The Time Capsule | Roy Marshall

“Without doubt the most deplorable event in the history of American ornithology was the introduction of the English sparrow.”  – W.L. Dawson, “The Birds of Ohio,” 1903.

William Dawson was born in Leon, Iowa, in 1873. He became a noted bird expert and, in addition to writing several books on the subject, founded the Santa Barbara Museum of Comparative Ornithology, which evolved into a Museum of Natural History. Much as Dawson disliked sparrows, he didn’t seem to think there was a remedy, writing that they were a scourge that could never be eradicated.  

I expect his opinion of house sparrows is shared by at least a few people who feed native birds during the winter. 

My hostile relationship with the little beasts began with vengeance. Dad’s barn burned with my bicycle inside. The barn had no electricity and no one had been near the place that day. A fire chief, stumped as to what caused the blaze, decided a nest-building sparrow carried in a smoldering cigarette. Whether right or not I believed it, loaded my Daisy Red Ryder, and sent a few of the messy little pests down Rainbow Road.

This was futile, and a friend, Phillip Cavin, set out to build a sparrow trap.  His early efforts failed, but he persisted. He also became a bluebird enthusiast, which caused him to detest sparrows even more. Over a period of years Phil made nest boxes by the dozen, selling them to retail outlets and at craft shows, and probably gave at least as many away. Each came with a warning; control sparrows or don’t use them, as nest boxes often become death traps for baby bluebirds. He’d seen evidence of sparrows doing the killing, as have others.

I’ve not had success attracting bluebirds, but for a while did well with purple martins. Sparrows, though, became increasingly aggressive. Lowering the martin house and cleaning it every weekend wasn’t enough. They destroyed nests, broke martin eggs, killed the babies. I tried traps and scare devices, none of which had much effect.     

Phillip remained convinced that a better trap was at least part of the answer.  He made several types, some of which I tested. A cone-shaped wire mesh device caught a couple, but sparrows soon began escaping. Another invention looked good, but we never quite got the counter-balance resetting mechanism perfected. He made one that worked perfectly each time a sparrow entered, but hardly ever would one go in.  

Giving up on traps and eventually martins, I put out a few of Phillip’s bluebird houses. Each was equipped with a device he called the “Sparrow Spooker.” The “Sparrow Spooker” didn’t spook sparrows, and bluebird boxes went into storage with the martin house. 

I was done, sparrows the winners. Dawson had recognized the problem but couldn’t do much and neither, it seemed, could Phillip or I.   

My wife continues to feed birds in the winter. She uses sunflower seeds, which sparrows normally don’t bother. This year, for whatever reason, they loved ’em. On a day in early December, I counted at least 30 house sparrows swarming around her feeder, driving away finches and juncos. She talked to a friend who loaned her a trap that was supposedly effective and, although I thought it was a waste, she tried it.  

The trap looks almost identical to a repeating model Phil made, but with a difference—this one works. I was skeptical and still am. Sparrows are smart and determined, and I suspect they’ll find a way to beat this device just as they did Phillip’s, but she cleaned them out in a few days and we haven’t seen a sparrow for six weeks. I may, if this continues, give the bluebird nests another try.

Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.