Blue Ridge Country - January/February 2019 - 52

SMOKIES' DISCOVERY

FIRST LADY

OF
THE

FIREFLIES

Lynn Faust has devoted much of her life since childhood to North America's
synchronous fireflies. And she's written the definitive guide to luminous bugs.
By ERIC J. WALLACE

Lynn Faust calls
her fascination
with fireflies "a
hobby gone wild."
BACKGROUND
PHOTO:
Photinus
carolinus
(synchronous
fireflies of the
Smokies) put on
a light show as
thousands of
courting males
thrill visitors,
and hopefully
their females as
well (156-second
exposure).
PHOTO BY TED FAUST

LYNN FAUST

BLUERIDGECOUNTRY.COM

ynn Faust spent her childhood
summers marveling at spectacular displays of fireflies from the
porch of a rustic family cabin in
the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
"There was no phone, no TV,
just nature," says the spry 64-year-old,
recalling the vanished Elkmont vacation community. "You'd spend the day
playing in creeks, climbing trees, hiking, and after dinner everybody would
get together on the porch to watch the
lightning bugs."
The memories were some of Faust's
first and fondest. But like all kids, she
grew up. Attended the University of
Tennessee and studied forensic anthropology. Spent three years circumnavigating the globe via sailboat. Married.
Became a loving mother of three children. Helped manage a bustling family
farm in Knoxville, Tennessee. Fireflies
were but a blip on the early-summer
radar.
But in 1991 something peculiar happened, something that would change
her life forever.
"I'm flipping through a copy of Science Magazine when I see this photo
of a tree in Malaysia just lit up with
fireflies," she says. Intrigued, she read
on. The article profiled a species that
flashed in synchrony. A renowned scientist stated no such bugs existed in
the Western Hemisphere.
Faust was dumbfounded. In Elkmont, the fireflies had not only been
especially bright, they'd followed a
pattern. She tracked down an address

and wrote the scientist a letter.
"It's a complex synchrony, so I drew
up this musical score using four or five
little fireflies to try and explain it," she
says. Like sending signals via Morse
code, male Smoky Mountain fireflies
attract their mates by "completing a
sequence of flashes, going dark for six
seconds, and repeating."
The scientist responded. Though
skeptical, he was impressed by the
clarity of Faust's description. A visit
was scheduled for the following June.
By the spring of 1992 the Elkmont
of Faust's childhood was gone. Appropriated by the park, its 70-plus cabins
were slated to be demolished (to make
room for a campground). Returning
was bittersweet-though mournful
of the loss, the prospect of a groundbreaking discovery was thrilling.
"I ride up there with these two scientists and it starts getting dark and I
have to sort of coax them out the van,"
recalls Faust with a laugh. As academic researchers, the two spent most of
their time in labs. "They were from the
city; they were terrified of bears and
snakes!"
Night falls and the fireflies emerge.
But their flashes appear random. The
men scoff, grumble.
"It's 9:30 and I'm getting really nervous," Faust remembers. "I'm questioning myself, like, 'Am I crazy? Did I make
this up?'"
Thirty minutes pass. Nothing. Then,
voila, the bugs have warmed up: The
real show begins.
"Suddenly the men are running

Blue Ridge Country - January/February 2019

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