 OWAA Legends
Outdoor Legend Roger Latham
By Nick Sisley
Roger Latham could do it all – set a dry fly on the water with real touch,
make perfect presentations to bonefish, handle tarpon behemoths, call turkeys
with the best, and he possessed top wing-shooting skills. Further, with intimacy
he knew all the flora and fauna in the woods, fields and waters. His broad
knowledge in this latter realm was amazing; he set a standard that will probably
never be attained again. Strong words, I know. And even beyond all the above,
Latham had special skills with words. He could put them together so they’d pull
your heart out, or he could dispense knowledge through his writing in a way that
you hardly knew you were learning. He made it that easy.
Despite all his greatness, Latham was Mr. Unpretentious – personified. At the
height of his career, which had already spanned five decades of conservation and
writing, he lost his life photographing chamois in the Swiss Alps.
Many older OWAA members remember this legend, although newer members may know
little of this huge man. Latham was president of OWAA in 1963-1964, and in 1961
he received OWAA’s most time-honored award, the Jade of Chiefs. Members
preceding him in receiving this award were Arthur Carhart (the first recipient),
Sports Afield’s Henry P. Davis and the unforgettable Nash Buckingham. I
accompanied Roger’s wife, Jo Latham, to Albuquerque, NM, for OWAA’s June 1979
annual conference. Jo accepted Roger’s Excellence in Craft Award, a very
emotional presentation considering Roger had died one month before conference.
Although Latham was very active in OWAA, he was even more active in other
organizations, such as the Boy Scouts of America, YMCA, Western Pennsylvania
Conservancy, Pennsyl-vania Forestry, wildlife organizations and many others. His
conservation efforts far outdistanced his outdoor expertise. What a background
he made for himself.
A few years out of high school Latham was accepted into the first class of
the Pennsylvania Game Commission’s Ross Leffler School of Conservation. He
graduated from that class in 1937. Practically everyone in that class went on to
conservation laurels of some significance. The Game Commission was quick to
recognize Latham’s skills, and in 1938 they placed him in charge of the
Loyalsock Wildlife Experiment Station near Williamsport, PA. This is where the
restoration of the Pennsylvania wild turkey began.
During World War II, Latham was stationed at Cornell University where he
worked for the Office of Scientific Research and Development (part of the War
Department) in a project that researched and discovered the proper food and
clothing for arctic troops.
Perhaps it was at Cornell where Latham learned the benefits of higher
education. Not long after returning to the Game Commission, post-WW II, Latham
took a leave of absence and worked on his bachelor’s degree at Pennsylvania
State University. He breezed through his undergraduate degree in zoology, then
very rapidly progressed through a master’s in wildlife management, soon followed
by a doctorate in zoology. During this time, he was made chief of the Wildlife
Research Division of the Game Commission.
But then Johnny Mock died, outdoor editor of the Pittsburgh Press, and Latham
applied for the job. Without question, his background made him a no-brainer
selection. This was a position he held until his death in Switzerland.
Roger Latham spearheaded the task of saving Pennsylvania’s Clarion River.
Once polluted severely, the Clarion was adopted by the Western Pennsylvania
Conservancy because of Latham’s suggestion. Today the saving of the Clarion
River is heralded by anglers and other conservationists as a model conservation
effort. This river not only holds fish, mostly smallmouth and trout, but, more
importantly, the Clarion flows through majestic and wild country that can be
enjoyed by untold numbers of people.
A couple of months after Roger’s death, Jo Latham asked me to spend an
afternoon with her trying to take a rough inventory of all the hunting and
fishing paraphernalia in his office. One look and I knew this was going to be a
huge job. We worked hard that afternoon at “taking stock.” When it was over she
insisted I keep several of his treasures, including his Orvis Battenkill
eight-foot fly rod, his Fin-Nor classic saltwater fly reel (with his name on
it), and his 11-weight saltwater fly rod.
One September 1979 evening, after a great fishing day in Quebec for
smallmouth, I took Latham’s Battenkill out to work some nearby water upstream
from a waterfall. Within a cast or two a huge smallmouth took my cork popper,
and I swear I could feel Latham’s hand on the handle of my fly rod. That brown
bass made numerous jumps, maybe one special show for Latham himself. After I
released that fish I sat down in the boat for a long, long time, thinking about
Latham.
Then, just before dark, I put the Battenkill back in its bag and case,
cranked the outboard and pointed the bow back to camp. I’ve taken that Orvis out
of its case several times over the intervening 21 years, but I’ve never fished
with it again. One experience was enough.
As a speaker, Latham commanded very attractive rates, busy many evenings
speaking from behind a podium, including gratis speaking involving serious
conservation issues to organizations such as the Boy Scouts, the Nature
Conservancy, YMCA and more.
For all his expertise and laurels, Latham never sought the limelight. He was
very soft spoken with an easy-going manner. I never heard him raise his voice.
He had a grace about him that was catchy – no swearing, no bad words for his
fellow man, personification of the word gentleman if there ever was one, as well
as a guy with great personal and intellectual integrity. Everyone I know had
nothing to say but good things about this OWAA legend.
Nick Sisley is a freelance outdoor writer who travels the world in search
of story material. From Apollo, PA, Sisley also works as a photographer,
consultant and pilot.
Back to Legends
Index Page |
