This article appeared in our March/April 2022 issue as "Waiting to Hatch." Become a subscriber for unlimited access to our archive.
His days would start promptly, like a banker’s — except he also worked weekends. At 8:30 each morning, Terry Manning would step outside his two-story brick house on Gipsy Lane in Leicester, England, walk through the yard, let himself in the house next door, climb the stairs and take a seat at his workbench, with a view onto the garden out back.
There he sat for the next nine hours or so, surrounded by dozens of sand-colored eggs ranging in size from 1½ to 20 inches long. Soaking in plastic bowls of acid, these eggs were originally laid some 75 million to 85 million years ago by dinosaurs living in what is now China. Manning would break from his station around 5:30 p.m., head downstairs, watch the news and eat, maybe take a nap. Then he’d trudge back up the steps for a few more hours at the microscope. Finally, around 9:30 p.m., it was off for a pint and glass of tequila at the local pub, Swan & Rushes.
