What does Sam Goudsmit have to do with me?
Well, in 1978 I was promoted to Assistant Professor at the Rockefeller University in New York (the University of Chicago's sister institution, though neither acknowledges the connection) . At the first faculty social function that I attended, being new I arrived at the stated time of 5pm, to be confronted by a very large room empty save for one other, older person. Since we were the only two people, we introduced ourselves, and Sam Goudsmit, for it was he, said he was on the adjunct faculty at the Rockefeller (at that point I had no clue who Sam Goudsmit was). He enquired where my accent had originated (New Zealand), and then said "I once nearly visited New Zealand", which seemed a bit odd so I asked: "Nearly? How come?" "I was was invited for the celebration of the Centennial of Rutherford's birth. But they could not pay my fare, so I had to decline", related Sam. Hmm, I thought - why would they invite him? "How come you were invited?" "Oh,I was a post-doc with Rutherford".
Well, at this point I thought I had entered a time warp! As far as I was concerned, at my then age, Rutherford was (approximately) a contemporary of Aristotle! I was dumbstruck and never uttered another intelligent word. Other people arrived, and we went our separate ways having found nothing to talk about . . .
Things I should have asked Goudsmit when I had the chance: "Wow! What was Rutherford like? Tell me some stories of working with him? How come he took you on as a post-doc? What did you work on?What was the Cavendish Laboratory like? What years were you there? Were there other well-known people there at the time, or people who went on to become well known? Etc., etc."
I planned to ask him all these questions at the next faculty social function, but he died suddenly ~10 days after I had met him.
Moral of the story: we are surrounded by interesting people with stories to tell; be inquisitive; don't be over-awed; seize opportunity(s) when they happen.
4 comments:
That's really cool, I wonder what it's like to work for the guy who got an element named after him like 90 years after he got the Nobel Prize. I met Glenn Seaborg a few times and have a photo of me and him somewhere...I figured that with all the transuranic elements he discovered flowing around inside him that he'd live forever but he died about two years after we talked for the last time.
I tend to have the same reaction when meeting important people who have made great contributions to the world. I once had the opportunity to meet Roald Hoffmann, the Nobel laureate, and similarly I was a little too overawed to talk. Fortunately for me though, my organic chemistry professor, who had put together an exhibit on the 10 most important molecules of the past century (the reason Hoffmann was there), helped me along, so in the end I actually did ask a few intelligent questions about the principles he and Woodward put forward. It was quite an experience though.
I would add though that there are many many people who didn't win Nobel prizes and have remarkable stories to tell and at a place like UChicago it's not hard to find them. I guess as graduate students we should be more daring in trying to find such people and talk to them.
When I worked at NHGRI last year I was down the hall from Francis Collins' laboratory. For those who haven't heard of him, he oversaw the project to sequence the human genome (at least the government/academic side of the effort--Craig Venter at Celera completed a draft genome at roughly the same time as the consortium headed by Collins). If a Nobel Prize is ever awarded for sequencing the human genome, I would bet on it going to this man. Early on in my time there I found myself standing next to him at a poster session with absolutely nothing intelligent to say, feeling pretty intimidated, partly because of the celebrity factor but also because I felt that if we talked about anything, it would have to be genetics or genomics, which at the time I knew next to nothing about. Needless to say, I couldn't put much together beyond hello. Later, from hearing him talk, seeing him different places and from conversations with people in his lab, I got the impression that Dr. Collins was actually very personable and came across as more of an average guy. I won't forget seeing him at our institute retreat playing lead electric guitar for a rock band during the evening entertainment, or how he put together a contest for the staff to name his new motorcycle. I do wish now that I had talked to him that day at the poster session. I wanted to post this story, not just to tell my own story of "the big one that got away"*, but also because we have sometimes talked about the "Nobel syndrome" in class and I think in people like Francis Collins we can be reminded that we shouldn't fear approaching great minds because they will turn their intelligence/ego on us like a death ray and leave us as a little smoking puddle. They are scientists and as such we have a professional interest in what they have to say, but they're people too, and more than a few haven't forgotten that.
*A little postscript: several years ago I attended a book signing by James Watson, but I wouldn't actually say that I "met" him: the store manager told us to exit the line as soon as we got our book, and Dr. Watson didn't look up or say anything to anyone during the signing. I don't know where the book is now.
Watson spoke at a seminar named in his honor last year...I believe the speaker was Tom Cech (also a Nobel Laureate), but my only memory was of how crazy Watson is.
Post a Comment