Pigeon Control on the LSU Campus - 1977: By Dr. Paul Coreil 🐦

Pigeon Control on the LSU Campus - 1977: By Dr. Paul Coreil 🐦
Jonathan Gaspard for District Attorney

Thank you Jonathan Gaspard for DA for sponsoring this online article!

Pigeon Control on the LSU Campus - 1977


Some stories are almost too unbelievable to be true—but I promise this one is. It is the second in a series of articles highlighting unique life experiences that I often say you simply cannot make up.
During the 1977–78 academic year, I was pursuing a master's degree in Wildlife Management at LSU. Fortunately, I received a graduate assistantship that paid my tuition, funded my research, and provided a modest stipend to help cover living expenses.
At that time, all wildlife graduate assistants were expected to assist the School of Forestry, Wildlife and Fisheries (now the School of Renewable Natural Resources) with various research and service projects. While the primary purpose of the assistantship was to support each student's master's research, we were occasionally called upon to help with wildlife-related issues on campus and throughout Louisiana.
My master's research focused on nutria habitat preferences and home range at Rockefeller State Wildlife Refuge in Cameron Parish—a story I will save for a future article. But one assignment had nothing to do with nutria and turned into one of the most memorable experiences of my graduate school years.
One day, one of my professors called several of us into his office and asked if we would be willing to help control the rapidly growing pigeon population on the LSU campus.
In 1977, the campus was home to thousands of feral pigeons. They nested and roosted in virtually every nook and cranny, leaving behind an obvious mess wherever they gathered. Their favorite locations were Tiger Stadium and the old Livestock Show Pavilion—now the Reilly Theater—which had been largely abandoned after the construction of John M. Parker Coliseum in 1937.
It was common to see large flocks circling the campus, especially in the late afternoon as they returned to Tiger Stadium to roost for the night.
With the approval of LSU administration, a small team of three or four wildlife graduate students was assigned to reduce the feral pigeon population. Most of our work took place after dark, when the birds were roosting. Using .22-caliber rifles—and, in some locations, shotguns—we began what could best be described as a campus-wide pigeon control program.
For several weeks, we spent many evenings "night hunting" pigeons across campus, concentrating primarily around Tiger Stadium, where the largest roosts were located. Another hotspot was the LSU AgCenter research feedlot located where Efferson Hall—the current LSU AgCenter Administrative Building—now stands at the corner of Highland Road and East Parker Boulevard. When researchers fed the beef steers, hundreds of pigeons would gather to feast on spilled grain. Because this activity occurred during daylight hours and in an appropriate setting, we often used shotguns loaded with birdshot. As you might expect, graduate students being graduate students, we soon turned the work into a friendly competition to see who could bring down the most pigeons with a single shot as they lined the fences.
If memory serves me correctly, I still hold the unofficial record. Using a 12-gauge shotgun loaded with No. 9 birdshot, I knocked down 17 pigeons with one shot. It became a story that my fellow graduate loved to repeat!
The most unforgettable episode occurred one evening while three of us were walking across campus. We had just spotted a pair of pigeons perched on top of one of the women's residence halls when, without warning, a campus police car came racing toward us with lights flashing and sirens blaring.
The officers jumped out and shouted, "Drop your guns and get on the ground—face down!" We immediately complied. As we lay there, they demanded to know why three young men were walking around campus carrying firearms.
Rather sheepishly, we explained that we were graduate students working on the university's pigeon control project with the approval of LSU administration.
Their initial response was something along the lines of, "Yeah...right."
Convinced they had just apprehended three armed suspects; they radioed headquarters to verify our story. As it turned out, that particular patrol unit had never been informed about the project. Eventually, headquarters contacted LSU AgCenter Chancellor Dr. J. Norman Efferson, who confirmed that we were indeed authorized to be there and were carrying out an official university assignment.
The mood changed instantly. As we stood talking, one of the officers looked up and noticed two pigeons sitting on top of the very same dormitory. He smiled and asked, "Think you can hit one of those pigeons?" "I'll give it a try," I replied.
I carefully aimed, squeezed the trigger, and one of the pigeons tumbled from the roof. I'll never forget what happened next. The two officers broke into applause as the bird fell from the building. Only a few minutes earlier, they thought they had arrested three criminals. Now they were cheering us on. Looking back nearly fifty years later, it's hard to imagine a university conducting such a project
today. Understandably, concerns about firearms on campus and student safety would make an operation like this impossible. However, it was a different time and place when life was much simpler.
For me, the experience remains one of the most unusual and memorable assignments of my graduate school years. Whenever I watch an LSU football game in Tiger Stadium, I can't help but smile and remember those nights when a handful of wildlife graduate students were entrusted with making Death Valley a little more pigeon-free.

Until next time...
Paul Coreil