ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, April 2, 1997 TAG: 9704020021
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: HANOVER, ILL.
SOURCE: TERRI LIKENS ASSOCIATED PRESS
It is warm in the shed where a sea of peeping, fluffy baby ducks parts at Mark Klippert's feet.
The tawny, pocket-sized creatures have put this little town of about 1,000 people on the international trade map. Hanover is a leading producer of one product: mallard ducks.
For more than 40 years, the ducks have been the bread and butter of the family that started it all.
Klippert, whose wife, Monica, is the third generation in the business, gave up an office job to work the duck farm.
``I had a finance degree, of all things,'' says Klippert, clad in insulated coveralls and mucky boots. ``I always pictured myself working in a suit and tie.''
Leo Whalen started the hatchery in the far northwestern corner of the state as a private duck hunting preserve in 1954. While the preserve didn't go over well, a demand for healthy mallards to stock other preserves was good. Whalen refocused his efforts. Thus, the Whistling Wings hatchery went into business that year.
Mallards, known for emerald-headed males and the whistle of their wings in flight, are common throughout North America.
But thanks to the hatchery, they have found new homes around the world, including places in South Africa, the Middle East, Thailand and the Philippines.
Many still are used to stock hunting preserves, while others are purchased because the buyers just like having them around. Some are used in research, such as for insulin and heart
studies, and a few end up on the dinner table.
Whistling Wings gets just over $2 for a chick and can get $17 for a breeder. The company raises and sells more than 200,000 ducks each year.
Since Whalen's death, his daughter Marianne Murphy - Klippert's mother-in-law - has run the operation. She and daughter Monica handle much of the business in the office and gift shop next to the hatchery.
Murphy coaxed her daughter and son-in-law to leave their white-collar jobs in Des Moines, Iowa, and come work with her when her brother dropped out of the business.
The mallard operation is scattered around the community. The hatchery is in an old garage on Hanover's main drag. The ducks are raised in a series of sheds, pens and lakes just outside of town.
Every day is like Easter at Whistling Wings, where workers often have to search for hidden eggs.
By manipulating the temperature, employees can control the hatching date. Monday is always hatching day - mainly for shipping purchases. In the busier summer season, Wednesday hatching days are added.
After chicks hatch, they are kept in pens in warm sheds.
Those that are not shipped young will later be moved to outdoor pens and then to one of the farm's many lakes. Many ducks escape, but that isn't much of a concern. The fugitives usually return to the flock for the free lunches of grain and meal.
``Food - that's the trump card,'' Klippert says.
Little goes to waste in this business. Infertile eggs are drained, decorated and sold by a local woman. Duck manure is sold as fertilizer.
Although Murphy would not reveal the annual earnings of the company, she said it has provided the family a good middle-class income.
``We're not getting rich,'' she adds.
Hanover has enjoyed the success of the mallard business.
``We're known as the duck capital of the world,'' Mayor Donald Schaible says proudly. ``It serves as a tourist attraction.''
In 1972, the town began cashing in on the business by holding the first annual Mallard Fest, which draws up to 3,000 people into town to celebrate all things ducky.
``They've done a lot for our community,'' Schaible says.
LENGTH: Medium: 81 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: ASSOCIATED PRESS. 1. (Clockwise from top left) Markby CNBKlippert checks out a duck pen at his farm. 2. Eggs are candled to
check for fertility. 3. Brenda Hackett sorts fertilized eggs. 4. A
two-day-old mallard duck quacks amid the duck-themed merchandise in
the gift shop of the Whistling Wings duck farm. color.