. Those birds tend to hang out in places best avoided in the heat of summer.

I knew we were tempting fate when I agreed to his suggestion that we head to Gloucester County and Glassboro Wildlife Management Area. The Guide to Bird Finding in New Jersey suggests it's a premier place to spot the Kentucky, hooded and pine warblers that remained on Ivan's 'wanted' list for 2012, so off we went. Never mind the fact that my internal radar always steers me away from tromping around the Pinelands in mid-summer, lest I be consumed by mosquitoes and green headed flies. Other than one really poorly advised trip to Bivalve a few years ago, I tend to avoid most moist natural spots south of Trenton and west of the Parkway during July and August. They're just too buggy. Glassboro Woods is pretty much the textbook example of deciduous wetland.

We left home base early enough to get us to Glassboro by about 7:30 a.m. The WMA entrance isn't marked by signs; rather you have to find the proper sandy dirt road and drive down a piece, until you reach a pipe gate blocking further transit. Once we got there, we parked in a small clearing to the side of the road, doused ourselves in bug repellent and aimed a few prayers upward for mercy.

The greenheads started circling almost immediately after we left the car, but the sight ahead of us on the broad path immediately distracted me from the pests. Early-morning sunlight streamed through the forest canopy, looking very much like an inspirational poster. We weren't hearing too much bird activity, but perhaps it was farther in.

We continued walking along the wide path, happy not to have to worry about brushing against possibly tick-infested underbrush. The previous night's rainstorm had left the road damp and pocked with puddles in places, but for the most part it was very amenable. When we reached an intersection with another path, we made the turn.

Again, it wasn't all that noisy, but we ran into a white-eyed vireo and eventually a towhee, both singing for attention. A power line cut didn't offer much in the way of spotting -- if memory serves, it was downright quiet.

Perhaps we weren't seeing many birds, but the puddles seemed to be making up for it with frogs. A few surprised us by popping up just before we stepped over some water-filled potholes. Even more amusing, very young ones, barely bigger than my thumbnail, quickly made their way across the path with some impressively long hops. I almost wanted to pick one or two up, they were so cute, but I resisted, letting them continue on their way undisturbed.

After a couple of hours of largely unsuccessful bird wandering, we turned back toward the car. When we got to our original turnoff spot, though, Ivan suggested we check out the area we would have seen earlier, had we not made the detour. Can't hurt, right?

A quarter-mile walk brought us to a relatively open area of mostly underbrush with some trees toward the back, but we heard it before we actually saw it. This is where the birds were hanging out, with several obvious youngsters sharpening their flying skills under their parents' watchful eyes. A beautiful pair of cedar waxwings perched in a dead tree in the distance, and we finally saw the sought-after pine warbler. That one went on my life list and Ivan's 2012 tally, making the buzzing, pesky greenheads tolerable.

Sometimes that extra effort means all the difference. When we're having a less than productive birding day, we'll dedicate another five minutes in an area we haven't explored, even after we've decided nothing will come of it. Those always seem to be the times we see something really spectacular, or something we hadn't expected. Nature is like that, I guess: always offering up something when you don't expect it.

US-Soviet relations defrost at Glassboro

New Jersey's prime location has made it a central rendezvous point since colonial times. People and goods move through the state to New York, Philadelphia, Washington and beyond, aided first by Route 1 and later by Interstate 95. Sometimes it's for something nefarious, like the passing of contraband at a Turnpike rest area. Other times, the purpose is much more noble, like the Glassboro summit between American and Soviet leaders in the summer of 1967.

How and why did this small town and its college campus become the site of a groundbreaking meeting between the two Cold War superpowers? First, we'll need to take a look at the global climate at the time. The Arabs and Israelis had just fought the Six Day War, with the United States and the USSR taking opposing sides; the Vietnam War was heating up, as well. Many people feared that the unrest would ultimately result in a military showdown. Diplomats realized that much could be gained by getting U.S. President Lyndon Johnson and Soviet Premier Alexi Kosygin in the same room to discuss these issues as well as both sides' missile defense systems.

Conveniently, Kosygin planned to be in the United States in late June to address the United Nations in New York. While open to talking with LBJ, he refused to go to Washington D.C. to do it. Johnson was equally as adamant about not traveling to New York to talk with his Soviet counterpart. Somewhere along the line, a compromise was drawn: meet midway, in New Jersey.

Stopping at the John Fenwick Rest Area wasn't an option, obviously, so Governor Richard Hughes' staff aides quickly cast about South Jersey looking for a suitable location for two world leaders to chat for a few days. Glassboro State College suited the bill: it was close enough to a major airport, had good road access and appropriate meeting space. Students and much of the faculty had left for the semester, with final exams and commencement ceremonies already done.

Originally the home of glass company owner Thomas Whitney,
Hollybush later served as home to Glassboro State College's
presidents before its appearance in world politics.

Glassboro officials were given just 16 hours to prepare the campus for the historic meeting. The college president's house, Hollybush, was designated as the site of the talks between Johnson and Kosygin, but additional facilities would be needed for their respective security details, advisors and, of course, the media. Local residents also pitched in to gussy up the town, recognizing the opportunity to showcase their community on the world stage.

For ten hours stretching between June 23 and 25, Johnson and Kosygin discussed a variety of issues, including possible Vietnam peace negotiations, the Middle East conflict and a potential arms agreement. No formal announcements were made at the conclusion of the summit, but the meeting was widely viewed as a positive development in thawing the Cold War. As Johnson was quoted as saying, "It does help a lot to sit down and look a man in the eye all day long and reason with him, particularly if he's trying to reason with you."

How did all this affect Glassboro? According to an alumni magazine account published 30 years later, many incoming freshmen chose to come to the school in the years following, based on what the Summit had revealed about Glassboro State. Who knows if they were expecting another presidential visit, or maybe other notable events, but one thing's for sure: this little Gloucester County town would always have its place in world history.