A Rooster, a Research Award and a Really Good Story
At Doane, we believe in hands-on learning—and sometimes that means getting your hands a little dirty… or feathery.
In the fall of 1968, Bruce Sheffield ’69 set out to win the senior Biology Research Award. What followed was a hilariously heartwarming and occasionally chaotic adventure involving fertilized eggs, an old incubator, a campus fire, a blue Plymouth and one very determined rooster named Bill.
In the decades since, Bruce went on to a successful career in pediatrics, but he never forgot the research project that started it all. As we celebrate the spirit of curiosity and creativity that defines a Doane education, we invite you to enjoy this firsthand account from Bruce himself: The Amazing Story of Bill the Rooster.
The Amazing Story of Bill the Rooster
Or How Bruce Sheffield won the Biology Research Award of 1969
By: Bruce Sheffield ‘69
This all began in the fall of 1968 when I discovered there was a cash award for the best senior Biology Research project. Being resourceful and diligent, I quickly formulated my plan. In theory, when injected in proper amounts into a fertilized chicken egg, the chemical thiourea would slow the growth and development and delay hatching of the embryo chick.
Well…this sounded fine and I made arrangements to procure the fertilized eggs from a nearby farmer and found an incubator in the depths of the old Carnegie Science building. With the help of my friends Jon Bible (another biology major) and Rod Bruckdorfer (chemistry major), we began the work during the winter of ‘68-’69.
For the first run of the experiment, I injected 17 eggs with thiourea in the advised concentration, which Rod had formulated. I used 18 eggs as controls. Part of the fun began when I tried to inject (with a needle and syringe) the chemical into the eggs. Have you ever tried to poke something like that into an egg without going in too far, or squash the egg completely? Eventually, I used an old “dissecting” needle to make an initial opening, then I used the syringe to inject just under the shell membrane. Well, this probably would have worked if I had thought about “sterilizing” the fluid I was injecting. I realized my error when the basement of the science building began to smell like rotten eggs!
With those errors in mind, I began the second run. This actually was a learning experience! l was proceeding well with batch #2 until the morning of February 28, 1969 when Merrill Hall burned down! This event cut off the power to the science building and the incubator, so my friends and I loaded up the chick eggs and incubator in Jon’s old 1950 blue Chrysler Plymouth and hauled them to my apartment off campus.
Normally, chick eggs are supposed to hatch in 21 days and so, as an expectant parent, I watched closely and the controls began to emerge on April 7th, 1969. Within two days, I was the proud mother of seven chicks (Blackie, Maynard, Salty, Same, George and Harold). I’m not sure they were all males, but those were their names.
Three days later, William (Bill), the only chick treated with the chemical thiourea, hatched.
Ultimately in the early spring of ‘69, I had 8 chick companions who were fed well and grew steadily. In their younger days, they stayed in the incubator to keep warm, but I talked to them daily (“cheep, cheep” etc.). As they grew, I let them out on the science building floor to run around while I studied there. They were also allowed to roam around on the top of the table where I studied, although they sometimes would unexpectedly drop a deposit on my book or paper.
Later as they grew, we ventured out behind the science building for short walks. Since they had now been “imprinted” to think of me as their MOTHER, I simply had to “cheep, cheep” and they followed me in a short line!
By the way, Bill had now become one of the largest chicks, which was not supposed to happen.
For this marvelous research, I was awarded the prestigious Biology Award at graduation. The cash award was a grand sum of $35.00.
After graduation, one other problem arose - I had to find a home for the growing chickens. The local feed and seed store in Crete was able to take some of the chicks that were controls, but not any that had been injected with chemicals. Thus, Bill, the very large rooster rode home with me to Omaha in the back seat of my ‘64 Chevelle.
I was eventually able to find a home for Bill with a family with seven children near the swimming pool where I worked for the summer. One of the memorable events was when little Rita, who was five years old, would come down the hill to swim practice. When she left her yard, Bill would chase her down the streets with wings a-flappin’. I’m not totally sure whatever happened to Bill, but I suspect he may have been invited to the family’s Sunday chicken dinner!
It is noteworthy that 7 years later, I embarked on my career in pediatrics which I pursued for 32 years.
