Museum Supporter Spotlight: Why Dorinda and David Dallmeyer Support the Georgia Museum of Natural History

David and Dorinda Dallmeyer have had a lifelong love of natural history museums. During David’s childhood he lived in Chicago and took in the wonders at the Field Museum. Of particular interest for a budding geologist was Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry. Its life-size replica of a coal mine — complete with an elevator ride down to the coal seam — still dazzles visitors. 

For Dorinda, growing up in Macon, Georgia meant school trips to the Youth Museum downtown. Over the years, its modest collection developed into Macon’s excellent Museum of Arts and Sciences, complete with a planetarium. Another formative event happened when she was nine: a family trip to Washington, D.C. gave them all the opportunity to explore every nook and cranny of the Smithsonian Institution. 

“The University of Georgia has provided us with unique research opportunities around the world. As a result, we have had the opportunity to visit many museums around the world — from as far south as the subantarctic island of South Georgia to northern Greenland.”

The Dallmeyers honed their observational skills in very different locations: David’s teenage summers were spent at mountaineering camp in the Colorado Rockies. Dorinda collected rocks at camp in western North Carolina and, closer to home, marine fossils from the kaolin mines in Middle Georgia with the guidance of William Christie, a devoted amateur paleontologist who worked with her father at the railroad. 

Between her junior and senior years in high school, Dorinda was invited to take part in a summer program at UGA where she enrolled in two classes for college credit.  “I can’t remember what the other course was but I got a jump-start on my geology degree by taking the introductory course in physical geology,” she said. She enrolled as a full-time student in Fall 1970. David joined the geology faculty in the Fall of 1972. “I defended my dissertation at Stony Brook on Friday and started teaching geology at UGA the next Monday.”  

After completing her B.S. in geology in 1973, Dorinda pursued a master’s degree in marine micropaleontology. But she didn’t abandon her delight in finding bigger fossils back home in Macon. In the summer of 1973, her father called her to say that Mr. Christie wanted her to come look at something he had found at the kaolin mines. Sure enough, it turned out to be a 40-million-year-old whale skeleton revealed by erosion at the mine. They gathered parts of the skeleton that were in danger of rolling down the hill, put them in paper sacks and cardboard boxes, and Dorinda took them back to Athens. Michael Voorhees, UGA’s vertebrate geologist, was doing field work in Nebraska so she kept the boxes of bones in her apartment. “I told people that I had a pet whale sleeping at the foot of my bed.”

Upon Voorhees return, he went with a group of students to properly recover all the rest of the skeleton for further study. There was great interest in having it displayed in Macon, where it is on display today at the Museum of Arts and Sciences. The skeleton is nicknamed 'Ziggy' because it originally was described as a whale in the genus Zygorhiza. Although new studies determined it actually is the genus Dorudon, 'Ziggy' has also stood the test of time. “For me, it’s so satisfying to think about my small part in bringing ‘Ziggy’ into the lives of all the people — especially the children — who have looked up at it in wonder,” Dorinda said.

Meanwhile, David had begun the first summer field course for geology undergrads. It was taught starting in the Valley and Ridge region of northeastern Alabama, across the Georgia Blue Ridge, and into North Carolina. Learning geology in the Southeast is different from being out West where often miles and miles of geology are visible without any the cover of vegetation. “If you can do geology in the Southeast, you can do it anywhere," David said. "You have to develop a very sharp eye for changes in the rock types here.”

In addition to his teaching, David ran a geochronology laboratory where he collaborated with geologists all over the world to date when geologic events occurred by analyzing minerals that can function like time clocks. He wanted to see the rocks for himself to ensure that he knew the geologic setting of the samples he would bring back to Athens. Consequently, he traveled to all seven continents during his 38-year career at UGA — from northern Greenland to a 6-week stint in the field in Antarctica, from the steppes of Inner Mongolia, to coastal Chile, to Botswana where, as he sat writing his field notes, he realized that a curious giraffe was standing right behind him, apparently reading over his shoulder. After their marriage in 1975, Dorinda was able to join him on some of these trips. A Sahara sandstorm in Mauritania and watching Australian rock wallabies gracefully bound up a steep rock outcrop are among particularly memorable experiences.

Back in Athens, after finishing her M.S. in geology, Dorinda worked with UGA faculty member James W. Porter in zoology as his research technician, which included many trips to Jamaica to study its coral reefs. “At that time, the museum’s bird and mammal collection was downstairs in the Biological Sciences Building. Sometimes I would take a break from the microscope to walk down there just to open the drawers and admire the amazing variety of bird specimens in the collection,” she said. Many of Porter’s reef specimens now in the UGA Natural History Museum collection came from sites she studied with him. 

In 1981, she joined two other UGA Zoology faculty members, Gene Helfman and Judy Meyer for a weeklong stay in Hydrolab, an underwater habitat located in the U.S. Virgin Islands. 

“The quarters may have been cramped and less than luxurious, but what an experience to live fifty feet underwater with the reef right outside the window!” Dorinda said. Later, Hydrolab was replaced by a more advanced habitat in the Florida Keys. But after its decommissioning, Hydrolab was placed on display in the Smithsonian in 1986, with part of its side removed so visitors could see for themselves what it might have been like to live there for a week. Best of all, beside the display was a plaque with the names of everyone who had done research in Hydrolab. “It was a real thrill to see my name in the Smithsonian. I could have never imagined that happening when I first visited it as a nine-year-old.”

More recently, David offered a series of geology courses through OLLI, the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute at the University of Georgia. Nearly every course was paired with an opportunity for extended field trips, from the Georgia Coast to as far away as the Pacific Northwest and Canadian Rockies.

“There’s only so much you can convey by talking about the geology of a place," David said. "The key is getting people right in front of it, so they can see it, touch it, feel the rock textures with their fingers, and, in the case of Yellowstone, smell the sulfur on the breeze. Giving people the opportunity to take that second look, or maybe the first time they have ever paid attention to the Earth that supports us, has been very rewarding for me. You just stand there and watch the lightbulbs go on.” 

These are the kinds of trips that the UGA Natural History Museum hopes to offer as part of an expanded outreach effort, as well as offering self-guided driving tours of Georgia’s diverse geology and ecosystems.

Having a first-rate facility to showcase the existing collections is a top priority for David and Dorinda. 

“I think back to how delighted I was to take a break and look at the collections of birds and mammals downstairs. We have a stunning collection but so much of it remains hidden," Dorinda said. "No one would know about the incredible collection of whale skeletons we have; they’re in storage. The fossil giant sloth recovered right here in Georgia was formerly displayed at the entrance to the Science Library. Now that space is a snack bar. No one can see the extinct Carolina parakeet or ivorybill woodpecker or passenger pigeon. The loss of these birds speaks volumes about our reckless treatment of the environment. But they are filed away and the current museum space certainly does not do justice to all we have to offer."

“Every day we walk around Athens atop one of the most significant geologic events that ever happened in this hemisphere," David said. "But there’s no way to bring all this accumulated knowledge to not only our students but all the people of Georgia. Certainly, these collections could be a showpiece, and they also could be better integrated to enrich teaching and research here on campus.”

Their visit to the museum at California’s famous La Brea Tar Pits brought the couple another idea. While the displays of saber tooth cats, mammoths, and dire wolf skeletons are spectacular, that museum goes a step further. Many of the museum staff work behind a window wall, allowing visitors to watch everything from paleontologists using microscopes to pluck out tiny fossils to others polishing mammoth tusks for display. It’s reminder that it takes a lot of people working behind the scenes to make a truly meaningful museum visit.

There also is the element of outreach, of bringing the Museum to the public. One example comes from the 2012 exhibit hosted at the Circle Gallery at the College of Environment and Design. The gallery featured the nature photography of James Holland, the long-time Altamaha Riverkeeper, and the release of his book, “Altamaha: A River and Its Keeper,” by the UGA Press. In addition to Holland’s spectacular photographs and explanatory kiosks, the Museum displayed specimens from its collection including mussels found only in the Altamaha — and nowhere else in the world. Other items included an enormous alligator skull. But it was the Museum’s taxidermied mount of a black bear that stole the show. People stood in line to take selfies alongside it. And at the conclusion of the exhibition, the CED students even proposed keeping it as a mascot. 

Although seeing a bird skin in a museum drawer can never equal seeing it in the wild, often the only time people will have the opportunity to see that animal firsthand and learn more about it is in a museum. 

“In the Grytviken Museum in South Georgia, it’s awe-inspiring to measure yourself beside a wandering albatross sporting a wingspan approaching 12 feet. This bird spends 80 percent of its life on the wing, searching the Southern Ocean for food," Dorinda said. "It seems we could hardly be more different. But our lives are inextricably intertwined because both of us depend on that same 70 percent of the Earth’s surface: the World's Oceans. This is just one example of the kind of story our Museum would be able to share if it had a first-rate facility like you find at other esteemed universities.”

While people may know that Georgia is the largest state east of the Mississippi, few may appreciate just how diverse our wildlife, ecosystems, and our geology are. This amazing landscape has supported people for at least the last 13,250 years. Now we need to be pioneers like those first peoples — to join together in supporting the Natural History Museum which the University and Athens community, the people of this state, and future Georgians deserve.