Missed opportunities with some of the giants of science
This one is embarrassing. I had the opportunity to get wonderful experiences from truly great men, and blew it totally, through being young, arrogant and obtuse. Perhaps some of you might learn from my mistakes. Here goes:
When I was in graduate school at the University of Texas at Austin Chemistry Department, my professor, the late and great W. H. Wade, would occasionally push us to learn something from our elders.
I met one of the men who worked on the Manhattan Project, and was part of the teams that discovered the chemical elements Americium and Curium, Dr. Tom Morgan. He helped me understand NMR graphs, necessary for my Master's degree. Dr. Morgan never talked about what he had done 44 years earlier, he was just nice and incredibly helpful.
I found out about Dr. Morgan's achievements years later, long after he had died. I felt very sad years later when I realized he was one of the true giants of science. Had I known, I would have invited him to one of our many Friday afternoon drinking sessions at the Texas Union, so he could tell us stories about what it was like to work at Los Alamos. I would have bought him beer, and treasured the stories for the rest of my life.
Bill Wade was also a giant of science. I got a very few stories out of him. (He made us buy our own beer, but occasionally bought us a pitcher). He was one of the pioneers of surface chemistry, now a huge deal (fracking). Bill was one of the people who paved the way for the US to again become the world leader in oil production, nearly 20 years after his death. I just knew him at the time as my rather curmudgeonly, demanding, irascible professor. He would suddenly appear in the lab and demand, "Otken, show me all your good data!"
He once asked me to do some measurements on some samples for a friend of his. He barely explained anything, just told me to go do it. He said to me: "Otken, this is how you make friends!" I farted around with the samples for several days, until he became so impatient with me that he suddenly materialized in the lab, demanded the data, refused to even entertain my lame excuses, then made me sit with him at the instruments. In less than 30 minutes, with him peering into the microscope of the instrument, yelling numbers at me and forcing me to do the calculations on the spot until the answers converged, we got the work done. As he left, he turned back at me and looked at me, said, "That's how you do science!"
Understand, there was no Internet back then. You couldn't just pull up a person's history and achievements in five seconds. These guys had done it all, seen it all, and they weren't likely to want to share it with punks like me.
Somewhat later, after a lot of effort, I delivered the first draft of my Master's thesis to Bill. Understand, I had been dealing with this guy for almost ten years at the time. I really liked him, was afraid of him, respected him. He called me in to discuss the first draft of my thesis. He looked at me and said: "Otken, your writing shows considerable promise." Then he proceeded to rip my thesis to shreds. The upshot was, he considerably compressed my thoughts, removed lots of words that were not needed, and made the whole thesis much more coherent, brief and full of real meaning. I was most definitely not offended. It was like magic. He did it quickly.
Later, we took my thesis and broke it into two parts for publication. One part was more scientific, the other was more practical. You can see them here and here. I wrote both papers, directed and executed most of the research, following Bill's recommendations. I am very proud of what I did with Bill. It was excellent science, well worth a Master's degree. I gave credit to the people who contributed.
This is my tribute to the man who got my career started. Without him, I would have been a nobody. Rest in peace, Bill. I look forward to seeing you again in the next world.
When I was in graduate school at the University of Texas at Austin Chemistry Department, my professor, the late and great W. H. Wade, would occasionally push us to learn something from our elders.
I met one of the men who worked on the Manhattan Project, and was part of the teams that discovered the chemical elements Americium and Curium, Dr. Tom Morgan. He helped me understand NMR graphs, necessary for my Master's degree. Dr. Morgan never talked about what he had done 44 years earlier, he was just nice and incredibly helpful.
I found out about Dr. Morgan's achievements years later, long after he had died. I felt very sad years later when I realized he was one of the true giants of science. Had I known, I would have invited him to one of our many Friday afternoon drinking sessions at the Texas Union, so he could tell us stories about what it was like to work at Los Alamos. I would have bought him beer, and treasured the stories for the rest of my life.
Bill Wade was also a giant of science. I got a very few stories out of him. (He made us buy our own beer, but occasionally bought us a pitcher). He was one of the pioneers of surface chemistry, now a huge deal (fracking). Bill was one of the people who paved the way for the US to again become the world leader in oil production, nearly 20 years after his death. I just knew him at the time as my rather curmudgeonly, demanding, irascible professor. He would suddenly appear in the lab and demand, "Otken, show me all your good data!"
He once asked me to do some measurements on some samples for a friend of his. He barely explained anything, just told me to go do it. He said to me: "Otken, this is how you make friends!" I farted around with the samples for several days, until he became so impatient with me that he suddenly materialized in the lab, demanded the data, refused to even entertain my lame excuses, then made me sit with him at the instruments. In less than 30 minutes, with him peering into the microscope of the instrument, yelling numbers at me and forcing me to do the calculations on the spot until the answers converged, we got the work done. As he left, he turned back at me and looked at me, said, "That's how you do science!"
Understand, there was no Internet back then. You couldn't just pull up a person's history and achievements in five seconds. These guys had done it all, seen it all, and they weren't likely to want to share it with punks like me.
Somewhat later, after a lot of effort, I delivered the first draft of my Master's thesis to Bill. Understand, I had been dealing with this guy for almost ten years at the time. I really liked him, was afraid of him, respected him. He called me in to discuss the first draft of my thesis. He looked at me and said: "Otken, your writing shows considerable promise." Then he proceeded to rip my thesis to shreds. The upshot was, he considerably compressed my thoughts, removed lots of words that were not needed, and made the whole thesis much more coherent, brief and full of real meaning. I was most definitely not offended. It was like magic. He did it quickly.
Later, we took my thesis and broke it into two parts for publication. One part was more scientific, the other was more practical. You can see them here and here. I wrote both papers, directed and executed most of the research, following Bill's recommendations. I am very proud of what I did with Bill. It was excellent science, well worth a Master's degree. I gave credit to the people who contributed.
This is my tribute to the man who got my career started. Without him, I would have been a nobody. Rest in peace, Bill. I look forward to seeing you again in the next world.
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