Grasses seemed like such a mystery that I never thought I could effectively deal with them. But that was to change. John and Charlotte patiently pointed out my mistakes in identifications and where the existing keys had problems. They demystified grasses for me – what a privilege to get a start from the world experts. They patiently pointed out subtleties, and are always available to help. In 1987 John and I went on a field trip to northern Sonora. In the mountains west of Cananea he scrambled up a rocky slope and re-discovered the long-lost Bouteloua eludens in Mexico. I will never forget how he whooped and yelled: "Eludens Hill," 27.0 km E of Cananea on Mex Hwy 2, 1524 m, rocky south-facing slope with numerous grasses and forbs. What a privilege that we have a world-class collection of grasses at ARIZ – due to the devotion of Charlotte and John Reeder. Just last week I saw John patiently showing a student how to identify some grasses. Their friendship and professionalism and enthusiasm have helped shape my career. —Richard Felger, Drylands Institute and ARIZ, Tucson

John and Charlotte Reeder are unique among botanists – and botanists are truly a unique lot! I'm sure many of their colleagues will attest to the numerous important contributions they have made to grass taxonomy. I'd like to comment on the many and long days I spent in their company at the University of Arizona Herbarium during my graduate student days working on Asclepias phylogeny and Río Mayo Flora. I couldn't have had better company on those long quiet weekends in the basement dungeon of Shantz. Richard Felger, Victor Steinmann, and Larry Toolin were often there, but John and Charlotte were ALWAYS there. Just when I was at wits' end defining character states of milkweed coronas, John would save the day by interrupting me with a question, or I guess it was really a demand: "Would you just look at this?!" He would lead me over to the microscope where he was working to show me a horrendous abomination – a completely inaccurate description of a ligule in a key! "How could anyone make such a stupid mistake?" Of course, I had to agree with John, even on those occasions when I couldn't make out the subtlety that had raised his ire. Charlotte would just goad him on, shaking her head from side to side exclaiming, "Some people!".
     Best of all, of course, was lunch time. This was not optional. When John and Charlotte were ready for lunch, so was I! Charlotte would make strong tea, which I think pretty much fueled the assembly of my Asclepias data set. After lunch came the obligatory fight over cookies. Charlotte: "Here, Mark, take two." Mark: "No, thanks, I'm stuffed. I suppose I could eat one". Charlotte: "Oh, you really must have two." Mark: "Ok, I think I'll have two." It was during these lunches that I learned so much of history of botany and especially botanists of the United States. John and Charlotte would reminisce about young professor days at Yale and wild collecting trips in Mexico. I seem to remember something about them waking up early one morning in their car and being face-to-face with a mule! I sure miss those days! —Mark Fishbein, Mississippi State University Herbarium (MISSA), Starkville

I was a MS student at the RM in 1968. C.L. Porter had retired the previous spring leaving me with the freedom to shift from a treatment of the Caryophyllaceae for his Flora of Wyoming to doing a floristic inventory of Philmont Scout Ranch in northern New Mexico. Upon my return in late August, I met the Reeders. As the sole grad student in systematics, I received a great deal of much needed attention from John: introduction to Stebbins, Clausen et al., the Code, chromosome counting, grass classification, critical thinking, writing, manuscript editing, classical printing, marksmanship; from Charlotte, mothering, education in botanical illustration, bibliography, grass morphology, Aven Nelson and his students; and from the two, the scoop on who's who in botany.
     It is truly scary to think of my fate without these two industrious, knowledgeable, principled individuals. They changed my life far more than the vast majority of other mentors have. I love them dearly. —Ronald L. Hartman, Rocky Mountain Herbarium (RM), Laramie

John and Charlotte Reeder have been dear and trusted friends and colleagues of mine, and my wife Patty, since I started hanging around the herbarium. We have had countless professional and personal interactions over the years. What they have given to the University of Arizona Herbarium in positively the best, and the best curated, collection of Gramineae (as John would ask that I call them) in the southwestern part of the country and neighboring Mexico. In the past ten years that I have worked in the herbarium, they have been the sole curators of the grasses. "The best collection" includes the organization and accurate identification of all our 37 cabinets of that family. They steadily produce a list of publications that I believe equals and surpasses any one of our resident researchers. A very few examples include discovery of new species, contributions to the Jepson Manual and Flora Meso-Americana, and the grasses of the Galapagos Islands. Many of their publications are devoted to untangling the trail of confused nomenclature that taxonomists seem compelled to leave behind them. Charlotte has already left us a legacy of the wonderful native genus, Muhlenbergia. Just look at a list of Arizona "Muhlies" and look for her name to arise time and time again as the author. Don't miss C.O. Goodding, as she is the daughter of the famous Arizona botanist, Leslie Goodding, and she was publishing before she married John, after which her name has been listed as C.O. Reeder, or C.G. Reeder. On top of all this they are more than happy to do public service work, sometimes calling what people give them worthless scraps, yet making every effort to correctly identify them. They identify grasses for us all, and we have come to depend on them, perhaps too much. They are a wonderful asset to ARIZ, and I very much value their presence, their abilities and dedication, and I especially value their friendship. —Phil Jenkins, ARIZ

John and Charlotte Reeder are my role models. They love their work so much that they do not consider it work. They have led well-rounded professional lives, combining field and lab work, teaching, mentoring, service. They are open-minded, forward-looking and non-judgmental. They judge people by their professional performance and the content of their character. They are ever young in all the ways that count. Besides that, they know grasses and I am in awe of people who know grasses! —Lucinda McDade, Botany Department, Academy of Natural Sciences, Philadelphia

I first met John and Charlotte Reeder while I was an undergraduate at the University of Arizona in 1992. At that time grasses were an enigmatic group to me. I had no understanding of the difference between a glume and a lemma and couldn't even reliably distinguish a grass from a sedge. The Reeders' love and excitement for the grasses greatly moved me, and it is undoubtedly because of them that I presently view this group with a special interest and appreciation. On many an occasion they would remind me "Don't forget to collect grasses." Now when I am in the field, instead of ignoring and trampling these fascinating creatures, I try to distinguish and collect as many different kinds as possible. Whether it is pressing or identifying a grass, I always do, and always will, fondly think of John and Charlotte. Through their guidance and inspiration, I can readily distinguish a Bromus from a Festuca, a Piptochaetium from a Stipa, and an Eragrostis from a Poa. Had it not been for them, I doubt that I would be able to make this claim.
     Of the Reeders' many outstanding qualities, I have always been most impressed with their attention to detail. Their collections are always beautifully prepared, and they frequently advocate the use of "PCs" (paper clips, as Charlotte would say), small pieces of durable folder paper that are placed at the bends of a specimen to guarantee its proper posture when drying. The Reeders even personally mount many grass collections, both theirs and of others, in order to ensure optimal placement on the sheet. Especially noteworthy and impressive is Charlotte's collection of index cards with notes about and detailed illustrations of hundreds (if not thousands!) of Muhlenbergia specimens.
     Due to the Reeders' lively conversation, I greatly enjoyed my weekend lunch breaks in the University of Arizona Herbarium office, and it was during those meals that I developed a friendship with and great respect for John and Charlotte. The discussions were always varied and frequently full of interesting anecdotes about past botanists that the Reeders knew during their work at Harvard, Yale, and the University of Wyoming. Although I am now more than a thousand kilometers away and unable to visit Tucson regularly, on many a Saturday or Sunday at lunchtime I find myself drifting to Arizona in my mind. I can see the Reeders in the University of Arizona Herbarium office with their sandwiches, cookies and tea. At those times I only wish that it were easier to drop in for a noontime chat.
     It is most appropriate that John and Charlotte are honored at the first meeting of Arizona botanists. Their lifelong dedication to the grasses has greatly enhanced our knowledge of this important group in both Arizona and throughout the world. Their devotion and enthusiasm set a high standard for which other botanists should strive. I feel privileged to have benefited from the tutelage and friendship of the Reeders. John and Charlotte, thanks for everything! —Victor Steinmann, Instituto de Ecología, Centro Regional del Bajío, Pátzcuaro, Michoacán

In the late 1970s, I had become particularly interested in the grasses. While working with Tom Van Devender, I was attempting to identify grass flowers and other fragments preserved in packrat middens. The Reeders were intrigued by the idea that such identifiable bits could be as much as 40,000 years old. Their interest led them to help in my identifying work. In time, they furthered my interest in, and knowledge of, the Gramineae, as well as taxonomy, nomenclature, and bibliography. Their role as mentors and friends has continued for nearly 25 years now, and I'm glad of it! —Larry Toolin, ARIZ

I began as a herpetologist. In graduate school at the University of Arizona, Paul Martin introduced me to paleoecology and the "secrets of the past" entombed in ancient packrat middens. I reconstructed the Ice Age history of the Sonoran Desert vegetation and climate using seeds, leaves, and twigs preserved in the middens. To interpret the midden assemblages, I had to learn to recognize desert plants, beginning with Charles Mason's course in Systematic Botany, and Martin's Paleoecology and Man. I learned to recognize plants by their "gestalt" mostly wandering in the desert. On occasion, I'd crack my Kearney & Peebles and tackle a key. I began collecting plants as vouchers for the midden studies. Art Phillips once told me that making good herbarium specimens was an art, convincing three-dimensional plants to look good on two-dimensional herbarium sheets. It was important because specialists appreciate working on nice material.
     As a field botanist, natural historian, I have always relied on and worked with a network of dedicated systematists, so in love with their groups that they are excited to see new specimens from interesting places. My "gestalt" approach worked well for recognizing most desert plants – except grasses, which all looked alike. John and Charlotte Reeder changed that. Because they were always in the University of Arizona Herbarium and SO interested in grasses, I began to collect for them on my various excursions. Twenty years later, I am surely, and unintentionally, one of the most prolific grass collectors in the Southwest and northwestern Mexico! My grass flora of the roadside rest areas of New Mexico and Texas is nearly complete! It was always a treat to find a "goodie" for the Reeders. It was usually something that appeared nondescript to me.
     In recent years, my conversion to floristics is mostly complete. The Reeders have identified the grasses from intensive surveys on the Río Cuchujaqui, Yécora area, and the la frontera border region in Sonora, and the Tucson Mountains and Ironwood Forest National Monument in Arizona. We are even coauthors on a new chapter on the distribution and diversity of the grasses of the Municipio de Yécora for a book on the biodiversity of northwestern Mexico!
     Visiting with the Reeders on weekends is always interesting. John identifies our specimens before the ink can dry in my catalog. He delights in showing me details of the glumes and florets under a microscope. He and Charlotte host weekend lunches in the Herbarium, pouring tea from a porcelain pot that is surely older than my house. This is a time to tell stories. John and Charlotte have had such a full life and done so many things – and remember them all. They are a story-telling team – Charlotte reminds John of a story to tell, and then fills in the gaps. And such stories – of botanists who I only know as authors of grass names (Merrill, Soderstrom, Aunt Agnes [Chase], etc.) or from their photographs on the Reeders' office wall, adventures in Mexico, of discovering new genera and species, stories about "Pappy" (pioneer Arizona botanist Leslie Goodding, Charlotte's father), etc.
     The Reeders' legacy here is enormous. The ARIZ grass collection contains all of their Mexican collections. They have personally identified or checked most of the specimens. John personally files the specimens. Specimens labeled "Determined J.R. & C.G. Reeder" in all Arizona, Sonora, and Baja California herbaria are wonderful resources in correctly identifying grasses and helping other botanists sort out the details in complex groups including Bouteloua (John's specialty) and Muhlenbergia (Charlotte's specialty). We are so fortunate that the Reeders "retired" to Arizona!
—Tom Van Devender, Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson

It is impossible for me to think about the University of Arizona without thinking of the Reeders. They were a fixture when I showed up at the herbarium as a confused young undergraduate in 1978 and they remain so today. During those years, John and Charlotte have had a profound influence on my evolution as a botanist. John and Charlotte were instrumental in my early taxonomic training, but even more importantly, they placed the field into a national and international context. As I grew more interested in plant life, it was John and Charlotte who humanized the "legendary heroes of botany" with stories of their past interactions with these men and women, making them real people in my mind, folks who might one day be considered colleagues rather than just names authoring epithets in some recent revision. Stories of those who had ascended to the great herbarium in the sky, like Charlotte's "pappy", Leslie Goodding, made an especially big impression to this wide-eyed neophyte.
     It was due to John and Charlotte's influence that I was invited on my first major field trip to central and southern Mexico, with Alan Beetle in 1981. They also provided guidance during the years when my Master's research on Lennoaceae was beginning to shape my professional goals as a systematist. I always appreciated their invitations to come over to their work area, when they would press me for my impressions of some especially curious plant under the scope at the time.
     Since leaving Tucson for other places, I have counted on the Reeders for the latest news and gossip on the herbarium and its denizens. Our more or less annual dinner get-togethers have become a cherished tradition, and they are among my longest-standing friends and colleagues in botany. In fact, it is impossible for me to think about the U of A without thinking of the Reeders. —George Yatskievych, Missouri Botanical Garden (MO), St. Louis

I began my master's degree with C. L. Porter not realizing that he would be retiring the following Spring, 1968. Upon returning from a summer of floristics at Philmont Scout Ranch, I noted a stack of boxes in the RM. Shortly, the Reeders appeared. Henceforth, "Ronito" was treated as their son. John and Charlotte were both superb mentors and "parents" in so many ways.
     John introduced me to chromosomes. I would sit for hours next to him, listening as he cruised a slide and then treated me to a beautiful meiotic squash, a grass of course. All along he was instructing me on techniques and educating me about systematics, and life. Lunch of cheese and crackers was not to be missed with his reminiscences, talk of colleagues, and descriptions of travel through Mexico, and with frequent interjections of details by Charlotte. As his only graduate student, working on the caryophylls of Wyoming, of all things, I received their constant attention and guidance. They taught me to write, search the classics of systematics and evolution, and introduced me to the "masters" at the Seattle Congress in 1969.
     Upon receiving my graduate degree, I have had little contact with them. Yet, I am so happy to have been in their "intellectual and parental atmosphere". Despite the separation, the memories are vivid and treasured and I will always owe John and Charlotte for the solid academic foundation they provided. —Ronald L. Hartman, Rocky Mountain Herbarium (RM), Laramie

Among the many positives of my nearly 10 year residence in Tucson (and curatorship of ARIZ), friendship with John Reeder stands out as a superlative. He was always supportive, encouraging, helpful, and grateful (as of course is Charlotte). His support of younger scientists, his willingness to advise on projects, his immediate assumption of a collegial stance and relationship are traits I try to emulate. I also try daily to emulate his life long commitment to learning, to activity of the mind, to never give up despite as he is famous for having said "this aging gig is not for the timid!" I have a picture of John and Charlotte (at work and certainly on a Saturday or Sunday or holiday!) in their funny little office in the basement of Shantz on my office window sill as a write. I consider them to be my honorary grandparents (I don't think they would think that too presumtuous of me!). —Lucinda McDade, Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden, Claremont

Before I met John in about 1983, my gestalt for recognizing plants had not yet broadened enough to include grasses; they all looked alike! But he and Charlotte identified them so quickly and were SO interested in them, that I began collecting grasses. With John, I always felt like a student with the master as he showed me obscure, but very important, characters on my specimens under the microscope. Without words we began a partnership that lasted over 25 years and yielded thousands of grass specimens from the Southwest and many parts of Mexico. I never knew which grass would be something unusual to be tussled with like a dog toy for days or weeks until its place in the grass order was understood. Their knowledge and hard work not only enriched the ARIZ collection but all of the various floristic studies I was involved in. Eventually we coauthored a paper on the grass diversity of the Municipio de Yécora in the Sierra Madre Occidental in eastern Sonora.
     My most cherished memories of John and Charlotte are of Sunday lunches in the Herbarium with my wife Ana Lilia. As we shared tea from the old brown, yellow spotted, chipped teapot, cookies, and coyotas from Hermosillo, we loved to hear them tell stories like lovingly rehearsed duets about great botanists as real humans and long ago field trips to Mexico. They were always keen to hear about our trips and the grasses we found, and especially news about Richard F., Phil J., Kathy M., George Y., Victor S., Larry T., Ben W., and other botanical family members. John was so cute getting every last cookie crumb with an old paring knife, and blushing when lovely 7-year-old Arehli gave him a kiss. I miss him as a great botanist, an interesting man, and a friend. He probably has an easier time identifying those pesky Bromus and Tripsacum now. —Tom Van Devender, Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, Tucson

I have had the great fortune of spending many weekends in the past several years working in the University of Arizona herbarium in the presence of John and Charlotte Reeder. Soon after I started working with Richard Felger, I was made aware that I needed to meet the Reeder's. I will forever be grateful for that link.
     John shared many wonderful stories over lunches in the herbarium. I loved hearing the story about his service in WWII in New Guinea when he would convey his true location to Charlotte, a fact censored by the Army, by mentioning that he was in the proximity of the Type collection of a certain species. Charlotte who was then at the US herbarium in Washington D.C. explained that she would go over the office of Agnes Chase, the foremost grass specialist of her time (who the Reeders referred to as Aunt Agnes), and they would determine John's location by referencing the appropriate botanical literature. But one of my favorite moments with John was when he shared with me the history of his botanists' pick.
     I was discussing with John the correct way to collect a grass specimen. He clearly told me that a "top-snatched" specimen is not worth much. When collecting a grass in the field there is a tendency to just reach down and pull the grass up from its top, however this often results in leaving the roots of the plant behind, and the associated critical information about whether it is an annual or perennial and/or any subterranean cleistogenes that may be present. So I asked John, "What do you use to get the roots of a grass?" This turned out to be a good question. He went on to share:
     "When the Japanese were sinking our boats in WWII the Army started offering welding classes for free. So in the early morning I would take a class for a couple hours and I learned to weld. Then I was told that I could get a job welding in Vancouver, WA." Charlotte added, "We really needed the money." John continued, "So I took the graveyard shift and they had scraps laying around for us to practice with, and I made myself a pick." He used the crossbars of the suspension of an old model T. "It has a point on one side and a chisel on the other. It has been with me ever since." That was in 1942. He told me that if he ever lost it he would be devastated. He came close a couple times in the field. But both times after restless nights with little sleep they set out in the early morning and found it where they had been the prior day.
     Several months later I went to get some plant presses with John from the back of his pickup truck. Opening the back of the camper was like opening a small window into his world. The truck bed was very organized with cardboard neatly cut to fit to all the odd angles of the floor. A bench was erected behind the wall that separated the passenger cabin from the bed, which was filled with neatly placed boxes. I grabbed the two presses, using these little knee pillows to ease my process. He said, "Don't take that one, that is my working press." Referring to a press on the side of the cab neatly secured to the car by a rope.
     I asked John if by chance he had the pick he used to uproot grasses. He gave me a coy look and gestured for me to follow him to the passenger cabin of the truck. He unlocked the door and sure enough between the pedals and the driver's seat on the floor was the revered tool! He grabbed it with immense pride, and it was a true beauty. Strong and looking like new, the tool is about 10 inches long. The hollow lightweight handle transitioned smoothly via an expert weld into the chisel/pick top. John became filled with excitement when he described using the pick to collect Sporobolus airoides (an extremely thick rooted grass), having a look of total satisfaction with the utility of his old friend. I asked him what he called the tool. "It is a botanist pick", he said. He placed the pick carefully back under the drivers seat, ready for the next collection.
     Time spent sharing events from my life and stories and pictures from my travels, reciprocated with interest, encouragement, and a gateway to a world and time that passed before I came into being has led to a friendship that bridges two centuries and fills me with joy and wonder. I consider myself amazingly fortunate to have known John and to continue to be able to interact with and learn from Charlotte. This connection is a true highlight of my formative years in Tucson. —Ben Wilder (ARIZ), Tucson

Dear old friend, you'll be missed. I wonder what it is like in that great Herbarium in the Sky. Give my regards to Mrs. Chase, Dr. Swallen, Tom Soderstrom, and the others. You'll be busy for a long time, following along behind your old chum, A.A.B., correcting all of his misdeterminations, or perhaps his brush with divinity will have provided him with somewhat clearer vision.
     John, you've battled mightily this last year against a mountain of obstacles and against all odds. Perhaps now it's time to treat yourself to some relaxation. Get in your pickup and take a week off to relive a few of those road-trips through Mexico and the Southwest. Reacquaint yourself with those enchanting "Boutelouers" and some old friends in the field. Having ascended to a higher plane, you'll have the benefit of hindsight to find all of those elusive fertile culms and rhizomes quickly and without any troubles.
     Those of us left behind will have some mighty big boots to fill. It is no fun to realize that henceforth we'll be keying all of our unknown grasses by ourselves, not nearly as quickly or as well as you would have. The meals, the chats, the stories, and the gossip will all be diminished without your participation. Far beyond that, your leaving has created a void in our hearts that will be hard to fill. As I said, you'll be missed. A lot.
     So, dear old friend, this isn't really good-bye. Your impact on our lives has made a permanent impression, and you'll not be forgotten. Have fun in that great Herbarium in the Sky, and save us all a seat next to the microscope at the Reeder table. We may be a little late, but sooner or later we'll be joining you.
     Your friend, —George Yatskievych, Missouri Botanical Garden (MO), St. Louis

Memoria written by Phil Jenkins (ARIZ) for the Flora of North America Newsletter:

John Reeder (1914-2009)