Plethodon virginia, Tech, Blacksburg

Hassapakis, Craig, 2020, Joe Mitchell - An Unfinished Life, Amphibian & Reptile Conservation (e 280) 14 (3) : -

Virginia Tech, Blacksburg , Virginia , USA

I first met Joe Mitchell in 1993, the year I arrived at Virginia Tech. I can no longer remember the exact circumstances, but I think Joe was in Blacksburg to meet with someone else at the university or to meet with Sue Bruenderman, who at that time was the Non-Game Aquatics coordinator for the Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries (VDGIF). Someone must have thought it would be a good idea to connect Joe with a new faculty member who had an interest in amphibians, so I think Joe looked me up or stopped by, and somehow, we were introduced. I know that by then I’d heard his name several times as someone I needed to connect with.

I had originally been hired by Virginia Tech to work on non-game songbirds, but having landed in the southern Appalachians, I was eager to expand my research to include plethodontid salamanders, and an invitation to participate in a silvicultural experiment by colleagues in our Forestry Department had gotten me started on such a project. It quickly became clear that there was a greater need (and more funds) for research on the conservation and management of amphibians and reptiles in Virginia than for songbird work, and Joe was one of the few people currently filling that niche. At the time he was an adjunct faculty member at University of Richmond , teaching Biology courses at night and doing independent research and consulting work during the day .

Joe had been involved in the early studies of bog turtles in southwest Virginia, and was very concerned that conservation efforts for this species in the southeast needed to increase. Based on discussions he had with Kurt Buhlmann, he worked with Sue Bruenderman (VDGIF) and Alison Haskell (USFWS) to negotiate support for research on bog turtle movement and the importance of streams as movement corridors between isolated wetlands. I’m not sure how he managed to navigate the process of obtaining the always scarce “Section 6” funds before the species was listed, but Joe was often able to find ways to get folks to address work that he saw as urgent. The logistics of travelling from Richmond to southwestern Virginia to do this work were daunting, and so Joe approached me about collaborating on this project. I protested that I didn’t know a thing about turtles, but Joe assured me that he’d teach me whatever I needed to know about working with turtles and that my expertise on movement behavior and corridors was the perfect fit for the project. By that time Mike Pinder had replaced Sue at VDGIF, and together we embarked on the bog turtle research that I’ve continued on and off ever since.

Joe always welcomed me as a collaborator and colleague, and he encouraged me in my shift to herpetological work. As I was typing this just now, I happened to notice his Reptiles of Virginia book out on my side table, as I had been referring to it while working on a bog turtle manuscript within the last couple of weeks. I just looked to see what the inscription said, and found his prophetic words from October 1994: “maybe you are discovering that herps are just as exciting as birds” ( Fig. 7). It would have been easy for Joe to try to stake out his territory, and treat me as a competitor rather than a collaborator, especially because his financial livelihood depended on continuing to get contracts for work. But Joe was consistently open and encouraging. I know he had plenty of conflicts over the years. Like most of us, he certainly wasn’t immune to feeling like his toes were being stepped on, that he was being taken advantage of or snubbed, and there were plenty of people that got irritated at Joe too. But besides being passionate about the science, and the organisms, and the important work getting done, Joe cared deeply about people and was very invested in mentoring and supporting other herpetologists. Every time I spoke with him while I was untenured, he asked how my publications were coming along, and reminded me to make publishing my priority. He was a great mentor and source of support throughout my career.

Joe was committed to seeing work through to publication. Much of the contract work that Joe took on did not require the publication of results, but Joe was always adamant about collecting high-quality data and making sure it was available to others through peer-reviewed publications. His painstaking attention to detail, recording all the morphological and natural history information that he could, sometimes made field work with him slow. (I remember becoming hypothermic while sitting on the ground with him one February night at Maple Flats measuring all the ambystomatid salamanders that others were dipnetting!) He was dedicated to the profession in other ways as well, serving as an officer in local and national herpetological organizations, and always being willing to help with education and outreach.

I know that Joe had plenty of struggles with mental and physical health issues, many as a result of his military service. He worked hard to overcome or manage these struggles, and his willingness to acknowledge difficult circumstances and discuss his struggles helped normalize these challenges for others in the field. A driving force for Joe was always his family. His deep love for all his family members was so obvious from conversations with him. He was a staunch ally to family and friends alike.

It was an honor and a joy to have worked with Joe, and I know that his contributions to herpetology and to conservation will live on.