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In 1927 Crusader Katterfeld started a little magazine called Evolution. He solicited and published sound, straightforward articles from reputable scientists, avoided the wilder forms of abuse but exposed and excoriated antiscientific pressure wherever he found it. In 1932 he found the struggle to keep Evolution going too difficult, decided to stop publication for a while and lay the foundations for revival by a campaign of vigorous field work. His three daughters and two sons, although sympathizing and helping, were inclined to laugh at his "pipe dream." But Katterfeld persisted.
First issue of revived Evolution was in the hands of 7,700 subscribers last week, of whom more than 4,000 bought their subscriptions from Crusader Katterfeld in personal interviews. In five years he canvassed libraries, universities and schools in 45 States and in Canada, estimates that he traveled 42,000 miles by bus, train and trolley, 12,000 miles on foot, made sales talks to 20,000 persons. He found that most universities offer some instruction in evolution, but that many present it as an unsubstantiated theory and many more avoid the term "evolution" entirely. Baylor University in Texas does not teach it at all. Mr. Katterfeld found that the worst metropolitan foci of anti-evolution feeling were Boston, Seattle, Los Angeles. In Boston he was informed that although there were no "official restrictions" on teaching evolution in the Boston high schools, a teacher who talked about it too freely would be fired on some other pretext. In the South, many a teacher who subscribed to Evolution cautioned him against sending copies to their schools, gave him their home addresses.
Under "Scientific Advisory Board," the masthead of Evolution's new issue is adorned with such distinguished names as Anton Julius Carlson ("Grand old man" of physiology at the University of Chicago) and William King Gregory (paleontologist of Columbia University and Manhattan's American Museum of Natural History). Since the last issue in 1932 three valued advisers died: Dr. Elihu Thomson, patriarch of General Electric Co.; Dr. Martin Dewey, onetime president of the American Dental Association, and President Maynard Shipley of the Science League of America. But Editor Katterfeld was happy to announce the acquisition of a new bigwig: the Carnegie Institution's Dr. Riddle.