A Tribute to Davis Finch
Davis first came to my attention when I was 14 and a student at a New Hampshire boarding school. I was taking Sunday tea offered by a birdwatching member of the faculty, and browsing through a New Hampshire Audubon newsletter when the following caught my eye, “…and young Davis Finch spotted the Least Tern.” Who is this guy, I thought. I was destined to find out.
Over the next decade, we both watched birds to the exclusion of almost everything else but mostly in different states. He became editor for the northeast region of American Birds while I became field identification editor for Birding magazine. When I began thinking seriously about forming a birding tour company, Davis was the person I wanted as a partner, and he remained a supportive presence for more than 50 years.
Davis was a perfectionist. Deadlines were sometimes ignored but whenever the task was delivered it was flawless. I remember someone at Cornell’s Macauley Library saying that of all the recordings he had curated, Davis’s from South America were by far the best, not only for the quality of the recordings but also for the notes that accompanied them.
Davis was also brilliant, speaking at least four languages fluently, and he was as well a superb editor. I always considered myself literate but I think everything I sent him for review came back improved, sometimes embarrassingly so.
For the last few decades, we rarely saw each other, but a year ago, thanks to my wife’s prompting, we detoured off our route from Maine back to Logan Airport, Boston to make an unannounced stop at Davis’s house in East Kingston. Fortunately, he was home and we spent a wonderful time reminiscing. As we departed, I felt strongly that I had missed something by not spending more time with this remarkable man…but as was so often true with Davis, the last hour we spent together was… perfect.
- Will Russell