Southern Bookman

Patrick Radden Keefe's "Say Nothing" reveals horrors of Irish guerrilla war against British

Patrick Radden Keefe's "Say Nothing" uncovers in pulsing detail Britain's 30-year war against Irish Catholics in Belfast.

Keefe acknowledges that the book's not a comprehensive history of the "Troubles," the sectarian violence that shattered Northern Ireland from 1968 through the Good Friday peace agreement of 1998. He discloses little about violence carried out by Protestant groups against their Catholic enemies.

Instead, Keefe examines the increasing brutality and nihilism of the guerrilla war between the Catholic Irish Republican Army's militant "provos" wing and the British army, which occupied Belfast. Instead of enforcing peace, the British soldiers carried out ruthless violence against the Catholic resisters.

Crushed by social and economic discrimination and mired in poverty, the Irish Catholics are sympathetic figures at the start of the book. Keefe with spellbinding power traces the IRA freedom fighters' transformation into terrorists and murderers.

Keefe reveals the appalling death toll of the British-IRA war. A mass bombing in London carried out by the Provos brings multiple deaths, unintended, the Provos claimed. Those suspected of betraying the IRA to the British are "disappeared."

One particular case represents the Irish fighters' descent into cold-blooded criminality. The murder of Jean McConville, a 38-year-old mother of 10 kidnapped from her home while her young children watched in December 1972, is the book's overriding narrative element.

McConville, a Protestant who married a Catholic who died of cancer, was falsely accused of spying for the British.

The McConville children's story of growing up in poverty and searching for the truth of their mother's disappearance alternates throughout the book with the broader history of the British-IRA conflict.

After years of heartbreak, McConville's body is at last discovered in a seaside grave, and key IRA figures, paricularly Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams, are implicated in her murder.

Adams, one of the Catholic leaders whose rise and fall are documented by Keefe, denied his involvement with the IRA. Keefe builds an ironclad case that Adams led the Provos and ordered McConville's murder. Other once endearing Catholic leaders carried out her slaying.

Based on impressive research, especially tapes made by a Boston College oral history project, the book shows how desperation pushes humans into extreme behavior.

With the suspense of a thriller and murder mystery and the epic power of the best historical chronicles, "Say Nothing" says everything about the savage war between the British and IRA.

 

 

 

 

Farewell, Charles Loudermilk, member of Atlanta's greatest generation

Everytime I pass through the Buckhead Triangle, I mentally salute Charlie Loudermilk.

Loudermilk, who died from a stroke Wednesday at age 95, was one of the business and civic leaders who made Atlanta a major city.

The triangle, the place where Buckhead began, was Loudermilk's showplace, bordered by the office building where he came to work each day and the Buckhead Theater, which he purchased and restored into an entertainment jewel.

An Atlanta native, Loudermilk built Aaron Rents into a major business. Part of an enlightened entrepreneurial generation that pursued big ambitions for Atlanta, Loudermilk supported the civil rights movement, his business providing tents and chairs for rallies. He was a close friend of fellow Atlanta giants Andrew Young, John Portman and Sam Massell.

Like Massell, the former mayor and president of the Buckhead Coalition, Loudermilk generously supported Buckhead Patch when I was the founding editor of the local journalism web site.

I recorded my introductory video at the Buckhead Triangle, and one of Charlie's secretaries hurried over from the Aaron Rents building to see what I was up to. When I explained I was starting a Buckhead news site, she smiled, wished me good luck, and headed back to work.

Later, I visited Charlie at his office when he received Atlanta's prestigious Four Pillar award. Mr. Loudermilk beguiled me for more than an hour with stories about growing up poor in Atlanta during the depression, and how his mother influenced his success.

I attended the ceremony when a statue of Charlie was dedicated at the Buckhead Triangle. When Portman spoke of his Atlanta chilhood, Loudermilk shouted,"Don't try to out-pour mouth me, John." They loved Atlanta, true native sons.

In a reception in the lobby of the Buckhead Theater, I was thrilled to be in the presence of Young and other Atlanta legends.

Mr. Loudermilk was an old-fashioned Southern gentleman, free of the region's racial prejudices and provincialism. He was a leading member of the generation that made Atlanta an international city. But they never forgot that small Southern town that nurtured their boyhood dreams.

Here is my profile of Mr. Loudermilk for Buckhead Patch.

Charles Loudermilk Says Dreams Realized

Aaron's founder, Buckhead legend to receive distinguished Four Pillar award

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By LOUIS MAYEUX (Open Post)

     R. Charles Loudermilk Sr., who's sat at the table with many of the legends who built modern Atlanta, keeps his eye on the future.

     “I love the city and will continue to work to build the city anyway I can,” said Loudermilk, seated in his office on the top floor of the Aaron’s building in Buckhead.

     During an interview, the 84-year-old founder of Buckhead-based Aaron’s Inc. and noted philanthropist and civic leader displays an in-depth, personal knowledge of Atlanta’s history and famed personalities. He also shows a strong grasp of today’s business climate and economic situation and a keen interest in the Buckhead scene.

     He remembers his encounters with such great Atlanta figures as former Mayor William B. Hartsfield, visionary banker Mills B. Lane, civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., architect John Portman and former Mayor, U.N. Ambassador and Congressman Andrew Young.

     “This is a great city,” he says. “We’ve had some great leaders in this town over the years. No other city in the last 50 years has had the same world leaders that we’ve had.”

     As the man widely known as “Charlie” speaks, it’s clear that he too is among that special group of men who built Atlanta into a major international city, moving beyond the Southern racial prejudice and insular, small-town politics that held back other towns like Birmingham, Ala.

     His significant role in shaping Atlanta’s emergence will be recognized Oct. 6, when he receives the Four Pillar Award from the Council for Quality Growth. Loudermilk will join a distinguished list of recipients, including U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson, developer John A. Williams, developer Tom Cousins, former Mayor Shirley Franklin, and Home Depot co-founder and Falcons owner Arthur Blank, who received the honor last year.

     The tribute, to be presented at a dinner in the Georgia Ballroom of the World Congress Center, will highlight the Four Pillars of leadership and success: quality, responsibility, vision and integrity.

     Speakers will include former Braves General Manager John Schuerholz, on quality; famed businessman Herman J. Russell, on responsibility; Portman, a lifelong friend of Loudermilk, on vision, and Young, on integrity.

     With all of the world-renowned leaders and visionary politicians with whom Loudermilk has crossed paths, the main inspiration in his life remains his mother, Addie Loudermilk. She inspired the Four Pillar theme on which Loudermilk will speak, “Work Hard, Dream Big.”

     “That’s been my life from the beginning,” Loudermilk said. “My mother told me I could be anything I wanted to be if I worked hard and paid the price and kept out of trouble.”

     Chuckling at the memory of three daughters who lived next door and laughed at him for saying at age 5, 6 or 7 that he wanted to be president, Loudermilk said that he always “dreamed big” despite growing up in poor surroundings in Atlanta during the Depression.

    “I’ve always had that feeling that I was going to be a millionaire. Back then, a million dollars was a big, big goal. I kept telling everybody that I was going to be a millionaire, and with that I was going to own a company. And those were the things that I dreamed about then. Fortunately, all of them have come true.”

     In fulfilling his ambitions, Loudermilk says, “I’m a very, very fortunate person. I have relatively good health. I have a phenomenal family, great friends; many close friends. My company is doing well. I’m living a dream. I can look back, and there were so many factors that helped me to this. No. 1 is my mother. The city of Atlanta has given me the opportunities.”

     While he credits Mayor Hartsfield with the vision of making Atlanta a world-class city, he speaks with special admiration for Young, citing his leadership in such projects as the construction of Ga. 400 through Buckhead. Loudermilk says that Young realized that extending the road would allow city of Atlanta residents to find jobs in the northern suburbs as well as giving those north of Atlanta better access to the city.

     Loudermilk takes special relish in relating Young’s role in obtaining the 1996 Olympics for Atlanta. Young, he points out, was instrumental in obtaining the vote of the third-world representative on the Olympics organization that awarded the Games to the city.

     Most mayors, Loudermilk believes, would have said no to Olympics organizer Billy Payne’s ambitions to bring the Olympics to the American South. But although Atlanta was then about the size of Charlotte, N.C., and fell short on the resources needed to put on the world athletics competition, Young supported Payne’s dream.

     Loudermilk recalled that Young asked Payne to call him to gauge the business community’s support, and that 10 business leaders met at the Cherokee Club with Payne and decided to support his Olympics effort. After hearing Payne, Loudermilk said, “if Andy’s for it, I’m for it.”

     About Young’s support of the Olympics, he says, “Andy Young could have said, look, the town’s too small, we don’t have the infrastructure, and we shouldn’t do it, but he didn’t. That’s another example of how you build a city. It’s optimism; you have to think big."

     He’s keenly aware of what’s happening in Buckhead. While he says that it’s “a tragedy” that Buckhead developer Ben Carter couldn’t realize the Streets of Buckhead — “He had too big a vision” — Loudermilk expressed satisfaction that OliverMcMillan will begin work next year on its Buckhead Atlanta development. He said he’s noticed crane preparation work by the San Diego developer.

     “It looks like they’re going to start back soon. That’s very good,” he said. “ I developed a theater (the Buckhead Theater). We’re doing all right, but we’re looking forward to when the streets are full of people walking and shopping and going to entertainment venues like ours. It’s just a matter of two or three years until when we get Buckhead back really, really expanding.”

     Loudermilk speaks with pride about Atlanta and its community unity. He cites Atlanta’s concentration of black colleges, which makes it the world leader in higher education for blacks.

     “We’ve crossed this racial issue much better than any other city,” he says. “As far as I can see, we are the most integrated city maybe in the world. We have a more open business community than any other city.”

     Now the city that Loudermilk’s loved and nourished throughout his life will honor him with the distinguished Four Pillar award.

     “It’s quite an honor,” Loudermillk said. “Looking at the other recipients, I’m happy to be part of that. When you’re honored by your hometown, it’s a little bit more special.”

     Just like his mother told him.

 

 

 

 

Farewell, Vin Scully, voice of the Dodgers, and Hank Aaron's historic home run

Vin Scully's voice united generations of Los Angeles Dodgers fans, flowing from radios throughout the fractured city.

Even fans at Chavez Ravine brought their transistor radios to the stadium, to listen to his call of the game they were seeing.

Scully, who died at age 94 Tuesday at his home in Los Angeles, is also remembered by Braves fans for expressing to a national TV audience the significance of the greatest moment in Atlanta sports history, Hank Aaron's home run to break Babe Ruth's record on April 8, 1974.

After Aaron's blast rose through the Georgia springtime at old Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, Scully paused as the crowd cheered. When the tumult receded, he gave his witness:

“What a marvelous moment for baseball, what a marvelous moment for Atlanta and the state of Georgia, what a marvelous moment for the country and the world. A black man is getting a standing ovation in the Deep South for breaking a record of an all-time baseball idol … It is over, at 10 minutes after 9 in Atlanta, Georgia, Henry Aaron has eclipsed the mark set by Babe Ruth."

A native of New York City who graduated from Fordham and grew up a New York Giants fan, Scully as a 22-year-old began calling Brooklyn Dodgers games in 1950 with Red Barber. After Barber moved to the Yankees, the young Scully was the voice of the "Boys of Summer," calling their 1955 World Series win over the hated Yankees.

The next year, in one of his first memorable calls, Scully told a national TV audience about Yankees pitcher Don Larsen's perfect game over the Dodgers in the World Series.

He moved West with the Dodgers to Los Angeles, witnessing the rise and decline of careers from Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale to Orel Hershiser and Clayton Kershaw.

Along with his melodic voice, the son of Irish immigrants possessed a gift for language. Expressing delight for children in the stands, giving brilliant anecdotes about baseball and American history, and describing simple plays with poetic flair, Scully made the stadium carved into a canyon a pastoral place.

Transcripts of his best known calls endure as classic sportswriting. Even on a computer screen, his voice echoes through his language.

His call of the end of Sandy Koufax's perfect game on Sept. 9, 1965, stands among the classic Los Angeles chronicles.

“There’s 29,000 people in the ballpark and a million butterflies. ... I would think that the mound at Dodger Stadium right now is the loneliest place in the world...

"On the scoreboard in right field it is 9:46 p.m. in the City of the Angels, Los Angeles, California. And a crowd of 29,139 just sitting in to see the only pitcher in baseball history to hurl four no-hit, no-run games. He has done it four straight years, and now he caps it: On his fourth no-hitter he made it a perfect game. And Sandy Koufax, whose name will always remind you of strikeouts, did it with a flourish. He struck out the last six consecutive batters. So, when he wrote his name in capital letters in the record books, that “K” stands out even more than the O-U-F-A-X.”

For most of his career, Scully worked alone, except for the millions of fans he spoke to as their closest friend.

 

Bill Russell set standard for bringing better world

Bill Russell's death brought home how many wonders and tragedies, accomplishments and evil, my generation has witnessed.

Those of us coming of age during Russell's magnificent championship run with the Boston Celtics enjoyed a golden age of TV sports.

Russell led the Celtics to 11 titles as a dominating defensive center and the league's first black head coach, bringing the NBA a new splash of national attention, although the league would gain even more popularity from the Lakers-Celtics rivalry of Magic Johnson and Larry Bird and the championship reign of Michael Jordan.

TV sports began to exert an exaggerated hold on the American mind, with the rise of the NFL and the Super Bowl, and college football and basketball advancing from regional to national sports, thanks to ESPN.

Alas, once dominant Major League Baseball's popularity declined, its TV ratings sinking. In recent years, baseball hasn't developed a national star to rival the NBA's Jordan, LeBron James and Kobie Bryant and the NFL's Tom Brady and Peyton Manning.

When Russell's great rival Wilt Chamberlain received the NBA's first $100,000 salary, Russell asked for a contract worth a dollar more. Now, marginal players land $200 million deals.

Outside of basketball, Russell made courageous stands for human rights and social justice. Black athletes increasingly spoke out about inequities in American society.

Along with sports, the "baby boom" generation witnessed an amazing flowering of creativity in music, film, literature and science. Astronauts walked on the moon. Women, blacks and other minorities made tremendous gains.

We saw the murders of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. After the end of the Vietnam War, the United States won the Cold War but entered a numbing series of senseless wars.

Now, a wildfire of conservative political perfidy threatens the progressive gains of my lifetime. Humans are endangered by climate change and a heightened possibility of nuclear war.

Unless we can halt carbon emissions and species extinction, later generations will struggle to exist in a depleted planet, without the beauty and opportunities that we enjoyed.

Bill Russell exhibited the best in American life, a model for us to keep fighting for a better world.

Farewell, Bill Russell, the NBA's Jackie Robinson

Bill Russell's Boston Celtics were the only NBA team with a national following in the 1950s and 1960s.

The NBA was the least popular pro league, lagging then dominant major league baseball and the rising NFL. Heavyweight boxing drew much more national attention.

Yet Russell, who led the Celtics to eight straight titles in the crackerbox league and 11 overall during his career, was the only NBA star on the same level as Willie Mays, Henry Aaron and Jim Brown. Heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali was in a different realm as a global icon.

The 6-10 center Russell anchored the Red Auerbach's dynasty, playing defense like the fiercest NFL middle linebacker. Blocking shots and vacuuming rebounds, he triggered  the Celtics' high-powered offense.

Russell, who died Sunday at age 88, was the league's first black coach, leading the Celtics to two more  titles while continuing to play. He also gained praise and criticism for speaking out on civil rights and social issues, backing Ali's refusal to fight in Vietnam.

Under Auerbach's precision basketball, each player had a role, contributing to the team. Russell played defense, rebounding and blocking shots, although he did average 15 points a game as a scorer. Bob Cousy, and later K.C. Jones, ran the team as point guards. Sam Jones and Bill Sharman were scorers, while Tommy Heinsohn and John Havlicek did a bit of everything. While the NBA has risen to global prominence, the level of play has declined from the Celtics' high level.

With all of his accomplishments, Russell was underappreciated during his career. He now stands with Jackie Robinson and Ali as black stars who transformed sports, and society.

 

Farewell, Tony Dow, who played Wally Cleaver on "Leave It to Beaver"

It's been a bad week for baby boom cultural figures.

Following the deaths of Hollywood legend Bob Rafelson and accomplished actor Paul Sorvino, Tony Dow died Wednesday morning of cancer at age 77.

Dow gained fame as Wally Cleaver,  the tolerant older brother of the impetuous Theodore "Beaver" Cleaver on "Leave It to Beaver," which ran from 1957 to 1963, first on CBS and then on ABC.

With Barbara Billingsley as the gorgeous, stylish mother and Hugh Beaumont as the wise father, the show presented an idealized suburban family confronting innocent challenges of childhood and growing up. As with other shows of the period, the Cleavers' neighborhood was all-white, and the turmoil then upending American life never intruded.

A former diving champion, the athletic, curly-haired Dow was a heart-throb for teenaged girls. With a persistent smile, he sometimes teased Beaver or showed exasperation at his kid brother's hijinks, but treated him with amused tolerance. Such big brothers were rare in real life.

Like other TV child stars, Dow had a tough time adjusting to later life. He continued his acting career, appearing in a number of TV roles, and later was a busy director. But he battled and overcame serious depression, becoming an advocate for mental health services. He also received recognition as a sculptor.

His co-star, Jerry Mathers, remembered Dow as kind and generous.  As middle-aged adults, Mathers and Dow reunited for several "Beaver" sequels.

Dow's Wally was the friend or big brother we wished we knew in real life.

 

Watching Jack Nicholson's "The King of Marvin Gardens" and "Prizzi's Honor"

I engaged in a mini Jack Nicholson festival the last two nights, viewing two films of  Nicholson's I'd never seen before: "The King of Marvin Gardens" and "Prizzi's Honor," both on Amazon Prime.

 

Nicholson's performance as the introspective David Staebler in "The King of Marvin Gardens" shows depths beyond the cocky persona of "Five Easy Pieces," "The Last Detail," "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and "Chinatown." Directed and co-written by the late Bob Rafelson following his and Nicholson's success with "Five Easy Pieces," the Atlantic City-based film's idiosyncratic script and surrealistic images don't generate narrative cohesion.

The common perception of Nicholson would have him playing Bruce Dern's flamboyant, delusional brother Jason. One can imagine Nicholson with his wild facial expressions and manic energy delivering David's get-rich fantasies. Instead Nicholson portrays the introverted David with restraint and muted emotions.

While David performs short stories on a public radio station in Philadephia, Jason's a fraudulent con man in Atlantic City pursuing shady financial deals. As in other movies, Atlantic City serves as a metaphor for the broken American dream.

In "Prizzi's Honor," Nicholson returns to his manic persona, playing the comic Mafia hitman Charley Partanna with a blend of cracked romanticism and murderous brutality. He falls for a gorgeous killer played by Kathleen Turner, and they end up in a game of wits to see who kills the other first.

Based on Richard Condon's novel, the movie directed by John Huston offers a satirical glimpse of a crime family a bit more bungling that the Corleones.

Along with Turner, the movie features an extravagant performance by Angelica Huston, John's daughter, as a Mafia daughter torn between independence and family restrictions.

"The King of Marvin Gardens" also has an interesting performance by the of the era's great actresses, Ellen Burstyn, who turns out as deadly as Turner's Irene Walker.

The movies trace the arc of Nicholson's career. "The King of Marvin Gardens" is a flawed art movie made when Nicholson was still rising as an American star, following the success of "Five Easy Pieces."

Nicholson when he made "Prizzi's Honor" was a major box-office star, no longer an experimental young actor exploring the dimensions of his talent. He repeats the signature mannerisms that his audience had come to expect.

Yet, his Mafia killer has unexpected emotional depths, a vulnerability and sense of compassion that Nicholson consistently brought to his most world-hardened characters.

Farewell, Paul Sorvino

Paul Sorvino in a long and distinguished career never played a movie's leading character.

He was always the passenger on the bus rather than the driver, as he told Charlie Rose.

But Sorvino's characters always exerted a memorable presence.

One of America's most versatile character actors, Sorvino died Monday at age 83 of natural causes at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, according to media reports.

During Sorvino's career, his roles ranged from mobsters and detectives to drug addicts. He even played Henry Kissinger, in the film "Nixon."

Sorvino stood out among a stellar cast in Martin Scorsese's "Goodfellas," giving his mob boss Paulie Cicero an urbane sophistication and fatherly calm lacking in the other crime figures.

He gave the same qualities to New York City detective Phil Cerretta in one season of "Law and Order." He quit, claiming poor communications and working conditions.

Ironically, he was replaced by Jerry Orbach, who portrayed the cynical wisecracking Lenny Briscoe for multiple seasons.

Like Orbach, Sorvino had a distinguished stage career, known for a memorable performance as the unscrupulous Phil Romano in 'That Championship Season."

He also shared with Orbach a musical background; Orbach was famed for performing "Try to Remember" in "Fantasticks" while Sorvino was trained as an opera singer and starred in several musicals and operas.

Sorvino also co-starred with Al Pacino in "Panic in Needle Park," co-written by Joan Didion and her husband, John Gregory Dunne.

The father of Academy Award-winning actress Mira Sorvino, Sorvino was one of those special performers who brought a fatherly authority to his roles.

Farewell Bob Rafelson, creator of "The Monkees" and "Five Easy Pieces"

Jack Nicholson starred in numerous films after "Five Easy Pieces."

But his performance as Bobby Dupea in the film directed and co-written by Bob Rafelson defined American manhood for the generation reaching adulthood in the early 1970s, much as Clark Gable's role in "It Happened One Night" influenced the Depression era.

Nicholson's Dupea doesn't hold up so well these days. As Studs Terkel said, the famous scene in which Dupea berates a waitress over a sandwich order is the bullying of a working-class woman just doing her job rather than an admirable rebellion against corporate arrogance.

Depea's rejection of a classical-music career to work as an oil-field roughneck appears more self-defeating than heroic. His anger, abusive treatment of his girlfriend played by Karen Black and self-absorption exhibit a now shunned toxic masculinity.

Rafelson, who boosted Nicholson's career in seven films, directing "Five Easy Pieces" and "The King of Marvin Gardens" and producing "Easy Rider," died Saturday at his home in Aspen, Colo. at age 89, his wife, Gabrielle Taurek Rafelson, said, according to media reports. He'd been suffering from cancer.

The co-creator of the TV series "The Monkees," Rafelson was a leading figure in the New Hollywood of the 1970s. "Five Easy Pieces," co-written with Carole Eastman, remains his most notable film. Rafelson produced "The Last Picture Show" and directed and produced a number of other films.

He formed the Monkees, who sought to bring the carefree spirit of the Beatles" "Hard Day's Night" to American television.

While Rafelson and co-creator Bert Schneider won an Emmy for the show, it lasted just two seasons, its forced humor and overwrought slapstick souring quickly.

But the Monkees' hits, written by top songwriters and backed by outstanding studio musicians, remain vital. Peter York, Michael Nesmith, Davey Jones and Mickey Dolenz developed into a fine performing band over the years and built an enduring musical legacy.

It's been years since I've seen "Five Easy Pieces," and wonder how it would hold up today. The misogyny of Nicholson's character might be hard to watch. Yet the energy of Nicholson's performance likely holds its power.

Bobby Dupea was a forerunner of today's social and political anger.

 

Monarch Butterfly declared an endangered species

The Monarch Butterfly's disappearance is one of the saddest stories of the "insect apocalypse."

Once a common sight in American yards and byways, the orange and black monarchs have been declining for years.

Moving closer to extinction, the monarchs were declared "endangered" by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature Thursday. The organization also placed the monarchs on its "red list" of threatened species, according to the Associated Press.

The Monarch Butterfly population in North America has fallen between 22 percent and 72 percent over the last decade, depending on the measurement method, the group said. The decline has been even more precipitous in recent years, according to some estimates.

Like honeybees and fireflies, the monarchs have all but vanished from our yards. The appearance of one or two brings a moment of melancholy wonder.

In North America, millions of the creatures participate in the longest migration of any insect species, from the mountains of central Mexico to Canada and back again, breeding new generations along the way.

The insects lay their eggs on milkweed, which has been devastated by American agriculture's increased use of pesticides and herbicides. Climate change has also hastened the insects’ demise.

Concerned homeowners can plant milkweed in their back yards to attract the butterfly, but a more massive campaign is required.

While the Mexican government set up a refuge for the butterflies, they won't be saved unless American agriculture makes significant changes.

So far, the insects have not been placed on the endangered species list under the American Endangered Species Act. That's a necessary next step in the campaign to preserve the beautiful flashes of color.

The monarchs are among thousands of species threatened by extinction as humans seize control of more and more of the Earth. Soon, humans will be alone, also an endangered species.