On a summer collecting trip in Northern Illinois, PhD botany student Norma Pfeiffer made “a most remarkable find” near Lake Calumet in Cook County. No, it wasn’t gold or platinum … It was something far rarer. A diminutive flower of the Sand Prairie. A unique first discovery that would be named Thismia americana. This tiny plant has no chlorophyll, so it doesn’t produce its own nutrients through photosynthesis. Rather, it gets nutrients by forming relationships with underground fungi. It only appears above ground when it flowers, sending up tiny bluish-white flowers only a few millimeters across. The banding on the flowers, along with their three-part form, explains its common name: “Banded Trinity.”

MIKE MILLER

That remarkable find was in 1912. A new species discovered in a place where it shouldn’t be found. There are 108 recognized species of Thismia in the world. Thismia americana is the only one known to grow in the north temperate zone. All others grow in Indo-Malaya and south to Tasmania and in Central and South America. A tiny flower precariously perched upon the sandy shores of Chicago, growing nowhere else on the planet. The last year it was seen was 1916.

Its disappearance is more than a botanical footnote; it is a warning about how quickly human “progress” can erase forms of life whose value we barely understand until they are gone.

The problem with being such a rarity is that it is very easy to become extinct. Such seems to be the fate of Thismia americana. The wet sand prairie soon became part of the intersection of 119th Street and Torrence Avenue, a growing industrial neighborhood in South Deering. The shores of Lake Calumet have since been transformed by generations of industrial redevelopment. The home of this long-lost plant is now associated with sites designated by the EPA as “The Lake Calumet Cluster,” a Superfund Site where excavation workers may need self-contained breathing apparatus just to dig a hole … a stark testament to how thoroughly we can alter a living landscape.

This drawing is from Norma Pfeiffer’s herbarium specimen of Thismia americana . The sketch is housed in the Herbarium at the Field Museum in Chicago.
MIKE MILLER

Extinction affects mankind in at least two ways. First and foremost is the ethical nature of the problem. We often rationalize modern extinction by believing that humanity does not maliciously strike out at nature with the sole intent of causing extinctions. Extinction then becomes a byproduct of our efforts to expand industry and spur economic growth. However, be it malicious or merely an aftereffect, the bottom line is the same … Something precious is gone forever. How long will we be content with pleading ignorance? How many ghosts will it take to keep us up at night? If history is a guidepost, there will be many more living things gone before we even start to think about the ramifications of our actions.

Western culture has a hard time feeling the sting of an ethical debate. While some in our society are disturbed by the prospects of extinction, collectively our hide is much too thick. But extinction goes beyond the intrinsic or ethical view. It can affect our daily lives in a much more perceptible way. Ways our current knowledge base cannot even fathom.

Look at island ecosystems, for instance. In Hawaii, more than 130 plant taxa have already gone extinct, and hundreds more are officially listed as endangered or threatened. The pattern is painfully clear: many species are disappearing faster than we can understand their role in the larger web of life.

This is a scary thought when you realize how often modern medicine still depends on the genetic resources of wild species. Global herbal and plant-based medicine markets have been valued in the tens of billions of dollars, and many conventional drugs still trace their origins to compounds first discovered in plants.

You might remember that if you had leukemia as a child in the early 1960s you had a 20% chance of long-term survival. Now, thanks to two drugs developed from the Rosy Periwinkle, a tropical plant from Madagascar, you now have a 90% chance.

Thousands of plants and animals are believed to vanish each year. We do know that in the early 1900s Thismia americana was one of them. Extinction is forever. There is no turning back.

We can only ponder if this plant was one of those living things that in some way could have helped fight the ever-growing onslaught of disease and suffering that plague our society. A tiny plant in the sand has become another ghost to weigh on our conscience. Unfortunately, it is not the last. Ten thousand species will join it this year. Soon the ghosts will outnumber the living.