When I was a boy, my father would send me out into the wilderness to find cattle. I was never successful at this, but I could always find my way home with some dinosaur bone.

—William Lee Stokes, 1971


The Roman head of William Lee Stokes (Fig. 1), moustached, bespectacled, wry smile, bushy white hair parted on the left side, comes to me often, though he drifted into the Mesozoic – exact whereabouts unknown – on December 12, 1994. In his life, Stokes wrote and talked to great effect of worlds he had earned the hard...

First Page Preview

First page PDF preview
You do not currently have access to this article.