Soldiers returning from the war who longed to be a part of something life-affirming and “pure” rushed into the ranks of the wildlife profession. In the fall of 1945 and spring of 1946, the Professor’s classes were packed beyond his abilities to teach. He had to turn some students away. He relied more on Robert McCabe, sought additional assistants, and tried to reduce his outside commitments. But his national stature had grown to the point where he could not turn away some recognition and its attendant duties. He was elected honorary vice president of the American Forestry Association and president of the Ecological Society of America. Periodically, with increasing frequency and fury, pains exploded on the left side of Aldo’s face. It was like “somebody rising suddenly from behind a bush and bashing you with a sledgehammer.” The pain would stop him in midsentence. He had to shut his eyes and put pressure on the side of his face until the pain passed. Doctors diagnosed it as tic douloureux, or facial neuralgia, a swelling around one of the main facial nerves. They didn’t know what caused it or what to do about it. Aldo decided to wait and see if a summer’s ease at home and at the Shack would erase the pain and make surgery unnecessary. Ten years of work and affectionate tending had radically changed the landscape of the Shack. Nearly thirty thousand trees and shrubs thrived in patterns that were both random (never in rows) and intentional (the patches of flora fit the soils and the curves of the landscape). Overgrowth hid the river from view, pines defined parts of the land, and the experimental prairie had taken hold. As young Estella’s studies and social life began to envelop her, Aldo and Estella went to the Shack more and more as a twosome. Grandparents now, the Leopolds did get to babysit Bruce Carl Leopold that summer—the eldest child of Luna and his wife, Carolyn Clugston Leopold. For part of the time they took him to the Shack, and, as always, Aldo was able to relax, and his pains were somewhat relieved.