Monthly Archives: March 2026

A primer on the Sternbergs

Charles H. Sternberg with a brontothere. © University Archives, Fort Hays State University

The Sternbergs were, in all likelihood, the most talented bunch of fossil hunters that ever lived. Charles Hazelius Sternberg—later joined by his sons George, Levi, and Charles Mortram Sternberg—built a reputation among turn-of-the-century museum leaders as men who could find any fossil they were asked for. From the 1870s to the 1970s, they steadily filled the halls of museums across the United States, Canada, and western Europe with spectacular skeletons of dinosaurs, marine reptiles, and more, many of which remain the best examples of their taxa. If you’ve visited any large natural history museum in the western hemisphere, chances are you’ve seen a Sternberg specimen. Still, it’s a challenge to keep all those Sternbergs straight, so this post is an overview of who was where, and when.

Charles H. Sternberg grew up near Cooperstown, New York in a religious household led by his minster father. The family relocated to western Kansas in 1867. Then a teenager, Charles H. learned of the ancient fish and marine reptile fossils around his new home at Fort Hays from his older brother, George Miller Sternberg. While George M. dabbled in collecting and identifying fossils, he was already busy as a medical doctor and a major in the United States Army. He would go on to be Surgeon General and make great strides in establishing cures for typhoid, yellow fever, and tuberculosis. It would therefore fall on Charles H. to make fossil hunting his life’s work.

Mosasaurs collected by Charles H. Sternberg (top right and bottom) on display at the London Natural History Museum. Photo by the author.

In 1870, Charles H. sent a package of fossil leaves he had collected to the Smithsonian Institution, hoping to find a buyer. Assistant Secretary Spencer Baird replied with a note of appreciation, but made no offer for renumeration. A decade layer, Charles H. recognized his fossil leaves illustrated in a scientific journal with no credit to him. The experience foreshadowed what a career as a fossil hunter for hire would be like, but Charles H. was not deterred. As he would later write in his first memoir, he was by that point determined “to collect facts from the crust of the Earth so that men might learn more of the introduction and succession of life on our Earth.”

Over the subsequent decade, Charles H. built himself a reputation as a skilled collector. With a recommendation letter from George M., he was hired to collect fossil leaves for Leo Lesquereaux of the American Philosophical Society. By 1876, he was working for Edward Drinker Cope of the Academy of Natural Sciences. Charles was soon Cope’s right hand man in the field. Together, they invented the process of securing fossils for transport by wrapping them in a “jacket” of plaster-soaked burlap—a technique that is still used today.

Xiphactinus at the Yale Peabody Museum, collected by George F. Sternberg in 1932. Photo by the author.

Charles H. married Anna Reynolds in 1880. As his client list grew to include Yale, Harvard, the British Museum (now the London Natural History Museum), and other institutions, he settled into something like a routine. Summers were spent chasing fossils across Kansas and neighboring states for various clients, while winters were spent in Lawrence, Kansas with his wife (and writing to prospective clients to secure work for the following field season). Charles and Anna had four children over the next few years. George Fryer Sternberg was born in 1883. Charles Mortram Sternberg was next in 1885, followed by Maud in 1890 and Levi in 1895.

Earning a living finding fossils for museums was hard work. Charles H. moved from gig to gig, often with multiple employers in a single season. He lived for months out of the year at remote campsites only accessible by horseback. In 1892, Anna tried accompanying her husband in the field with young George and Charles M. in tow (Maud stayed in Lawrence with her grandmother). While nine-year-old George found a nearly complete plesiosaur, Anna decided that field life was not for her.

Charles H. with his three young sons and two unidentified men, circa 1906. © University Archives, Fort Hays State University

By 1897, George and Charles M. (then aged 14 and 12) were regular hands on their father’s expeditions. And just like their father, they could apparently smell fossilized bone. Among other innovations, the Sternbergs built a tripodal pulley rig for hoisting plaster jackets out of the ground—a far cry from Charles H.’s early years, when he was prying out individual bones with a butcher knife. In addition to finding fossils on demand, the Sternbergs also accumulated a growing backlog of fossils for sale. Since the family business was never incorporated, records of what they had in inventory at any given time are sparse.

Charles H. (left) and George (right) use their pulley lift to move a jacketed ceratopsian skeleton. Image © University Archives, Fort Hays State University.

In 1908, the Sternbergs found what is arguably their most famous fossil. By that time, they had shifted their focus from the marine fossils of Kansas’s Niobrara Formation to late Cretaceous dinosaurs of Wyoming’s Lance Formation. In late August, George and Levi (now 13) were removing sandstone overburden from a promising site while Charles H. and Charles M. took the wagon on a supply run. It soon became clear to the brothers that they had an articulated dinosaur skeleton lying on its back. Excavating further, George uncovered the unmistakable texture of scaly reptile skin across the animal’s chest—likely the first fossilized dinosaur skin ever found. Although they had nothing but potatoes left to eat, George and Levi stayed by the fossil and continued to excavate for two days until their father and brother returned.

The skeleton—an Edmontosaurus—turned out to be almost entirely wrapped in skin, like a hardened, wet sack draped over the bones. Charles H. told George that it was the most incredible fossil he had ever seen, and later wrote in his memoir that he knew the moment he saw it that it was time for his son to take the lead in the family business. Word of the find made it to Henry Osborn, who immediately sent a representative to buy it for the American Museum of Natural History. The Edmontosaurus “mummy” (as Obsorn called it) was fully prepared and on display within two years, and is still revealing new information about the life appearance of dinosaurs to this day.

The Edmontosaurus mummy on display at AMNH. Photo by the author.

1911 was an eventful year for the Sternbergs. Charles H. and George embarked eastward to visit the big east coast museums for the first time. They saw the Edmontosaurus mummy on display at AMNH, as well as plenty of their other finds at the Carnegie Museum, the Yale Peabody Museum, the Harvard Comparative Zoology Museum, and the National Museum of Natural History. They also observed how museum preparators Adam Hermann and Arthur Coggeshall were restoring incomplete specimens and mounting them on custom armatures. The Sternbergs would go on to offer these services as part of their trade.

Meanwhile, Charles M. married Myrtle Martin and built a homestead in Wyoming. Even as the Sternbergs began taking separate commissions and working together less frequently, they could still regroup for dinners at Charlie and Myrtle’s whenever they traveled through the area. The news that year wasn’t all happy, however: Maud Sternberg passed away at age 20 after a long illness.

Juvenile Gorgosaurus collected by Charles H. Sternberg and purchased by AMNH. Photo by the author.

Late in 1911, George was hired to join the AMNH’s Barnum Brown, who had been collecting dinosaurs along Alberta’s Red Deer River since the previous year. While Joseph Tyrell had pioneered fossil hunting in that region in the 1880s, Brown’s team was revealing just what a treasure trove of fossils was hidden in those hills. Nevertheless, many Canadians were concerned about how much of their natural heritage was being taken away and shipped to New York, so Reginald Brock of the Geological Survey of Canada organized a competing expedition in 1912. Who could lead such an expedition and promise comparable success to Barnum Brown? The natural choice was Charles H. Sternberg.

With Charles M. and Levi in row, Charles H. got to work hunting for dinosaurs not far from where Brown was working. The two teams were generally friendly with one another, spending their leisure time together and even sharing Sunday picnics. Charles H. was also able to learn the basics of operating along the Red Deer River from the AMNH crew. A floating barge made for a convenient mobile base camp, but face nets were mandatory to protect from the incessant biting insects. The biggest inconvenience was the need to move water and supplies from the river to the fossil quarries (and fossils back to the river)—often a multi-mile trek over uneven terrain.

George Sternberg (left) drives a wagon carrying hadrosaur fossils from a quarry back to the river. Image © Field Museum.

Despite these challenges, both teams managed to find, excavate, jacket, and transport around 30 dinosaur specimens every year, for three years straight. Brown wrapped things up in Alberta at the end of 1915, but George and Charles M. continued working for the Geological Survey for several years. Charles H. and Levi also remained in Canada, freelancing for the British Museum in the summer of 1916.

Charles H. collected 45 boxes of fossils that season, including three reasonably complete hadrosaur skeletons. Those fossils were loaded onto the S.S. Mount Temple for transport to London, but they never made it. The ship was intercepted and boarded by a German surface raider, and its crew and passengers taken prisoner (not killed, as Sternberg wrote in his memoir). The Germans then placed explosive charges on the ship and sank it. All of the Mount Temple‘s cargo—including thousands of pounds of food and provisions, 700 horses, and the aforementioned fossils—were lost at the bottom of the north Atlantic. Experiments have shown that mineralized fossils aren’t seriously harmed by immersion in salt water, so there’s every reason to think those hadrosaurs are doing fine down there. If any billionaires happen to read this and want to fund something dramatic in the name of science, you could do far worse than rescuing the lost dinosaur skeletons on the wreck of the Mount Temple (it’s at 46° 43’ N, 34° 8’ W).

Parasaurolophus collected by Levi Sternberg in 1920, on display at the Royal Ontario Museum. Photo by the author.

Starting in the 1920s, the Sternberg clan began to settle down. Charles H. relocated to California with Anna in 1921 after being hired as Curator of Vertebrate Paleontology at the San Diego Natural History Museum. His final field seasons were spent in the American southwest, collecting dinosaurs in New Mexico and Baja California. Charles M. remained in Canada, taking a job as lead paleontologist for the Geological Survey of Canada in 1919. He became a curator at the National Museum of Canada in 1948, where he continued to study and publish on Canadian dinosaurs. Meanwhile, Levi moved to Toronto with his young family and worked at the Royal Ontario Museum for several decades, first as a preparator and eventually as Associate Curator. After Anna passed away in 1938, Charles H. moved in with Levi until his death in 1950.

George, however, continued the life of the freelance fossil hunter for a bit longer. He collected for a number of institutions, including a four-year stint with the Field Museum starting in 1922. Working with the Field’s Elmer Riggs, George traveled to Argentina and Bolivia to collect ground sloths and other Cenozoic mammals.

Homalodotherium skeleton collected by George Sternberg in Argentina. Image © Field Museum

In 1927, George decided to return to Hays, Kansas, where his father started collecting fossils some sixty years earlier. He began teaching at Fort Hays State University, and helped found a natural history museum there. When George passed away in 1969, that museum was renamed the Sternberg Museum of Natural History to honor the remarkable Sternberg family and their contributions to our understanding of past worlds.

References

Graham, M.R. 2019. Professional fossil preparators at the British Museum (Natural History), 1843–1990. Archives of Natural History 46:2.

Rogers, K. The Sternberg Fossil Hunters: A Dinosaur Dynasty. Missoula, Montana, 1991: Mountain Press Publishing Company.

Sternberg, C.H. 1909. The Life of a Fossil Hunter

Sternberg, C.H. 1917. Hunting Dinosaurs in the Badlands of the Red Deer River, Alberta, Canada.

Tanke, D.H. and Currie, P.J. 2009. A history of Albertosaurus discoveries in Alberta, Canada. Canadian Journal of Earth Science 47:1197–1211.

Tanke, D.H., Hermes, N.L., and Guldberg, T.E. 2001. The 1916 Sinking of the SS Mount Temple: Historical Perspectives on a Unique Aspect of Alberta’s Paleontological Heritage. Canadian Palaeobiology

Leave a comment

Filed under AMNH, field work, FMNH, history of science, museums, NHM, NMNH, YPM

Lessons from the Deep Time evaluation

Jurassic dinosaurs in the Deep Time exhibition. Photo by the author.

I’m a big fan of Deep Time, the recently overhauled paleontology hall at the National Museum of Natural History. On this blog, I’ve called it a “masterpiece,” a “standard for excellence in natural history exhibitions,” and “one of the best presentations of the history of life in any medium.” In my own exhibit work, I often look to Deep Time for guidance and inspiration. But all of that is ultimately just the opinion of somebody who spends an inordinate amount of time visiting and thinking about paleontology exhibits. The best tool we have for understanding how an exhibit is serving its primary audience is a summative evaluation. NMNH commissioned just such a report back in 2021, which is now available to read online. Apologies in advance for the second post in a row full of graphs and numbers.

The summative evaluation was carried out by RK&A, Inc (since rebranded as Kera Collective), a private company that specializes in museum audience research. First, the evaluators conducted a timing and tracking exercise, which basically means surreptitiously following randomly selected visitors through the exhibit. Evaluators recorded where and when visitors entered and exited the space, where they stopped and for how long, and observable descriptive details like group composition and approximate age. The evaluators also gave questionnaires to a separate set of visitors to determine what they were learning or taking away from the experience (a control group answered the same questionnaire without seeing the exhibit first). The evaluators provide their own conclusions in the report, which I’ll supplement here with a few of my own interpretations (which they may or may not agree with).

Deep Time concept art, photographed when it was included in the Last American Dinosaurs exhibition.

If you’re not familiar with the layout of Deep Time, you can explore the exhibit virtually here. The concept art above also provides a helpful overview. Generally, the exhibit is a wide open space that visitors can explore freely. Displays are arranged chronologically, but visitors arriving through the primary entrance (right side of this image) are starting in the Pleistocene and moving backward through time. The words “to hall 6” in the lower left indicate where the exhibit continues into a smaller gallery which features a windowed fossil prep lab and displays about early life.

Natural history exhibits are social experiences

Big Bone Lick diorama, featuring a mired mastodon. Photo by the author.

Most people visit natural history museums as families or in groups, and they use the exhibits to facilitate interactions among themselves. I basically treat this as dogma, so it’s nice to see it reinforced by data now and then. RK&A found that 82% of visitors to Deep Time came as part of a group—either mixed-age (i.e. families with kids) or same-age (all adults or occasionally, all kids). Group visitors spent more time in the exhibit than solo visitors, and they looked at or interacted with a greater variety of displays. The nine dioramas scattered throughout the exhibit were particularly appealing to group visitors, who spent more time engaging with them than solo visitors did. With lots of hidden details to discover and point out, dioramas are inherently a good group activity. I suspect the washing machine-like design of the Deep Time dioramas only enhances this, since groups can easily gather around them and view them from both sides.

I don’t think there’s much to add here other than to reiterate that natural history museums are communal places. Whenever we (and I include myself here) are tempted to complain that an exhibit is too surface-level or doesn’t provide enough nuance, we need to remember that an exhibit is not a book. The information provided needs to be accessible to someone who is primarily there to spend time with friends or family. It does not need to exhaustively cover ever last nuance of a topic, because that isn’t appropriate for the medium or the audience.

People don’t spent much time in exhibits

Given how long it takes to conceptualize an exhibit and design it down to the inch (a year per 3,000 square feet is a decent rule of thumb), it can be demoralizing to see how little time audiences actually spend there. Deep Time occupies 31,000 square feet and contains 83 individual displays. RK&A evaluators found that the median dwell time was 10 minutes and 49 seconds, with a median of 11 displays visited. Notably, longer dwell times did not correlate with a higher number of stops. Dwell time was higher for visitors that entered from the main rotunda than from African Voices, suggesting that sight lines might play a significant role in what visitors choose to look at.

The evaluators also found that 79% percent of visitors looked at at least one label. That means one in five visitors passed through the exhibit without reading any words, presumably using their existing knowledge to make sense of what they were seeing. The evaluators didn’t track anyone who appeared to be under 10, so being below reading age shouldn’t be a factor. I think this data reinforces how important it is for exhibit creators to find non-verbal methods to tell stories (artwork and dioramas, for example), rather than assuming that visitors will read lots of text.

Histogram of time spent in Deep Time. Graph created by RK&A.

Dinosaurs are king (especially T. rex)

The Hell Creek tableau at the heart of Deep Time. Photo by the author.

One of the stated goals of Deep Time’s creators was to help visitors understand that the history of life on Earth wasn’t just about dinosaurs. “Are we doing a disservice by overdoing dinosaurs?” is a common refrain among folks who worry about how we relate paleontological science to the public. Whether or not this is a real problem, Deep Time seems comparatively constrained when it comes to dinosaur content. According to my Big Spreadsheet, NMNH has fewer dinosaur fossils on display than is typical among its peer institutions. Just 18% of the included vertebrate specimens are dinosaurs, and these are almost always intermingled with the other animals and plants that made up their ecosystems.

A breakdown of how many people visited various sections of Deep Time. Image created by RK&A.

But in spite of these efforts to keep dinosaurs in their place, evaluators found that the terrible lizards still had more drawing power than anything else in Deep Time. Most of the dinosaur fossils are concentrated on the Cretaceous and Jurassic platforms in the middle of the hall, labeled the Center Area and Back Center Area in the image above. More visitors stopped at the Hell Creek display in the Center Area (where the Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton is located) than anywhere else in the exhibit. And of the top ten most-visited displays, eight of them featured dinosaurs (the other two were the mastodon and the windowed fossil prep lab).

My takeaway from these results is that the public wants what the public wants, and that’s dinosaurs. Even when you fill a massive space with mammoths and brontotheres and phytosaurs and every other cool prehistoric creature under the sun, people gravitate toward the dinosaurs. And they’re gravitating toward the T. rex in particular, which is noteworthy in itself. As with dinosaurs in general, there’s a fair amount of handwringing that too much attention is paid to the tyrant king. That may well be the case, but the data here implies that even when provided with other options, people are still drawn to T. rex. And if T. rex still has the power to excite people about the natural world after 120 years, I think that’s something museums and educators should continue to bank on.

Most people miss the time indicators

Ice Age animals are sequestered by a wall representing the Younger Dryas mass extinction. Photo by the author.

Deep Time does not require visitors to follow a defined path. The open floorplan allows visitors to move freely through the space, pinballing among the displays that most interest them. However, the exhibit still has a linear narrative: the chronological progression of life over time. To accomplish this, the designers created a number of visual cues to inform visitors of where each display fits on the timeline. Each island display has a tall post that lists the geological period and numerical date. These posts—along with all the graphics and other design elements—are color coded by period. Mass extinctions are marked by opaque walls that physically divide the space. And in case visitors missed all of that, every graphic panel includes a timeline running along the top.

I thought all these techniques for marking time in an open hall were pretty clever, but apparently most visitors would disagree with me. The evaluators found that only 33% of visitors looked at any of the time indicators while exploring the exhibit. While they speculate that visitors could still intuit the chronological narrative without using those indicators, this strikes me as disappointing. I really like the idea of an evolution exhibit where you can look at ecosystems up close while also stepping back to take in the big picture, but evidently this easier said than done.

The climate message is understated

A series of videos about how everyday people can help the Earth is the exhibit’s largest and longest media display. Photo by the author.

Deep Time contains a strong message about how humans are changing the Earth in unprecedented ways. As I wrote in 2019:

The hardest-hitting message [in Deep Time] is about the modern climate crisis. The fact that industrial activity is profoundly warming the climate—a change that comes with dire consequences—is presented in clear, matter-of-fact language. It’s not preachy, it’s not political, it’s just the truth. The exhibition does not explicitly say we should stop harming the planet (although we should), but it clearly presents the evidence that we are, and that we have the ability to stop. This information is centered on an overlook called “the bridge.” The centrality of this location and its proximity to the dinosaurs makes the climate narrative unmissable. The nature of the modern media landscape is such that many NMNH visitors may well have never seen this message presented in non-political terms. I’m eager to see the results.

For some observers, the climate content in Deep Time was a sort of Trojan horse. Visitors would be lured in by fossils, only to be hit with the bad news about humans’ detrimental effect on the planet. I’d argue that this is entirely appropriate: humans are part of the story of life on Earth, and the changes we’re causing in the present are best understood in the context of comparable global changes in the past.

Nevertheless, when asked to articulate the “main message” of Deep Time, only 15% of visitors mentioned climate change (although 48% mentioned the connectivity of humans to all other life). Meanwhile, the tracking data shows that while 23% of visitors entered the bridge area, engagement was unexpectedly low, with a median dwell time of just 47 seconds. These results seem decidedly mixed, but the demographic information about the visitors in the study is particularly informative here. 74% of the individuals given the evaluation have a bachelor’s degree or higher—well above the national average, and a group that is typically better informed about the climate crisis. Indeed, evaluators found that 69% of participants were “alarmed” about climate change generally. As a rule, museum visitors tend to focus on displays about topics they are already somewhat familiar with. So if the participants in the study have above-average awareness of anthropogenic climate change but are picking up on the message in the exhibit at fairly low rates, that suggests to me that this content is not reaching visitors as well as it could be—especially for those who most need to see it.

Specimens are the show-stoppers

A selection of creatures and plants from the early Paleogene. Photo by the author.

The final takeaway that I’d like to point out is that the evaluators found that the fossil specimens were by far the most popular and memorable elements of Deep Time. “Seeing fossils” was the most common response (55%) among visitors asked for their favorite part of the exhibit. This far surpassed the number of visitors who mentioned videos (5%) or interactives (3%). To be fair, the mounted skeletons are the largest and most visible parts of Deep Time. The exhibit has just a couple comparably large video displays, and I’d argue that it only has three proper interactives (it has plenty of touchscreens where visitors select which video they’d like to play, but does that really count as interactivity?). There are over two dozen touchable bronze models, however, which also didn’t rank as highly as the fossils.

I think this is encouraging. Media, replicas, and interactives are all important parts of an exhibit creator’s toolbox, but ultimately the real specimens are what set museum experiences apart from other kinds of attractions. It’s nice to see that those specimens—when artfully and thoughtfully displayed—are still the main draw.

Leave a comment

Filed under Deep Time, dinosaurs, exhibits, Extinct Monsters, museums, NMNH, opinion, reviews