Recalling 3 bighorn champions
Wildlife experts killed in 2020 crash helped reintroduce species to West Texas mountains
Aug. 8 is one of the darkest days in the history of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department.
A year ago, state wildlife veterinarian Bob Dittmar, 64, wildlife biologist Dewey Stockbridge, 36, and fish and wildlife technician Brandon White, 52, died when the helicopter carrying them crashed in the Black Gap Wildlife Management Area in West Texas.
The three were surveying desert bighorn sheep, a species that had been rooted out from the Trans-Pecos by the 1960s. They also were taking samples to help study disease transmission between exotic aoudads and bighorns.
“They were working to put bighorn sheep back on mountaintops where bighorns hadn’t existed for decades. And thanks to that, their efforts are going to be remembered and enjoyed long after the rest of us are gone,” TPWD executive director Carter Smith said.
“Their work in wildlife conservation gave people hope.”
A year later, their dedication still gives people inspiration.
Three men with very different roles and different personalities became forever entwined on that fateful August day.
Dr. Bob
Bob Dittmar was Texas’ first state wildlife veterinarian.
Each day, he woke up and chased crises in every corner of the state, from disease in deer and jackrabbits, to white-nose syndrome in bats, issues with sea turtles and more. If there was a problem with wildlife anywhere in Texas, Dittmar was ready to help fix it.
Dittmar became the state wildlife veterinarian in 2014 after being a renowned private practitioner for decades. Along with domestic pets and livestock, his life was dedicated to wildlife. Dittmar had been a volunteer with TPWD for years and built the state’s wildlife health program from the ground up long before he was hired.
“When we hired Dr. Bob, we felt like we hit it out of the park. And we did. The stars aligned perfectly,” said Clayton Wolf, TPWD’s chief operating officer.
He was a rare mix of technically proficient veterinarian, common-sense conservationist, landowner and leader; the template for what a great state wildlife veterinarian can be.
“Bob was just a natural fit because of his background in ranching and rural veterinary medicine, wildlife and wildlife management, hunting and agriculture,” Smith said.
“His street credibility was second to none.”
Dittmar quietly commanded a room. He was humble, slow to speak and quick to act. He could take the reins when needed but enjoyed leading from behind and empowering others.
“Bob was very soft-spoken. But when Bob spoke, you listened. Because anything coming out of his mouth was filled with wisdom and good counsel. And he was so patient. And so helpful to everybody that ran across him. Bob was a godsend to Parks and Wildlife,” Smith said.
A fifth-generation rancher, Dittmar knew how to relate to landowners because he was one. That’s crucial in a state like Texas, where 95 percent of the land is privately owned. Wildlife management in this state hinges on the willingness of the private landowner.
“We could do nothing without the landowner in Texas. We can do the wrong thing and get gates locked. And we can’t conserve wildlife if gates are locked. Bob Dittmar opened gates,” TPWD big game program director Mitch Lockwood said.
West Texas brothers
It takes a special kind of person to work in the vast remoteness of the TransPecos.
It gets lonely out there. And alone in the badlands, TPWD team members become a tightknit group, a family.
Dewey Stockbridge and Brandon White exemplified that.
“They were like two peas in a pod; they were best friends,” said Benjamin Benavidez, a fish and wildlife technician at Elephant Mountain WMA.
Stockbridge and White both lived on the 23,000acre Elephant Mountain WMA and became inseparable. The work out there is akin to ranch life, without the cattle. They operated heavy machinery to fix roads, built structures and maintained buildings.
The crux of the WMA’s existence, though, is restoring the bighorn sheep population. Water is at a premium in the desert, and Stockbridge and White helped build guzzlers, or rain catchments, to provide water sources to wildlife. They got rid of fencing to facilitate animal movement. Prescribed fire and herbicides were deployed to remove plants like mesquite and juniper to restore native grasslands. Predators were trapped and exotic aoudads were removed.
White found working with wildlife to be more of a calling than a job. Several of his coworkers recall him asking, “When does the work start?” His can-do attitude was contagious.
“He was always upbeat. I never saw the guy in a bad mood. He just always seemed to be chipper, and that was always good to be around,” said Travis Smith, Black Gap WMA’s wildlife biologist.
Stockbridge, meanwhile, had a youthful exuberance about him. The first time Travis Smith met Stockbridge, he came to the door with spaghetti sauce on his face. Smith was inclined to ask Stockbridge, who was his new supervisor, if his father was home. Smith still chuckles at the memory.
“You couldn’t not enjoy what you were doing if you were with them. No matter what it was. It could be horrible, hiking out of Sierra Diablo, out of the bottom of the canyon, in July. It’s 100 degrees, you’ve got a heavy pack on, and one of them has you cracking up. You’re smiling because you couldn’t not smile if you were around them,” Garrett said.
Stockbridge was revered and beloved by his coworkers and the West Texas community. What stands out to most is his passion for the landscape and the unique wildlife it held. His knowledge was well beyond his 36 years.
“Over the past 40 years, I’ve seen a lot of biologists come and go. The best ones I’ve seen tended to possess a unique combination of scientific thought and artistic ability. The biologists that rely heavily on science, formulas and measuring can often get stuck attempting to solve certain problems in wildlife management . ... That unique combination of art and science — Dewey was one of the few that possessed that gift,” said Calvin Richardson, a regional director for TPWD’s wildlife division.
“He had the vision of a leader; he would question me until he gained the necessary conviction on the issue, and then expressed his opinion to his team — Dewey’s belief and support was often all it would take to get them on board.”