Edith: My Friend and Mentor (October 29, 1915 to October 31, 2015)

Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • November 6, 2015

Every time I see a Yellow-rumped Warbler, I hear Edith say, “I call them Butter butts.” I don’t think I ever look at one and don’t hear her say that. I don’t think I will ever not hear her say that until I don’t see one anymore.


I was probably nine or ten when I first met her. My parents took my brother and I on a Maria Mitchell Association (MMA) nature walk. I think there were probably some groans from the adults who saw two children coming along – little did they know how enthusiastic we were about this walk. Clint was there as well and my brother made some discovery that got a very excited response from Clint, a quiet and shy man.


I quite literally learned at her knee as she sat in the old black rocker in the Mitchell House.  I was twelve, she was in her early seventies.  What people tend to forget, or simply don’t know is that Edith Folger Andrews began her MMA career in the Mitchell House, as an assistant to the curator; herself working with Maria Mitchell’s cousins.  That unique touch – that connection to the family is what I grew up with learning from Edith when I first began volunteering in the Mitchell House at age twelve.  Over time, Edith became curator and served for many, many years and at several different times as curator – into 1980.  She knew about the Mitchells and the House inside and out.


Yes, ornithology is more than most certainly her life, her passion, but she was also passionate about the Mitchells and the MMA.  The MMA owes a great debt to her as she is largely responsible for much of the ornithological collection we have today.  In the early 2000s, the MMA named the bird collection in her honor. 

Edith collected the birds (found dead) on her own or from others, cleaned them, stuffed them, and preserved them.  Her name is on many of the tags as the person who prepared them.  She also trained others to prepare bird specimens.  She was of course heavily involved in the Natural Science department – always a part of the work and research that was ongoing.  And Clint was also heavily involved – helping with others to start the MMA Aquarium.  Her life was very much about those two things – and her family; her husband, Clint; her daughter, Ginger; and all the birds, dogs, Barn Owls, auks, owls, and other animals that had the good fortune of being a part of her life.

 

I always knew Edith in connection to the Mitchell House.  After all, that is my world.  It was not until maybe four or five years ago that I became more involved in the bird world of Edith Folger Andrews.  She and Ginger asked if I would help to organize and compile Edith’s journals – written in composition books, to small little purse sized day planners, to scribbles on an envelope if that’s all she had with her when she saw something.  For several hours a week, we organized together, found all sorts of treasures, and dug through wonderful photographs.  I typed up journal entries, Edith reading many of them to me aloud, took dictation about certain birding events, and learned all about the Reef Heron, Rocket, and of course dear, sweet Owlbert.  I quickly learned her short-hand for different birds and got better about my own amateur birding – it helps that when you get a name or bird identification wrong the ornithologist yells at you – not meanly of course!  We birded from the living room, sitting in front of the sliders looking at the feeders.  Those feeders that have fed birds for over sixty years I believe.  The mulberry tree where I finally got to compare a Hairy to a Downy woodpecker as they sat there together on the same tree, a Flicker there for good measure.  I learned more about birds during those several hours a week over those few years than I could have imagined.  I also learned more about Edith, her life in her younger years, all sorts of great stories about the old days at MMA, and some of the other things that made her tick like mallomars – which we laughed about one day when we realized they were actually older than her!  My Mom and I even learned how to help a hummingbird to recover from cold when we found one one day in the driveway, lying in the gravel.  Edith told me, “X and I used to put them between our bosoms to keep them warm!”  My Mom and I just looked at one another.  We chose the other option Edith gave us – a brown paper bag under a lamp.

 

This is not an easy post to write, and it’s a bit rambling.  There is so much I would like to say about Edith.  One thing is for sure though; she had a good and very long life that was very active almost to the end – very much like Maria Mitchell herself.


Thank you, Edith for everything you have given to all of us with brain, with heart, with hand.  You have left a tremendous legacy and a path to follow.  I love you.


JNLF


The step, however small, which is in advance of the world, shows the greatness of the person, whether that step be taken with brain, with heart, or with hands. – Maria Mitchell


If you would like to learn more about Edith, you should read her book: Excerpts from a Nantucket Journal.

Recent Posts

By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger January 12, 2026
I wrote this several years ago and have re-blogged it but the juncos are so adorable – little puffball corn niblets. And they are ubiquitous during New England winters. We all know I am not an ornithologist. I would liken myself to a very amateur birder. While I worked a great deal with my friend and mentor, Edith Andrews, over the years, particularly on her book, I still am TERRIBLE at shorebirds and warblers. Even harriers and hawks. I grew up watching birds – my parents are birders. My Dad had a primo seat at the bird venue in his study – close to the feeders and the hummingbird feeder right outside the shop keeper’s style window of his study. But (as I tend to do), I digress. What are corn niblets and birds doing in the same blog you wonder? Well, that’s what I think of when I see Dark-eyed Juncos. Their beaks remind me of a piece of a corn kernel – and thus the niblets term. Believe it or not, I had never really seen – or maybe noticed – a Junco until I was in my early 20s and my husband and I were living outside Washington, DC where he was an officer stationed with the US Coast Guard. We had a large second story deck and I was feeding the birds. It was November or December and all these little birds with white-greyish breasts and black backs with little beaks showed up. I called my Mom who said, “That’s’ a Junco!’ And probably also then thought, “Duh.” If you haven’t seen a Junco, they’re absolutely adorable and a harbinger of cold weather around these parts. Last year, I never seemed to glimpse one at all. We seem to have waves from year to year where we have a lot or they are few and far between. But in any case, I was rather excited to see one under my feeder the other day. I went back to look in my bird list and realized I never saw one in 2020 nor in 2021! Now, identification books state they have a pink-ish beak but I always see them more as a yellowy color – maybe it’s my eyes – but it’s really the size that reminds me of a kernel of corn! But take a look and let me know what you think. JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger January 5, 2026
As Walt Whitman once wrote, “Peace is always beautiful.” Peace can mean many different things. I have used this Whitman quote above before – my Father loved Whitman. And when I quote Whitman, it makes me feel like my Father is here. Maria and her father, William, were close. In fact, even with a large family of twelve people, the Mitchells were all close. My family is close as well, though we have our moments as most, if not all, families do. As we bring to a close another difficult year in which the world and its people continue to struggle, take a moment to be thankful and to find and give peace. May you always find peace in yourself and peace with others. May our world become more peaceful and may we all learn that this small space we inhabit is shared and meant for everyone. In the echoes of one of my favorite Maria Mitchell quotes, your small step, your small gesture to another or towards helping something happen, can make a difference – more than you think. I’ll end with another quote – and a poem I have used the last few years – that is fitting and that also reminds me of another Whitman poem. JNLF In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells] Alfred, Lord Tennyson - 1809-1892  Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws. Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
January 1, 2026
“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
Show More