Reed College Magazine June 2016

‰ june 2016

Within Reach The quest for a better artificial hand

THE AGE OF GUNPOWDER | STOP MAKING SENSE | WAITING FOR THE BIG ONE

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If there were only 28, students would miss out on Herodotus, Homer, or Hesiod.

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‰ june 2016

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FEATURES

DEPARTMENTS 18

The Age of Gunpowder

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Tonio Andrade ’91 asks why China’s military technology fell behind the West

Reed to launch computer science program Physics major invents new instrument Profs get tenure Doyle Owl breaks its bonds

By Miles Bryan ’13 20

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President’s Summer Fellows Span the Globe

11 Empire of the Griffin

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Showrunner

How playright Eric Overmyer ’73 mastered the small screen

By DK Holm and Katie Pelletier ’03

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Within Reach

Jon Schull ’75 engineers a new solution for prosthetic hands

Connecting Reed alumni around the globe

30 Reediana

Happy Birthday, MALS! Reed’s master’s program celebrates five decades

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By Kieran Hanrahan ’15

Life After Reed

Our recurring series on the careers of Reed grads.

Outplanning Catastrophe Emma Stocker ’07 gets ready for the big one

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Eliot Circular

Books, music, and films by Reedies

32 Class Notes

News from our classmates

37 In Memoriam

Honoring our fallen classmates, professors, and friends

48 Apocrypha Why we can’t stop talking about the Talking Heads

By William Abernathy ’88 cover photo by kevin liles

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june 2016 Reed magazine

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‰

Letter from the editor

june 2016

www.reed.edu/reed_magazine 3203 SE Woodstock Boulevard, Portland, Oregon 97202 503/777-7591 Volume 95, No. 2 MAGAZINE editor

Chris Lydgate ’90 503/777-7596 chris.lydgate@reed.edu class notes editor

Katie Pelletier ’03 503/517-7727 pelletic@reed.edu In Memoriam editor

Randall S. Barton 503/517-5544 bartonr@reed.edu art director

Tom Humphrey 503/459-4632 tom.humphrey@reed.edu

The Longest Hour The hour has come. The candidate enters the room and takes her seat at the head of the table. The door clicks shut. The professors square up their chairs. Through the window, there’s a glimpse of spring in the lush green grass. Inside, the mood is friendly, but not relaxed. Because today is the day the candidate must defend her thesis.

For eight long months, she has devoted herself to this intellectual adventure. She spent countless hours with her adviser homing in on a topic. She scoured the existing literature to see what other researchers discovered. Formulated a hypothesis. Cooked up an experiment. Fine-tuned the design.

Five days a week, she rose at dawn to put her rats through their paces. She tinkered with their reinforcement schedules, observed their behavior, even scrubbed their cages. She analyzed the results, pondered the implications, plunged into the sea of variables like a pearl-diver, and swam back to the surface carrying a precious treasure—a conclusion.

Now she has to justify her choices to a board of examiners. Has she mastered the scientific literature? Does her experiment provide a real test of her hypothesis? Is the design sound? Do the results make sense, or has some unknown factor rendered them meaningless? Has she reached a valid conclusion?

And perhaps most important, can she show why the question matters?

Over the last several years, I’ve had the privilege of observing several Reed students 2

Reed magazine june 2016

defend their theses (having infiltrated the proceedings under the guise of an “outside reader”). The topics have ranged from African famines to medieval French farces to the yellow fever epidemic of 1793. It’s not unusual for students to look a little stressed in the first few minutes (I snapped a pencil at my own oral exam back in 1990). After all, it can be kind of nervewracking to demonstrate your grasp of an entire field to the very professors who introduced you to the discipline.

Today’s exam opens simply enough, with questions about experimental design and the relevance of animal models in understanding human behavior. But soon we are in deeper waters—agency, racism, solitary confinement.

Does psychological theory operate from the top down, or from the bottom up?

And then something magical happens. We are no longer interrogators grilling a student.

We are all fellow explorers, comrades of the quest, confronting fundamental issues, and learning from each other.

Time runs short and we ask the candidate to wait outside, but there is no doubt; our decision is unanimous. We invite her back and offer our congratulations. The exam is over, but the journey is just beginning.

—CHRIS LYDGATE ’90

REED COLLEGE RELATIONS vice president, college relations

Hugh Porter director, communications & public affairs

Mandy Heaton director, alumni & parent relations

Mike Teskey director, development

Jan Kurtz Reed College is a private, independent, non-sectarian four-year college of liberal arts and sciences. Reed provides news of interest to alumni, parents, and friends. Views expressed in the magazine belong to their authors and do not necessarily represent officers, trustees, faculty, alumni, students, administrators, or anyone else at Reed, all of whom are eminently capable of articulating their own beliefs.

Reed (ISSN 0895-8564) is published quarterly, in March, June, September, and December, by the Office of Public Affairs at Reed College, 3203 SE Woodstock Boulevard, Portland, Oregon 97202.

Periodicals postage paid at Portland, Oregon.

Postmaster: Send address changes to Reed College, 3203 SE Woodstock Blvd., Portland OR 97202-8138.

Letters to Reed Write to us! We love getting mail from readers. Letters should be about Reed (and its alumni) or Reed (and its contents) and run no more than 300 words; subsequent replies may only run half the length of their predecessors. Our decision to print a letter does not imply any endorsement. Letters are subject to editing. (Beware the editor’s hatchet.) For contact information, look to your left. Read more letters and commentary at www.reed.edu/reed_magazine.

Starved for an Answer

Congratulations to the three Reedies who won a prize for their research on the “hunger hormone” ghrelin. Upon reading the story in Reed (March 2016) I was left with a powerful appetite for an answer to the question: how does one measure a rat’s remorse?

Creg Darby ’75 Portland Editor’s Note:

Sometimes a rat is just a rat.

Sculptor of the Surreal...

It was with great interest and enthusiasm that I read John Sheehy’s article on Xenia Kashevaroff Cage ’35. In my capacity as media specialist at Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle, I have just published what could almost be a companion piece on Cornish alumna Bonnie Bird, dancer with Martha Graham and director of dance at Cornish from 1937 to 1940. Bird and Xenia share many important connections.

During her years at Cornish, Bird was Merce Cunningham and Syvilla Fort’s teacher and it was she who hired John Cage as accompanist and composer for the department. She ran the program on the company model, and Xenia, who came to Cornish with Cage, designed sets for the group. In 1940, school founder Nellie Cornish was forced out, and Bird, Cage, and Xenia soon followed her out the door.

Cage’s first percussion orchestra was formed at Cornish. This work would lead to his groundbreaking work for prepared piano, “Bacchanale,” in 1939, which he composed for Syvilla Fort’s senior project.

Bird’s husband, Dr. Ralph Gundlach, a UW professor, was on an advisory panel for Reed in the ’40s. His daughter, Joan, entered Reed during that time, probably in 1947. In 1948, Bird taught the first of three intensive summer dance

courses at Reed that included full productions, some reworkings of her Cornish pieces. Her students at Reed included multifaceted Remy Charlip and actress Hope Lange.

Gundlach and Bird were closely connected to a number of leftist causes, and he was one of three tenured professors fired by UW in 1949 as the result of pressure from the red-baiting Canwell Commission.

Some Reedies of my vintage may remember seeing Cage play prepared piano in the commons.

Probably my first or second year, 1972–4. He returned the next year and performed again at the then Museum School near PSU. Maximilian Mark Bocek ’77 Cornish College of the Arts Seattle

... and Whacker of Flowerpots

I wanted to express my thanks for the March edition of Reed. I have to confess that I’m not a constant Reeder, but when I opened this last month’s issue, I saw my favorite photo of Xenia Kashevaroff Cage ’35. The next pleasure was John Sheehy’s article.

Xenia surely deserves far more than the two pages Reed gave her, and Sheehy’s fine

Photo by Edward Weston, 1931

“ . . . when I opened this last month’s issue, I saw my favorite photo of Xenia Kashevaroff Cage ’35. The next pleasure was John Sheehy’s article.” —Larry Frisch ’67 note—remarkably comprehensive given its length—was almost certainly edited with some severity. (Yes!—Ed.) Still, it’s surprising how little is known about this fascinating woman who, sadly, never rebounded from the breakup with Cage. She likely had been a difficult partner in the last years of their marriage, and Cage never hid from Xenia his attraction to men. Cage, Kashevaroff, and a young Merce Cunningham had all known each other in Seattle, and Xenia surely found Cunningham every bit as attractive as did Cage.

From faraway England, Susan Gilbert is assembling a much-needed biography, and this hopefully will position Xenia’s life even more clearly within the NY art scene. She was a longtime friend of the notoriously solitary Joseph Cornell, and worked closely with Duchamp on his famous La-Boîte-en-Valise series. Sheehy

identifies her father’s Aleutian Creole-Russian heritage, but space likely prohibited mention of her mother’s Tlingit identity (and her remarkable father’s fluency in the Tlingit language, as well as Russian and English). Father Andrew founded the Alaska State Museum, loaned Native artifacts to a Paris exhibition that fueled the surrealist movement, and vociferously opposed Canadian efforts to ban the potlatch and winter dance ceremonies which formed the social and economic basis of an extraordinarily rich coastal culture. His was nearly the only religious voice raised in opposition to Canadian cultural genocide. Potlatch raids and arrests “liberated” First Nations’ artifacts so that they could be sold to museums and private collectors. In recent years some have been repatriated.

Xenia was thought exotic by her admirers, and portrayed in that way in Weston’s photos (six of june 2016 Reed magazine

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her in the buff Xenia kept throughout her life).

Peggy Guggenheim included her in the 1943 Exhibition by 31 Women, an exhibition whose other contributors included Frida Kahlo, Djuna Barnes, Hedda Sterne, Dorothea Tanning, and Louise Nevelson. Xenia was an artist, if today a largely forgotten one. But Xenia was also a Native American. Just as African art was a key influence on cubism, so was North Coast Indian art on surrealism. As one surrealist effused following the Parisian exhibition of Father Kashevaroff’s artifacts, “We breathe in Alaska, we dream Tlingit, we make love in Haida totem poles.” And there she was in New York, a Tlingit from Alaska, the real thing.

Larry Frisch ’67 Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

Laurie, Laurie, Hallelujah

Last fall, without fanfare, Class Notes Editor Laurie Lindquist retired after 29 years at Reed. But a beautiful fanfare would be richly deserved (as, no doubt, is her retirement). Because for many years she has been the heart and soul of the magazine’s class notes and especially the pieces that are now called In Memoriam, many years of which can now be found online. For those of us who have lost someone from Reed and had something we needed to say about them, Laurie gave us the place to say it. Much of the time she herself found the people and the resources (the Oral History Project for one) to make a true memorial to the classmates we remember—and also gave us a sense of the essence and value of people we’d never heard of, but who were part of our community, and this was our chance to meet them.

It was a gift that brought a lot of healing with it, and we can only be grateful for her service, and wish her the very best in whatever she puts her mind—and her extraordinary heart—to next.

Cricket Parmalee ’67 David Casseres ’65 Hear, Hear! Laurie’s contributions to the magazine are legion (and legendary), and she has probably written and edited more words about Reed and Reed alumni than anyone alive. We are heartbroken to see her go but happy that she will now have time to pursue her various pursuits.

Editor’s Note:

Loosen Up. Festoon!

This is the third time that I’ve written you a letter, this one sparked by having just now read John Sheehy’s nicely written and sober review of the new biography of Philip Whalen ’51 by David Schneider ’73, Crowded by Beauty. I would like to offer a more enthusiastic perspective.

The first of my three letters was written in 1972 when I was living at the Tassajara Zen monastery not long after graduating from Reed in “philosophy & religion.” For identification pur4

Reed magazine june 2016

poses, should one of my surviving comrades read this, I was “Ricky Levine” at Reed. Then known as “Rick” for four decades, now “Rickety.” (Recall the riddle of the sphinx?)

On a cold gray rainy mountain day in the winter of ’72 I received the Reed alumni news at Tassajara and was reflecting with my dharma brothers Phil Whalen and Patrick McMahon ’69 at the news of illustrious attainments. Everyone was enjoying great success in business, enrollment in prestigious universities, advanced degrees, impressive titles. With Phil’s encouragement I sent you our news: “Rick Levine and Patrick McMahon are sorting rocks as to small, middling, and large for an esoteric fringe group in the California wilderness.”

Despite suffering a lifelong “poetical indisposition,” Phil had an air of bemused dignity and quiet authority. In the “tea area” there was a pegboard where everyone kept their coffee/tea mug.

A strip of masking tape served as label to identify the owner. Mine said “Rick,” Patrick’s said “Pat.” Phil’s said “Philip G. Whalen, B.A.” (I for one read an allusion to Joyce’s Ulysses here). Phil lived, as we all do, in many worlds. Literature was prominent among them, and resonant echoes of language, spoken and literary, resounded in his daily life and society. As Schneider chronicles, Phil was awarded the BA in literature from Reed College in 1951, not without considerable travail.

My second letter was composed some few years later. It was a protest against the disestablishment of calligraphy at Reed as a central, accredited, and emblematic course offering.

I, like Phil before me, was a student (disciple even) and advisee of Prof. Lloyd J. Reynolds [English and art, 1929-69], from whom I learned to read books, one after another, and several at the same time. I learned the history of the alphabet, the Perennial Philosophy, and how to cut & operate a pen using a reed and a pen-knife.

(I had the good fortune to study under Father Robert Palladino as well.) A friend showed to the poet Robert Creeley a letter that I had written her. He glanced and commented, so she told me, “oh yeah, Reed-writing”. In more ways than one.

And now this, my third letter. Crowded By Beauty, David Schneider’s biography of Philip, is brilliantly written, and a lifeline he’s tossed to save whoever’s around to catch it—a rope braided with Phil’s personal and poetry histories; the history of “the Beats,” both East Coast and especially their West Coast iterations; with Friendship and friendships; with the Reed Poets’ lineage and their Pacific Northwest background; with Professor Lloyd Reynolds’s influence and the Portland revival of calligraphy & handwriting; with Buddhism; with Buddhism in America; with the authoritative self-Secret Oral Teachings of Buddhism; with how to read a poem (and the latter not just for slow learners and the dim-witted, but a primer for guys just like me, for me!).

David has the deep, credible expertise to

rob lee

Letters to Reed

Philip Whalen ’51, San Francisco, 1988

illuminate all these strands, not least because he attended Reed, knows the ground where Phil’s life as a poet began, and is uniquely situated to have produced this stunning book. He is an accomplished calligrapher himself, in both Roman alphabets and Siddham script, an acharya (teacher) in the Shambhala lineage of Tibetan Buddhism, and a shuso-level priest (“Head Monk”) in Zen Buddhism. He is the author of a previous outstanding biography of the flamboyant cross-dressing Zen adept named Issan Dorsey, titled Street Zen, in which Issan’s wild early life is lovingly depicted as well as his founding of a prominent, still-flourishing San Francisco AIDS hospice called Maitri, where Issan later died of the disease. Most of all David was a Boswell to Phil’s Samuel Johnson—he had intimate personal contact with Phil over decades. In the spirit of disclosure, I’ll add that Phil was my mentor, dharma friend, patient, role model. And David Schneider, also my friend, my kalyanamitra (Buddhist practice ally), has re-animated his creative living presence.

Finally, since I’m going on and on, I want to convey my good will to the Reed community. It’s no accident that Patrick (“Patroclus”) McMahon, distinguished Evergreen State College professor Sam Schrager ’70, and I have been meeting regularly for 10 years by monthly telephone conference to discuss our reading. Our salon has gone through Proust, some of Kafka, and now Joyce. These discussions have roots in the shared vocabulary of our undergraduate humanities conferences.

Richard N. Levine ’70, BA, MD Oakland, California Editor’s Note: Thanks, Rick, for this epic epistle. Father Palladino died this spring (see page 38) but helped revive calligraphy at Reed through the Cooley Gallery’s Calligraphy Initiative. Read more on our website.

Uptrends?

DownTrends?

WHY NOT MORE FULFILLING ENDS? Give appreciated stock to Reed and receive fixed payments for life.

Sure, it’s great!

When you establish a charitable gift annuity at Reed with a gift of cash or appreciated stock, you can take advantage of multiple benefits—including life income, a charitable tax deduction, and reduced capital gains tax—and still provide substantial support to the college.

Call Audrey Anderson at 503/517-7937 or email plannedgiving@reed.edu. To learn more, visit our website at reed.edu/cga.

Eliot Circular news from campus

Reed to Launch Computer Science Program

nina johnson ’99

Reed’s digital footprint will grow by an order of magnitude next year with the launch of a fully fledged computer science program.

With $5 million in fundraising for endowments nearly complete, the college will hire two new tenure-track professors, offer deeper and more advanced coursework to a wider range of students, and establish a major in computer science.

Combined with other recent initiatives—such as computational biology and the Software Design Studio—Reed aims to build an outstanding program that provides students from all kinds of backgrounds an unparalleled opportunity to master this dynamic field.

“I’m thrilled that we will now be able to support a complete computer science program, not just to meet the demand, but to provide a variety of new experiences for our students,” said Prof. Jim Fix [math 1999–].

Reed has a long and proud tradition of computing, but students’ ravenous intellectual appetite for the subject is overtaxing current resources. Since 2007, the number of students enrolled in the intro computer science course has soared from 34 to 102.

“The demand for computer science among Reed students is immense,” said President John Kroger.

The CS initiative was made possible by a surge of support totaling nearly $5 million from alumni, foundations, and other donors. This includes $2.5 million from anonymous donors; $1 million from Reed Trustee Kurt DelBene and Suzan DelBene ’83; $500,000 from Microsoft; and support from many other generous alumni, friends, and parents, notably Aldus PageMaker innovator David Walter. Out of this fundraising effort, a chair in computer science was created and named in honor of the legendary Prof.

Richard Crandall ’69 [physics 1978–2012].

Reed will formally launch the program in September 2017. Several elements are already in place, however, including multiple courses in computer science, computational biology, digital art, and internet culture. As previously reported, alumni have also provided startup funding for the Software Design Studio, which provides students with mentors and hands-on coding experience.

Roughly 10 percent of Reed’s working alumni hold jobs in the field of computer technology. Women comprise more than half of the students in Reed’s new twocourse introductory computer science sequence and its Software Design Studio. —CHRIS LYDGATE ’90 GO DIGITAL. Prof. Jim Fix brings in ’da function.

june 2016 Reed magazine

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chris lydgate ’90

Eliot Circular

Hell’s Bells!

Physics Major Invents New Musical Instrument Physics major Evan Peairs ’16 built a new kind of bell for his senior thesis using an innovative design that is capable, in theory, of generating musical tones never previously achieved by a percussive instrument.

Evan’s instrument—which is related to a musical family known as the bell plate— consists of a slab of aluminum carved in an otherworldly shape that resembles a mutant unicorn. When you strike it with your finger, however, it rings with the sweet, reverent chime of a church bell.

Using the acoustical wizardry he developed for his thesis, he is now designing bell plates that sound like a gong, a xylophone, and a woodblock. “And I’m working on one that sounds like a trumpet,” he adds, showing a visitor around a laboratory bristling with lasers, mirrors, wires, and pipes.

Evan has a longstanding interest in obscure musical instruments, and originally thought of writing his thesis on the acoustics of church bells. But it turns out that church bells are expensive and difficult to make. So he began to investigate other instruments, including bell plates—rectangular sheets of metal which sound vaguely like gongs.

One day he asked himself what would happen if he changed the shape of the plate. “I

Ticking Away The Spanish department was proud to host an international conference on time and temporality in April, welcoming the inaugural congress of LALISA, the Latin American, Latino, and Iberian Studies Association of the Pacific Northwest.

Titled “New Temporal Regimes in Literature, History, and the Social Sciences,” the conference featured a wealth of ideas, including panels on Jorge Luis Borges and the labyrinths of time, the Andean world,

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Reed magazine june 2016

thought it was kind of strange that bell plates were always rectangular,” he says. “Nobody ever thought to change the contour.”

It turns out that changing the contour has a striking effect on the tone. Using an engineering technique known as structural optimization, Evan set about designing a bell plate that sounded just like a church bell.

“This project was completely Evan’s own idea and I feel like I’ve been on a super fun, wild ride with him all year,” says his thesis advisor, Prof. John Essick [physics 1993–].

“A few months ago, Evan brought back the flat plate from the machine shop that he had cut into a shape that looked like a fanciful misshaped unicorn and said that his computer simulation had predicted that it would vibrate just like a church bell. When he flicked it with his finger and it sounded exactly like a church bell, I was stunned. I thought, ‘Wow, this crazy, whimsical idea actually works.’”

baroque temporality, tango, Latin American hip hop, and many others.

Keynote speakers included Julio Premat of the Université de Paris VIII, María Ochoa of Columbia University, and Julia Bryan-Wilson of UC-Berkeley. The congress was organized by the inimitable Prof. Diego Alonso [Spanish], and featured many Reed speakers, including Prof. Mónica

Evan wasn’t satisfied, however. “The church bell was a good target to start with,” he says. “But once I figured it out, I asked myself, ‘Why stop there?’”

By altering the contour, he can make instruments with all kinds of voices, from the hollow thunk of a xylophone to the sunburst cadence of a pipe organ.

After turning in his thesis, Evan learned that a team of researchers from Harvard, Columbia, MIT, and Disney had independently developed a very similar concept last year. “Sorry that I didn’t find out about this before,” he told us. “But at least now we have a team from Harvard, MIT, and Columbia to confirm that it was a good idea.”

Evan’s thesis is titled Designing, Building, and Testing Novel Musical Instruments. After Reed, he plans to look for a job in robotics.

“I want to build things to help the world,” he says. —CHRIS LYDGATE ’90

López Lerma [Spanish], Prof. Daniel Duford [art], Prof. David Garrett [history], Prof. Libby Drumm [Spanish], Prof. Ariadna García-Bryce [Spanish], Prof. C hristian Kroll [Spanish], Prof. Sharon Larisch [Spanish], Prof. Morgan Luker [music], Prof. Victoria Fortuna [dance], Charlie Hankin ’11, language scholar Bárbara Caballero, and Spanish major Clay Wilwol ’16.

CONCERT & EVENT SERIES 2016 Prof. Suzy Renn (left) won NSF grant.

Zebrafish and “Driver” Genes Three Reed biology professors won significant grants this spring, continuing a remarkable string of success for the biology department.

Prof. Kara Cerveny [2012-] won an $80,000 grant from the M.J. Murdock Charitable Trust to investigate neurogenesis—the process by which neurons are generated—in zebrafish. This is part of a collaborative grant with two other principal investigators at Whitworth University and Lewis & Clark College; the total amount awarded to all three institutions is $240,000.

The Collaborative Research Alliance Pilot Initiative will establish a virtual “Center for Excellence” in the Pacific Northwest. The overall goal of this project is to study the mechanisms underlying cell specification behavior during neurogenesis in developing embryos.

Prof. Suzy Renn [2006-] won a $57,000 grant from the National Science Foundation to organize the BRAIN STEM workshop, which brought together professors and students from colleges around the nation to discuss the role of undergraduate research and education toward the national BRAIN Initiative.

Prof. Anna Ritz [2015-] won a $41,500 grant from the M.J. Murdock Charitable Trust to develop computational methods to identify “driver” genes whose mutations may be responsible for cancer progression.

These grants come on the heels of several others announced last year. Prof. Suzy Renn won a $618,000 grant from the NSF; Prof. Erik Zornik [2012-] won a $444,000 grant from the NIH; Prof. Todd Schlenke [2013-] won a $373,000 grant from the NIH; and Prof. Jay Mellies [1999-] won a $362,769 grant from the NIH.

All events are free and open to the public unless otherwise noted.

More information is available at reed.edu/tango.

TUESDAY, JUNE 21

FRIDAY, JUNE 24

La Peña de Reed 8 P.M.

The Future of Tango, Today

STUDENT UNION

8:30 P.M.

Tango open mic night and jam session.

ELIOT HALL CHAPEL

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22

Tangos for Two

Concert featuring student ensembles.

SATURDAY, JUNE 25

8 P.M.

Le Grand Tango

ELIOT HALL CHAPEL

8 P.M.

Concert featuring duos by members of the artistic faculty.

KAUL AUDITORIUM

Tango on Film 9:30 P.M. PERFORMING ARTS

Concert featuring works by Piazzolla and original works.

Preceded by a musical conversation with performers at 7 p.m.

BUILDING 320

Screening of the documentary Cafe de los Maestros by Miguel Kohan.

THURSDAY, JUNE 23

Tango Dance Class 7:30 P.M. STUDENT UNION

Dance workshop led

by Alex Krebs ’99 ($15).

Milonga and Open Mic 9 P.M. STUDENT UNION

Featuring live music by student ensembles.

Tickets available from Chamber Music Northwest (cmnw.org).

Milonga with Live Music 9:30 P.M. STUDENT UNION

Featuring live tango music for dancing.

elusive icon materializes... in shackles!

Fowl Play

The Doyle Owl materialized on the lawn in front of Eliot Hall in April, drawing a throng of students eager to witness its apparition—and plot its abduction.

There was, however, a hitch: the Owl was chained to the flagpole, severely constricting its freedom of movement. Fortunately, an enterprising student managed to acquire a reciprocating saw and cut through its unseemly bonds. Once liberated, the Owl became the center of an

epic free-for-all as competing factions attempted to tug the concrete talisman to and fro. As the brawl intensified, a student sprinkled a liquid alleged to be cougar urine on the crowd, but the jar was unceremoniously wrested from his grasp and poured over his head, to the delight of the assembled multitude.

The Owl emerged from the fracas unscathed and reappeared on the eve of Renn Fayre, but was soon whisked away and remains at large.

Three Profs Get Tenure

Prof. Sarah Schaack [biology] Sarah Schaack [biology 2011-] is a genomist known for her teaching style that relies on examples from primary literature, current events, humor, and metaphor. Her courses include introduction to biology; genes, genetics and genomes, and mobile DNA. Schaack specializes in mutation and mobile DNA, and her current projects include studies of genome evolution in rattlesnakes (Crotalus mitchelli) and water fleas (Daphnia pulex).

About Reed she says, “I don’t know of a better environment at the undergraduate level to study biology. The dedication to student learning, student involvement and the respect between professors and students to work with each other is unparalleled; I’ve never seen anything like it.” Schaack, who speaks Spanish and KiSwahili, often teaches outside the classroom and laboratory, taking students on off-campus research trips near and far, in the US and East Africa. As a Fulbright Scholar in 2013-14, Schaack coordinated a genome sequencing project with collaborators in Nairobi, Kenya. She received her PhD in Biology from Indiana University, MS in Zoology from University of Florida, and a BA in Biology from Earlham College.

tom humphrey

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leah nash

alex krafcik

Prof. Morgan Luker [music] Morgan Luker joined the music department in 2010 as Reed’s first ethnomusicologist.

His research focuses on the cultural politics of Latin American music, with special emphasis on contemporary tango music in Buenos Aires, Argentina. “We often think that aesthetics are just aesthetics, or that a musical style is just a musical style, but music in fact carries a tremendous range of meanings and functions, serving as both a symbol and generator of other forces in social life and history,” he says.

Luker teaches courses in music and politics, the cultural study of music, Latin American music, and sound studies. He says, “I do everything I can to show students how they can participate in—and not just observe—the scholarly issues and debates that matter to them.

That seems like the most empowering thing I can do for them given my position, and I end up learning a lot from them as well.”

In 2013 he launched the annual Tango for Musicians at Reed College, which has grown to be North America’s leading tango workshop for musicians. Prof. Luker earned a B.A. in music history from the University of Wisconsin and an M.A. and Ph.D. in ethnomusicology from Columbia University.

Prof. Nick Wilson ’99 [economics] Nick Wilson ’99 first came to Reed as an undergrad, where he took a class with Prof.

Denise Hare [economics 1992-], a class, he says, that changed the way he sees the world.

Now, he studies fundamental puzzles about human behavior using economics as a conceptual framework, primarily in the context of health and development. Can drought affect domestic violence? Why do people put off minor medical procedures like vaccinations because of inconvenience or discomfort— even when the procedures are proven to save lives and reduce illness?

Wilson has recently received grants to conduct studies to examine such questions through the lens of economics in SubSaharan Africa and Zambia. After earning his BA in economics from Reed, he went on to receive his MA and PhD in Economics from Brown University, and an MPA in International Development from the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University. “Reed students bring a healthy dose of skepticism. They don’t just believe what you tell them. You have to convince them. They push back,” he says.

Empire of the Griffin Connecting Reed alumni AROUND the globe

World Bank finds its funny bone The World Bank is a serious place, tasked with a serious mission— to eliminate extreme poverty.

However on a blustery day in February, the world’s only standup economist was invited to liven things up at the institution’s headquarters in Washington, DC. “I only have one thing going for me as a stand-up economist,” declares Yoram Bauman ’95.

“And that’s low expectations.”

Sporting a fiery red “Enjoy Capitalism” t-shirt, Yoram, an environmental economist from the University of Washington, was invited to poke fun at the dismal science before a packed audience, the majority of whom are fervent followers of the discipline

(plus a dozen Reedies who somehow infiltrated the event).

Harking back to his initial success of parodying Greg Mankiw’s 10 principles of economics, which has surpassed 1 million views on YouTube, Yoram did a routine on “the funniest papers in the history of economics.” One that garnered a lot of laughs was a paper by Avinash Dixit, (who had just started his job as a visiting research scholar at the World Bank that very day), which Yoram described as “an option value problem from Seinfield.” Published in Economic Inquiry, the abstract of the paper simply states “This is a paper about nothing.”

Yoram Bauman ’95 (brandishing Griffin) and DC Reedies infiltrate World Bank.

Yoram ended on a solemn note about climate change and his ongoing work on a carbon tax swap, which will be on the ballot in November in Washington state. He also described British Columbia’s carbon tax in a classic Reedie fashion—with a Haiku:

Fossil CO2 $30 for each ton Revenue neutral Check out the video of the talk, as well as his latest book The Cartoon Introduction to Climate Change.

—NISMA ELIAS ’12

Calling Reed Writers The award-winning Oregon author Clyde Rice published his first book, A Heaven in the Eye, at the age of 81. He begins the book by telling how in his youth he stole the Reed College swimming pool. The stories get only more bizarre and exciting as he describes the bohemian history of Portland and San Francisco during the first half of the 1900s.

Born in 1903, Clyde grew up in Portland not far from Reed. At the age of 78, he went in search of someone to help him publish his autobiographical writings and found Gary Miranda, Reed’s writer-in-residence at the time, who became his editor. Gary in turn found James Anderson ’77 of Breitenbush Books, and the upshot was A Heaven in the Eye, Nordi’s Gift, and a novella, Night Freight. During his long life, Clyde worked as an imitation flavoring salesman, logger, fisherman, and ferry boat deckhand. To

some extent he failed at every one of those endeavors, but managed to turn his experiences into vivid and awardwinning prose.

Near the end of his life, Clyde decided to dedicate the rammed earth house he built on the Clackamas River to be a place for others who have big ideas and dreams. So Gary and Aron Faegre ’71 banded together with other caring souls (including Patty Cassidy, a former career counselor at Reed, and Mike Hayakawa ’78) to found the non-profit Friends of Clyde Rice, which now owns the property.

The Rice Place is now an active retreat for people needing a quiet and special place to do creative work. Aron and Gary heartily invite alumni, students, and faculty to use the property as a retreat for a few days or weeks to work on creative projects. See www.

ClydeRice.org for the calendar of openings.

PLUG IN Connect with Reed and Reed alumni!

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Don’t miss out! Be sure that your email address is up to date in IRIS so that you receive our enewsletter. When special events and opportunities become available on short notice, the only way for us to communicate quickly is via electronic channels!

june 2016 Reed magazine 11

Life Beyond Reed Our recurring series explores how the liberal arts shape the careers of Reed grads. For more, check out www.reed.edu/beyond-reed.

Michelle Nijhuis ’96 Freelance Journalist

Fishers of the Yakama Nation. A new map of the Arctic. The history of wildfires. Volcanic eruptions. Dams on the Mekong River. Ada Lovelace. “Clean coal.” Dust. Snow. Fire. Bats. Michelle has one of the most fascinating jobs you could imagine—writing about science and the environment for National Geographic, the New Yorker, the Smithsonian, and a host of other publications.

She lives in the heart of the spectacular Columbia Gorge and is also the coeditor of The Science Writers’ Handbook.

Thesis: “Home Range of the

Cascade Torrent salamander (Rhyacotriton cascadae) and Its Implications for Conservation.”

Adviser: Prof. Bob Kaplan [bio 1983–2015] How did you get where you are? After graduation I spent

a couple of years working as a field assistant on wildlife research projects in the Southwest and California.

I was looking for a way to combine science with my interest in writing. Then I happened into an internship at High Country News, a magazine that covers environmental issues in the Western U.S. It was love at first draft. HCN was my graduate school in journalism—like many (but certainly not all) journalists, I learned most of what I know on the job. I spent four years on staff there and have been a full-time freelance journalist since 2002. I continue to write and edit for HCN as a contributing editor.

What do you like about your field? I love the process

of “translating” science and knotty conservation issues for a popular audience, and I love the haphazard, lifelong education that I get as a working journalist.

What lessons have you learned? I’ve had to learn

a lot about how good journalism happens, and how it can continue to happen at a time of great and continuing disruption within the profession. I’ve also had to learn a lot about how independent journalists (and other creative types) can keep themselves sane and solvent in the long run.

What else should we know about you? I lived off the

electrical grid for 15 years in rural Colorado before returning to the Pacific Northwest in 2013. My husband, Jack, and I have a seven-year-old daughter who is convinced that Bilbo Baggins is a girl. I manage the stress of covering climate change through frequent bouts of British television.

Is journalism a good field for Reedies? Yes, because Reedies

rarely care about getting rich!

Seriously, I think the breadth of the Reed curriculum does give grads a sense that they can learn something about anything—and for journalists, that’s an essential skill. We’re serial experts and professional amateurs, always poking around where we have no business being.

Legislative Director for U.S. Senator Al Franken

Political turmoil in his native Iran in the 1980s compelled Ali’s family to immigrate to Oregon when he was 11. Back then he never considered a career in politics; he majored in biology at Reed and earned a doctorate in molecular biology at Princeton. He found his calling in public policy, working for the United Nations before moving to Washington D.C. as a science adviser to U.S. Sen. Jim Webb. He is now legislative director for U.S. Sen. Al Franken of Minnesota.

Thesis: “Setting the Limit on

Neuropeptide Transport Rate in the Bag Cells of A. californica.”

Adviser: Prof. Steve Arch [bio 1972–2012] Why did you choose Reed?

We didn’t hop in the car to road-trip to visit colleges. I applied to Reed because of its good reviews and rankings.

I remember a conversation with my dad saying one of my cousins attended and went on to be a doctor, so Reed was a good school.

What was your experience at Reed? I switched majors from

sociology to biology. I liked the analytical aspects of science— designing and working on experiments in a lab, the joy of discovery. More than anything else, Reed encouraged me to ask questions and not accept anything at face value.

You were going to be a scientist…Why did you change course? My first job after Reed

was working as a lab technician at Oregon Health & Science University. I took some night classes, got my name on some publications, and applied to grad school.

At Princeton I would attend lectures on economics, political science, that sort of thing. I was discovering a bigger world around me—a process that really started at Reed. I realized I didn’t want to spend my career studying the interactions between two proteins in a cell— something that is genuinely

fascinating and extremely important—and instead decided to use my experience and expertise in science in making public policy.

Did your experiences growing up in Iran also influence your choice of career? Politics

changed the course of my life.

Growing up in Iran during a time of turmoil, we were constantly discussing current affairs, and so I became very aware of the power of politics and the importance of strong leadership and sound public policy. That’s why it’s great to work on Capitol Hill. I work on a wide range of issues, from health care to foreign affairs.

Would you recommend a career in politics for a liberalarts graduate? I’m a big believer

in a liberal arts education because it gives you the tools you can apply to just about any career. Especially in this economy, where people change careers every five years or so, you need a solid foundation.

Reed was terrific in that way, and really taught me to be open to new things. I developed a strong sense of curiosity, and not only in my own field of study. I learned what it was like to get out of your comfort zone.

I never would have predicted it at the time, but I’m doing what I’m doing because of Reed.

p h o t o s b y m at t d 'a n n u n z i o

Ali Nouri ’97

Happy Birthday, MALS! Reed’s unique master’s program celebrates fifty years One of Portland’s hidden gems—Reed’s Master of Arts in Liberal Studies program— celebrates five decades this year.

In contrast to the national trend of offering master’s degrees in increasingly specialized fields, MALS was born as a sort of intellectual deepening—but for teachers.

Formally established on December 6, 1966, MALS was originally intended to complement Reed’s Master of Arts in Teaching (MAT) program. While the MAT was designed to prepare college grads to teach high school, MALS was aimed at people who already had a teaching certificate and at least one year of teaching experience.

The program was designed to a) increase mastery of subject matter in their teaching field and b) promote greater professional competence through the study of education and provide a broader background in the liberal arts and sciences.

The MALS program was launched

with the support of the National Science Foundation, the Danforth Foundation, and the Ford Foundation, and attracted a strong cohort of students. From 1968 to 1972 there were 91 MALS grads.

In the early ’70s, however, the Ford and Danforth Foundations pulled out of the program, for reasons that remain unclear. Without this financial support, Reed stopped actively recruiting students and relegated the program to the back burner. Enrollment dwindled: from 1973 to 1982 there were only 32 MALS grads.

Interestingly, however, the program was beginning to draw students from outside the teaching profession.

A faculty committee, chaired by Prof.

Gail Kelly ’55 [anthropology 1960–2000], was asked to review the program, and, on February 14, 1980, submitted a memorandum to President Paul Bragdon that stated, “The MALS program was and it remains, in

principle, a legitimate and desirable undertaking of the College.” The committee was cognizant that the most recent participants of the MALS program had not necessarily been teachers, as was the case earlier, and that “whatever the future of the program, it should be mindful of the new demands and interests that will be represented by a more diverse constituency.” The committee concluded with the observation that There appears to be a need for a post-baccalaureate program in the Portland area, one which does not have a specific vocational or professional orientation, which is flexible and which provides students with an opportunity to develop new goals, prepare for new courses in the most general way, and to enlarge their intellectual horizons in the same way that the liberal arts education serves to educate undergraduates.

Why MALS?

“Reed is the perfect place to widen your world view and soak up knowledge. The professors are incredibly knowledgeable and I have benefitted greatly from class discussions with other MALS students, who come from diverse backgrounds and specialties. Reed transports me out of my day-to-day stressful commitments and the intellectual stimulation is exhilarating.”

Wendy Herrin MALS ’15 High School English Teacher

14 Reed magazine june 2016

is the Reed tradition, an attitude and an accomplishment in which faculty excel, and that distinguishes the undergraduate and this graduate program.”

The MALS program today models the essence of a liberal arts education with its interdisciplinary approach and focus on the development of critical thinking, writing, and speaking skills. As such, the program expands Reed’s academic mission to an adult population of lifelong learners.

All MALS courses are accessible to the generalist and have no prerequisites. The most fundamental and abiding characteristic of students in the program is the desire to learn for its own sake. While the MALS degree does not lead explicitly to professional development, certification, or a specific career direction, it can prepare students for a range of career options and further study. At base, the program has the potential to alter students’ lives significantly as they develop

photos by leah nash

To carry out these goals, the college formed a new committee on graduate studies, chaired by Prof. John Leadley [math 1956–93], in 1982. Toinette Menashe [MALS ’72] was appointed director of the program—a position in which she served until her retirement in January 1995, at which time Barbara Amen took over the directorship.

Last year, the college engaged outside reviewers to assess the program. The reviewers praised MALS as “a robust and important” program in a city with very few similar offerings.

“Many of the outstanding processes and practices that are in place at Reed College have been adapted to the graduate program to excellent effect,” the reviewers continued, citing Reed’s conference style, student advising, intensive degree paper, and the rigorous oral examination. “Overall, such thoughtful engagement with students’ educations

MALS director Barbara Amen

confidence in their intellectual strengths, hone their analytic and communication skills, and develop their powers of reflection and judgment in a supportive atmosphere of critical response and exchange.

GO FURTHER

www.reed.edu/MALS/

Why MALS?

“For perhaps obvious reasons, rather narrow, instrumental thinking tends to dominate pretty much everything in my professional world. However, I believe this also characterizes our modern culture more broadly. And that’s a serious problem. In Reed College’s MALS program I have had the opportunity to re-envision scholarship as a practice that engages in a broad range of values and a refreshing diversity of questions. Thanks to conversations in conference classes with truly insightful classmates and incredibly gifted teachers, I’m enjoying what is nothing short of a personal intellectual renaissance.”

Neil Ramiller MALS ’17 Professor of Management, PSU School of business

june 2016 Reed magazine 15

Summer Fellows Span the Globe

BY ANNA MANN

Seven students have won the President’s Summer Fellowship for outstanding projects that combine intellectual pursuit, imagination, adventure, personal transformation, and service to the greater good.

Inaugurated by President John R. Kroger, with generous support from trustee Dan Greenberg ’62 and his wife, Susan Steinhauser, the fellowship attracts scores of creative proposals every year. The winners are awarded $5,000 each to pursue projects during the summer of 2016.

16 Reed magazine june 2016

Environmental Influence on Animal Phenotypes Rose Driscoll ’17, biology

Environment has a large effect on phenotype, impacting traits as fundamental as reproductive roles. Since last summer, I’ve been working on a project to determine the mechanisms of environmental (pH-based) behavioral phenotype and sex determination in a cichlid fish species, P. pulcher. This summer, I will travel to the University of Alberta in Edmonton, Canada, to work with a researcher on the behavioral side of the project, as part of an international collaboration. By manipulating the water conditions fry are exposed to, I hope to reveal sex- and morph-specific patterns in methylation (an epigenetic marking), determine the timing of pattern establishment, and establish methylation of the aromatase gene cyp19a1 as the mechanism for pH-based environmental sex determination in P. pulcher.

Deep Neural Networks and the Search for New Particle Physics Phenomena Kaustuv Datta ’17, physics

The last few decades have been instrumental in furthering our understanding of the universe at all spatial scales.

The Large Hadron Collider (LHC) at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) is pushing particle physics exploration into the unknown. Highenergy proton collisions produce huge amounts of data, at ever increasing rates. This calls for more efficient methods to identify and classify interesting events for further investigation. I will work with Prof. Maria Spiropulu of Caltech and Dr. Maurizio Pierini of CERN on the development of a deep neural network, a kind of artificialintelligence algorithm, to analyze data from the Compact Muon Solenoid experiment on the LHC, with the aim of optimizing the search for new particles, such as a heavier copy of the recently discovered Higgs boson or candidates for dark matter. The success of our work could potentially provide a new way to analyze data from colliders, by using similar algorithms to run unsupervised analyses—that is to say, analyses that don’t require human input—at the frontier of particle physics research. This would be the first step toward a paradigm shift in high energy data analysis.

Storytelling and Sense of Place in Spain Guanani Gomez-Van Cortright ’18, biology

What gives a city its distinct character and sense of place?

Placemaking is an essential human endeavor, and the confluence of physical space, local folklore, and the movement of people makes urban communities ever-changing expressions of home. For my project I will visit four cities in four different provinces of Spain (Granada in Andalucia, Barcelona in Cataluña, Bilbao in Basque Country, and the autonomous capital of Madrid) and interact with local people, museums, landscapes, and architecture to familiarize myself with each place’s culture and history and discover its stories. Spain is made up of several distinct provinces, some of which have their own languages and culture and have pushed for autonomy from the central Spanish government for decades. After visiting each of the four cities, I will write fictional short stories based on the people, locations, and situations I encountered as a way to explore what makes each city uniquely itself.

History and Memory in Southwest Ireland Isabel Lyndon ’17, history

My great-grandmother Christie Sullivan was born in County Kerry, Ireland, in the small rural parish of Beaufort, in 1908. In the years before Christie immigrated to the United States, Ireland underwent a civil war and achieved independence from Britain.

My great-grandmother left for Boston in 1924, and seven years later, she found herself unmarried and pregnant with my grandfather. She took care of him for several years before putting him into the care of the Catholic Charitable Bureau. What my family knows of Christie—of her job in a hotel, her bobbed hair, and her sense of style— we’ve learned from Boston social workers’ reports and firsthand accounts from her family. This summer, I will travel to Kerry, Cork, and Dublin, where I will write a series of creative nonfiction essays about Ireland from 1908 to 1924. Using the Cork and Kerry archives, as well as the Irish Film Archive, which houses the films that the American Kalem Company shot in Kerry when Christie was a teenager, I will attempt to reconstruct the world Christie grew up in. I hope to write a history that is as much about the gaps in knowledge as it is about the factual, the data-based, or the provable.

I will publish a chapbook of these essays upon my return.

The Insider’s Perspective on Microfinance

The Dhammasukha Monastery Teaching Project

Florence Randari ’17, economics

Jasmine Williams ’17, English

Microfinance is a growing industry in developing countries, despite the ongoing debate among scholars on whether it helps alleviate poverty or actually does more harm than good. There are claims that unscrupulous lenders take advantage of poor people’s limited access to financial services by lending money at high interest rates while slapping the label “microfinance” on their actions. This summer, I will deepen my understanding of microfinance in Tanzania as an intern with African Microfinance Limited. I will work closely with clients seeking to apply for small loans. I believe that a personal experience in the field will help me apply the theoretical knowledge I have learned in my classes as well as equip me with firsthand experience on the impacts of microfinance and poverty alleviation. As I plan to explore the topic in my thesis next year, and I am interested in international development, this internship provides an experience that will help me in the future with my career goals.

I have the amazing opportunity to teach children at a Buddhist monastery in Mingaladon, Myanmar. This invitation comes from my family’s monk, who has known me since I was a small child. My mother immigrated to the U.S. from Myanmar when she was 13 years old, and has made sure to stay in contact with her Burmese community. I have been part of this community for a long time, but have never visited Myanmar. Over the summer, I will travel to the monastery, set up an English-language library there, and teach English alongside my monk.

I want my teaching to help these students attain a passion for learning and an insatiable curiosity that propels them to pursue education.

Through my experiences, I hope to gain a better understanding of working with children to aid my future endeavors as an educator.

Exploring Immigration in Spain Jordan Wynne ’17, political science

Over the past 30 years, Spain has become a progressive immigration state. Both policymakers and the majority of the public in Spain believe that allowing immigrants into the country is good for the economy and represents democratic values.

I will investigate the policies that serve as the foundation for the progressive immigration stance Spain holds, analyzed through the lens of comparative politics between Spain and the United States.

For my project, I will travel to Barcelona to intern with Alicia Osés, the managing partner of the Lawyers in Barcelona firm, to focus on immigration law in Spain. I will be a paralegal helping clients to secure visas and permanent resident applications, and working with refugees and asylum-seekers. Much of what makes Spain so open to immigration is its dedication to streamlining the naturalization and visa process.

Through this experience, I will gain an intimate understanding of these streamlining laws and be able to compare them to U.S. policies on immigration.

june 2016 Reed magazine 17

The Age of Gunpowder Why did China’s military technology fall behind the West?

BY MILES BRYAN ’13

Look up at the night sky over Shanghai during the new year’s celebrations and you might struggle to see any stars—they’re completely blotted out by the radiant flares of fireworks by the thousand. The festivities can get so intense that Shanghai and several other cities last year had to ban the pyrotechnics within city limits.

China is famous for being the birthplace of fireworks—and the gunpowder that makes them go bang—but is less well known for the invention of guns. In fact, the Chinese were experimenting with gunpowder’s deadly potential as early as the 10th century; Europe, on the other hand, didn’t adopt gunpowder weapons until the 1300s. But around 1750, Europe raced ahead, in a phenomenon scholars call the Great Divergence. By the time Britain and China clashed in the first Opium War in 1839, the Chinese were hopelessly outgunned. Which raises the question: why did China, which had such a commanding head start in arms craft, ultimately fall so behind?

That’s the issue Tonio Andrade ’92 seeks to address in his well-researched and sharplywritten new book, The Gunpowder Age: China, Military Innovation, and the Rise of the West in World History. Historians have traditionally blamed China’s military fizzle on an insular

imperial culture. China, the thinking goes, year. In 1522 a new Portuguese fleet arrived at China’s southern coast, seeking to mend was held back by a Confucian philosophy relations. The Chinese weren’t having it: they that disdained new ideas. By contrast, the blocked the Portuguese ships and attacked Western tradition of free inquiry fueled the again—this time with cannons that seemed explosion of Europe’s military technology. much more powerful than last year. Far fewer In The Gunpowder Age, Andrade shoots this Portuguese lived to tell the tale. argument full of holes. And he While we can’t be certain offers a counternarrative with Chinese forces had adopted sticking power: military innoWestern-style guns, Andrade vation in both China and the reckons that it’s highly likeWest reflected what he calls the ly. The Chinese commander, “challenge-response dynamic.” It Wang Hong, is said to have sped up during periods of conencountered some Chinese who flict, and stagnated in peacetime. had lived in Portugal and who Take the first major miliwere familiar with the technoltary conflict between China and ogy, and convinced them to cast Europe: the Sino-Portuguese guns for him.

War of 1521–22. The war really consisted of two battles. The The Gunpowder Age: Andrade writes that Wang seeds were sown in 1516, when China, Military Innovation, Hong was a member of the Portuguese ambassadors arrived and the Rise of the West in Chinese literati who “grew up quoting Confucius.” But that in the southern Chinese port city World History didn’t stop him from racing to of Guangzhou hoping to open By Tonio Andrade ’92 University adopt European firearm techformal relations. But rumors Princeton Press, 2016 nology—after his victory over spread that the Portuguese were the Portuguese, he successfully lobbied the cannibals (with a penchant for children), and Chinese emperor to install “Frankish guns” when the emperor died unexpectedly, the on the Great Wall. Indeed, Andrade shows Portuguese fell out of favor. Some were taken prisoner in Guangzhou; a Portuguese trad- that time and time again Confucian officials had no qualms adopting Western guns ing fleet, which arrived in 1521, refused to and tactics if they believed they could be leave without them. The Chinese assembled effective. a larger fleet and attacked. But they were And if China didn’t adopt European ideas, held off by the Portuguese ships’ artillery guns, which seemed astonishingly powerful it was often simply because they weren’t useto the Chinese. Many Portuguese escaped. ful in a Chinese context. Military historians have made much of how Europe copied They wouldn’t be so lucky the following

Number of Conflicts

Military Conflicts per Year, China vs. Europe, 1340–1911 20

15

China Europe

10

5

1340 1350 1360 1370 1380 1390 1400 1410 1420 1430 1440 1450 1460 1470 1480 1490 1500 1510 1520 1530 1540 1550 1560 1570 1580 1590 1600 1610 1620 1630 1640 1650 1660 1670 1680 1690 1700 1710 1720 1730 1740 1750 1760 1770 1780 1790 1800 1810 1820 1830 1840 1850 1860 1870 1880 1890 1900 1910

0

Year 18 Reed magazine june 2016

data courtesy of tonio andrade ’91

25

kevin liles

Chinese troops defeat Zunghar and Uyghur forces in 1759. Chinese musketeers and artillery camels—yes, camels—played a decisive role in the victory. Painting by a team of Chinese and European artists who collaborated under the direction of Guiseppe Castlglione, aka Lang Shining 郎世寧 (1688-1766).

Chinese gun technology in the 14th century and, within 150 years, had developed heavy artillery that was capable of reducing castles to rubble. They’ve generally written off Chinese guns as being far more primitive. Andrade admits that Chinese guns remained much lighter into the 16th century. But rather than being a sign of stagnation, he argues that this was practical: the huge earthen walls that lined Chinese cities were much more massive than European castle walls. Artillery didn’t stand a chance on them, so China developed lighter weapons meant to be fired mostly at people.

Andrade supports his thesis with an original survey of the frequency of conflict in the West and China. From about 1300 to 1750, war raged through China and Europe at roughly the same rate. But after that, China settled into what Andrade calls “the great Qing peace,” while European states kept shooting, blasting, invading, and conquering one another with monotonous regularity. By the time of the Opium War of 1839, European military technology had been strengthened by recent decades of existential conflict, whereas China had not faced a major threat for almost a century.

Andrade’s conclusions are born out of interest in putting European and Chinese histories into conversation with each other—something

he picked up from the European intellectual history classes of Prof. Malachi Hacohen [history 1989–93]. Andrade has been a professor at Emory University in Atlanta since 2002, where he teaches seminars on subjects like “China and the World” and “European Expansion.” In the spirit of a Reed conference, Andrade says he tries to push his students to think through how different histories impact and play out on each either.

The challenge-response dynamic might suggest that China should have been able to adapt British technology soon after its defeat in the First Opium War. It was not so.

Chinese reformers yearned for Europe’s brutally exact mortars and new steamships, but they struggled without precision tools like lathes and shapers—“machines that make machines,” as one contemporary Chinese engineer put it. Andrade attributes Europe’s advantage in part to its tradition of experimental science that was flowering at this time, something that had no counterpart in China.

Reformers there were further slowed by the bureaucracy and factionalism of the Qing ancien regime. Nevertheless, the intense warfare of the 1800s pushed the Chinese to speed up military development. Although China suffered a humiliating defeat by Japan in the Sino-Japanese War of 1894, it wasn’t due to a disparity in military technology—Andrade

Tonio Andrade ’92

shows that Japan’s young Meiji regime simply outmaneuvered and out-fought the forces of the torpid Qing Dynasty.

China’s failure to quickly catch up to Britain, and its defeat at the hands of Japan’s forces despite their technological parity, suggest factors at play in this story that go beyond Andrade’s challenge-response dynamic. If China’s Confucian culture didn’t keep it from innovating, why didn’t it develop a scientific tradition to match that of Europe? And if it’s frequency of warfare that counts, how can Andrade argue that China’s bureaucracy was to blame for its failure to beat Japan?

Andrade sees these questions, and he welcomes them— “all of the above” is his answer.

The Gunpowder Age doesn’t seek to overthrow the monolithic narrative of “Confucianism was the problem” with a new monolith of “challenge-response was the prime mover.”

Instead, the book brings insights from all kinds of historical sources—Chinese and European, cultural and military—to shed light on a story that’s as complicated as it is consequential. And like any good Reedie, Andrade is determined to keep following the conversation—no matter how explosive his findings may be.

june 2016 Reed magazine 19

Outplanning Catastrophe

Emma Stocker ’07 Gets Ready for the Big One

BY KIERAN HANRAHAN ’15

The lights go out at 8:22 PM Pacific Standard Time.

Inside OHSU’s sky tram, the passengers stumble as the tram lurches to a halt. The first thing they notice is that the darkness doesn’t wash upon the city gradually, block by block like in the movies, but arrives all at once, leaving Portland a tenuous spiderweb of light cast by the traffic still moving on the roads. The second thing they notice is the arc of the Milky Way rising over the darkened Willamette Valley. The view, beautiful but sinister, is the result of a cyber attack on the Pacific Northwest’s energy infrastructure. Within a half hour, failures cascade across the power grid, known as the Western Interconnection, that extends from

20 Reed magazine june 2016

Washington to New Mexico. Millions of people lose power, and with it, water.

It sounds like the plot of a science fiction thriller, but this scenario is one of several outlined by a government agency with a dull four-letter acronym in an annual report with its own dull five-letter acronym. Emma Stocker ’07 authored the report, known as the Threat and Hazard Identification and Risk Assessment (THIRA), while working for Portland’s Regional Disaster Preparedness Organization (RDPO) last year.

Stocker’s job as an emergency manager at Portland State University is to imagine the worst thing that could possibly happen— and then prepare for it.

The bulk of her work can be broken down into two parts. The first part, she calls “gap identification.” To identify gaps in an

organization’s preparedness, she concocts worst-case scenarios (like the cyber-attack plot), coordinates with the relevant parties to create a best-case preparatory plan (100% infrastructure resilience to hacker infiltration), and then figures out what they need to get there from where they are now (redundancies that activate automatically in the event of primary system failure).

The second half of her work consists of preparing plans and procedures to use in case of a crisis. “When we’ve got an emergency situation on hand, because it’s broken our standard operating procedures, to take our normal operational solutions and try to apply that to this crisis, that, by definition, doesn’t work.” You can’t plan for every detail of a possible emergency, but having a clear procedure in place can prevent you from freezing up,

erik ursin

the recovery of parishes in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina, a process that infamously stalled because of delays by the Federal Emergency Management Authority. Her mother’s family is from the area, and when Katrina hit the Gulf Coast at the beginning of her junior year at Reed, she was determined to help. “When the hurricane hit, I remember talking with my dad and telling him, ‘I need to go. I’ve got to go down there. I need to be helpful,’” she says. “He said, ‘Take a deep breath. You are building your toolkit. You’re preparing yourself to be helpful.’”

That summer, Stocker worked in Baton Rouge for a planning firm that provided support for recovery and saw the aftermath of Katrina there firsthand. “Nine months later, it was still absolutely devastated,” she says.

For her thesis, she returned to Louisiana to interview everyone from local ministers to city staff to try to understand why some communities were recovering faster than others.

“It was—dark,” she says. “It was unparalleled in any of their experiences. I still find myself thinking about it.” Though her career thus far has been free of a disaster on the scale of Hurricane Katrina, she applies what she learned from her thesis to her work. “I try to hold those lessons close, still, in my work. There’s still so much to learn about what happened there.”

Her thesis launched her career, but her flair for dealing with the unexpected came from an unlikely source—the stage. Both her

Sometimes the lights don’t work. Sometimes the door doesn’t open. Sometimes the toupé falls off. But the show goes on. she says. “A crisis situation is overwhelming, and it can paralyze a lot of people, and that’s not the moment to try to be a higherorder thinker. Once you get those procedures under your belt and are fully functional on the ground, then you can get more creative and think across boundaries and think outside of the box about what you need to do to solve the problem.”

Stocker knows all about the harm that paralysis in the face of disaster can do.

She wrote her sociology thesis with Prof.

Marc Schneiberg [sociology 2000—] on

parents are actors, and she stage managed plays in high school and at Reed. “You have a playbook, and you know how things are supposed to go and when people are supposed to enter and when the sound goes and the lights turn on. But sometimes, the lights don’t turn on. Sometimes, the door doesn’t open. Sometimes, someone’s toupé falls off on stage, or the dog is supposed to be there, but the dog isn’t there—whatever. And the show must go on.”

Her freshman year she was an assistant stage manager for the Rebecca Gilman play

Boy Gets Girl. One night, one of the actors was sick. “We sort of looked around and said, ‘Well we still need that person to do that role, and we can’t lose this person on this technical aspect. So, Emma, how about you be the understudy?’ So with less than 24 hours notice, I went on stage,” she says. “While I felt like I was absolutely obvious, I was told that it came off pretty well. Nobody noticed.”

Even as Stocker constantly thinks about the looming threat of catastrophe, she says “I’m definitely an optimist. I’m not going to give into the despair of growing vulnerability.”

She derives her optimism in part from the work she does as an organizer for the Disaster Relief Trials, an annual cargo bike obstacle course race held in Portland, Eugene, and Seattle. Participants in the DRT show up with their cargo bikes ready to haul 100 pounds of post-disaster supplies over barriers, past difficult terrain, and through water over the course of 30 miles.

The idea behind the DRT is simple. In the event of an emergency like a gasoline shortage or an earthquake, bikes will be able to navigate difficult terrain without fuel or complex parts. DRT organizers envision cargo bikes as the saviors of humanity in a Mad Maxmeets-Portlandia-style apocalypse.

Stocker says that the excitement of DRT riders as they overcome each of the course’s obstacles is infectious. “The enthusiasm and the resolve of the bikers themselves as they complete their course, that’s the thing that keeps me optimistic. They surprise themselves with how powerful they are, how capable they are. When they do that, and they come out of the DRT event and understand what they’ve done, the significance of it, I see that, and that gives me hope.”

It’s 8:23PM when the sky tram’s backup generators—installed at the behest of emergency planners like Stocker—whir noisily on. The tram glides to the bottom of Marquam Hill, and the passengers disembark with a sigh of relief. The third thing they notice quells their panic: A crowd of people is already waiting at the bike valet to retrieve their parked bikes, each one growingly aware of the good they can do with just a backpack and a pair of wheels, each one eager to ride out and help.

june 2016 Reed magazine 21

SHOWRUNNER

How playright Eric Overmyer ’73 mastered the small screen

BY DK HOLM AND KATIE PELLETIER ’03

Establishing shot: outdoors. Nighttime. A palm tree waves in a light wind. Two homicide detectives sit in an unmarked car beside a chainlink fence. Stadium lights illuminate an overcast sky.

On a stakeout in gritty LA, the two men exchange small talk about the ball game and the weather.

“Won’t go nine,” our protagonist, Harry Bosch, says. “What are you all of a sudden, an amateur meteorologist now?” his partner quips. Finally their mark exits his family home and the two detectives follow, first by car, then Bosch trails on foot. Before long, just as Bosch predicted, a drenching rain begins to fall, and he finds himself following the suspect down a dark alley where at last he confronts him. Bosch draws his gun.

“Manos!” he yells. The man seems to cooperate, but then, he reaches down. “Freeze!” Bosch says and points his gun. The man reaches into his pocket and Bosch squeezes the trigger.

Bosch, based on the bestselling mystery series by Michael Connelly, was developed for television by Eric Overmyer ’73 and has quickly become one of Amazon’s most popular original series. The pilot was picked up

by Amazon Studios’ crowdsourced selection process, and the show became the very first Amazon Original to be commissioned for a second season. Bosch is an addictive, quintessential police procedural that follows case-hardened LAPD homicide detective Hieronymous “Harry” Bosch—named for

the medieval Dutch painter whose famous depiction of heaven and hell serves as a metaphor for LA—as he investigates a case that hits uncomfortably close to home.

But far from the palm trees of LA and the glamor of Hollywood, Overmyer, the series’ writer and show-runner, got his start in a very different world: doing experimental theatre in the Pacific Northwest. It was a surprising twist: that the Reed student buying dog-eared scripts at Powell’s with money he raised from collecting bottles and cans, who devoted himself to avant-garde theatre by sitting half-naked in a trash can for an evening, or filming a silent, 8-millimeter version of Waiting for Godot wearing a bowler hat in a cow field, would later become the awardwinning screenwriter behind hit television shows like The Wire and Tremé.

“We’re talking 30-some years ago,” he said in a recent conversation with Reed.

“Portland wasn’t the bright shiny city it is now. It was a little mossy, not very diverse.

Lumberjacks and fishermen.” Still, it was a

photo by Kendrick Brinson

SHOWRUNNER place that was receptive to experiment— good and bad.

At Reed he immersed himself in a wide variety of productions, from classical to absurdist. His freshman year, he appeared in Machiavelli’s Mandragola, played Gogo in a thesis production of Waiting for Godot staged by Chris Steele ’75, followed by Endgame, directed by Prof. Roger Porter [1961-]. He was in a thesis production of Pinter’s Landscape and Silence, and with Lee Blessing ’71 did an adaptation of Mrozek’s absurd, macabre comedy, Out at Sea, in the old Student Union. Senior year he directed Robert Montgomery’s Subject to Fits.

Busy acting and directing, he had not

RENE PEREZ / ap images

Mise-en-scène: Eric Overmyer, 1987

considered writing for theatre; instead, he wanted to be a poet. But, his thesis adviser, Prof. Larry Oliver [1972-77] introduced a playwriting course, and Overmyer seized an opportunity to write and direct a play called A Clam’s Chance on Mt. Everest. Overmyer describes the play as “a mess,” but after he graduated, Oliver encouraged him further by commissioning work: a draft of what Overmyer calls his “first real play,” Native Speech, which was produced at Reed. In a 1995 commencement address Overmyer said, “it was at Reed, and largely because of Reed and the people that I met there, that I slowly began to think of myself as a writer and an artist.”

Portland boasted a lively theatre scene in the 1970s and early 1980s and Overmyer

plunged into it. “The most important theatre in Portland was the Storefront Theatre,” he says. “It did a lot of original work, as well as plays that had been done elsewhere; it was very visual. I was lucky to do a little work there.” He directed plays by Shepard and Beckett, Mamet and Wilde. Portland theatre created a work ethic among its members: “The overriding factor in those days was money – the utter lack of it,” he remembers.

“Fortunately, it was possible to find affordable space in out-of-the-way places to do theatre.

And the lack of money spurred a lot of marvelous invention. Necessity being the mother of all that.”

In short order, he became one of Portland’s brightest stars, winning a Drammy award (then called the Willies) for the 1978-79 season as best supporting actor in Shepard’s The Tooth of Crime. But soon he left Portland for New York.

Overmyer has written around 10 plays.

On the Verge, or the Geography of Yearning, his most-produced play, is a respected comedy about three Victorian explorers, noted for its ambitious word play and praised in the New York Times as a script that “has legs.” “If New York is fortunate, it may become one of Mr. Overmyer’s ports of call,” the reviewer said, and for a while it did: Overmyer’s plays opened in venues off Broadway in the 1980s and 90s. His work as a playwright demonstrates an abiding interest in language and genre, drawing comparisons to Stoppard, Pynchon, and T.C. Boyle. This period saw the openings of his plays Amphitryon, the noirish Dark Rapture, and Mi Vida Loca. In 1989 he opened In A Pig’s Valise, a hard-boiled detective story and musical comedy that featured pop band Kid Creole and the Coconuts.

Overmyer told the New York Times, “I was drawn to the detective form because it’s so American. The piece is really about American vernacular, both linguistic and musical.”

At this time he was also a jobbing screenwriter. His first credits include a handful of scripts for the medical drama St. Elsewhere in 1985-86. He worked on sitcoms, among them the cult favorite The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, as well as thrillers (The Cosby Mysteries) and adaptations, including the short-lived series The Big Easy. In 1994, the New York Times noted that Overmyer kept “his careers compartmentalized. The linguistic ornamentation that distinguishes his own plays is absent from his television work.”

And yet, Overmyer’s experiments with language and genre would prove to be key to

his transition from theatre to screen. “A little language goes a long way when you’re writing for the camera,” he says, adding that his theatre background helped him “enormously” in writing for TV. “I know how actors work, I know how to write characters. I had to learn how to be succinct and how to shape scenes in a different way. I still don’t think visually well enough to be a genuine screenwriter— it’s dialogue I’m interested in, and how character is revealed through it.”

Overmyer’s career took off in 1996, when he began to work on Homicide: Life on the Street, a smart TV police procedural based on the book by Baltimore reporter David Simon.

Overmyer wrote several episodes and acted as a producer on the program, which won an array of Television Critics Association Awards, and is frequently included in “Best TV Shows of All Time” lists. The show was known for departing from network conventions and advice: focusing on more than one homicide, eschewing happy endings, and allowing for plot complications like unsolved cases. Other work on crime dramas followed. Overmyer worked on Law and Order and Law and Order: Special Victims Unit in the early 2000s, before joining up again with Simon, who had a new hit show: The Wire.

By 2006 television was in the thick of a transformation from the much-derided network fare that had dominated the medium for decades into a new golden age, made possible by cable channels such as HBO which were backing series with interesting, complicated narratives that stretched out over entire seasons. These were shows that explored darker territory than television of the past, and whose cliff-hangers were not simply questions of plot, but investigations of character. Six-Feet Under had just concluded, The

Sopranos was wrapping up, and shows like Breaking Bad and Mad Men were on the horizon. Even comedies like Sex and the City had become character-driven stories with antiheroes who changed over the course of the series. These shows were in the vanguard of a revolution in media—how viewers consumed television was shifting. DVDs and streaming made binge-watching a national pastime.

Soon, Netflix and Amazon would be producing original content and entire seasons would be released all at once. Commercial breaks were no longer the organizing principle for plot climaxes and resolutions. Televisions themselves changed; the TV in your living room could accommodate more nuanced visual storytelling and cinematography.

The Wire was a police procedural set in Baltimore, but was fundamentally unlike any network cop show that had preceded it.

In a pitch to HBO executives, Simon wrote that The Wire would “ultimately bring viewers from wondering, in cop-show expectation, whether the bad guys will get caught, to wondering instead who the bad guys are and whether catching them means anything at all.” Overmyer joined the writing room for the show’s fourth season, for which he won a Writers Guild of America Award in 2008 and an Edgar Award in 2009. “The Wire is a beautiful, brave series. This is its best season yet,” the New York Times raved.

Overmyer and Simon went on to create Tremé, another critically acclaimed HBO drama known for its realistic depiction of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. The pursuit of authenticity brought the show’s creators together with a fascinating denizen of the New Orleans music scene: Reed alumnus Davis Rogan ’90, who is the basis of the lead character Davis McClary. In Tremé,

many of Overmyer’s interests came together: music, genre, the American vernacular, and New Orleans, where he lives part-time.

Tremé is known for taking artistic license with its structure and pacing, lingering on setting, character, and music. In a glowing review, Robert Lloyd, television critic for the Los Angeles Times, lauded it as “perhaps the only show on television in which characters’ colors and cultures are not incidental to their gifts and predicaments, their advantages or obstacles.” It’s “not a plot-driven entertainment but moving and various and messy,” he says. “In my more perfect universe, it would be the cable drama everyone talks about and other shows want to imitate.”

Most recently, Overmyer is at work on the movie New Orleans, je t’aime, a series called Capitol Crimes, and Bosch, which has just been picked up for a third season by Amazon. As a playwright, Overmyer was drawn to outcasts exploring challenging terrain and using their words or language as tools to cope with reality, from his trio of Victorian explorers in On the Verge, to his take on Peer Gynt, set in the Pacific Northwest. In his work for screen, we see these same preoccupations, and he’s in good company. If Mad Men, House of Cards, Breaking Bad, and the Sopranos have shown us anything, it is that audiences are hungry for nuanced stories and complicated protagonists coping with an often gritty, urban American reality.

Exterior. Night. Rain falls and Bosch stands over the body of the man he has just killed, his gun still drawn. His partner drives up, and the two men make troubled eye-contact; Bosch is illuminated in the unforgiving glare of the police car’s headlights. Soon after, the police chief arrives, a tall, imposing figure with a deep voice. “In God’s name, Bosch, another one?” he says. And so the series begins. Roll the opening credits.

Overmyer (AS SEEN ON TV)

Homicide: Life on the Streets

Writer/producer for the NBC police procedural based on the book by David Simon, which debunked standard TV myths about detectives.

Law & Order

Writer, consulting producer for the longest running crime show franchise on TV, making Americans familiar with terms like cold case and perp.

The Wire

Writer, consulting producer for the HBO serial crime drama set in Baltimore that riveted viewers with its tales of political malfeasance, crooked cops, and crime.

Tremé

Creator of the HBO serial drama set in post-Katrina New Orleans exploring the raw aftermath of a manmade disaster—plus great music, of course.

Bosch

Creator/executive producer for the Amazon Studios show based on best-selling novels by Michael Connelly, featuring the eponymous maverick detective.

june 2016 Reed magazine 25

Within Reach Jon Schull ’75 engineers a new solution for prosthetic hands

photo by kevin liles

BY WILLIAM ABERNATHY ’88

Ethan Brown is like any other 9-yearold boy. At times strikingly poised, often taciturn, and always active, Ethan lives in Opelika, a not-too-large town in Alabama about 80 miles southwest of Atlanta. His mother, Melina, talks about the kids with every mom’s mix of awe and pride. One’s in college at Auburn, another just graduated.

Cole’s the comedian, and Emily attracts butterflies like Snow White. “Ethan,” she says, “is full speed ahead.” He skates, rides a bike, plays basketball, is on the football team, and just started horse-riding lessons. “His trainer had the whip out—making the horse go faster,” she recounts of a recent lesson, “and all you see are teeth and smiles. Everything he does is as fast as possible.”

But Ethan is different in one respect.

For some reason, his left hand came out all wrong. His thumb is normal, but his index finger twists across his hand at a right angle, taking up the space where the tiny nubs of his middle and ring fingers ought to have grown. His pinky is fused into a stiff digit with a rigid middle knuckle. “He’s never actually been diagnosed,” Melina says, “syn-brachy-something that I can’t pronounce...It doesn’t really matter.”

Growing up with a visible physical difference, of course, is no cakewalk. Faced with teasing and bullying in school, Ethan was, by age 7, beginning to withdraw. One night, he asked his mom, “Are there other people like me?” Melina hopped onto Facebook to show him a support group for people with upper-limb deformity. She was

scrolling through the comments when she stumbled across a post by a man named Jon Schull, who had an idea that would change Ethan’s life.

Mechanical hands have a long and fascinating history. One of the earliest models was built for the medieval German mercenary and poet Gottfried von Berlichingen, known as “Götz of the Iron Hand,” who lost his right arm during the siege of Landshut in 1504. His mailed hand boasted articulated fingers that allowed him, it is said, to hold a shield and write with a feather pen. In 1845, an Australian dental surgeon named Dr. Robert Norman used whalebone and pulleys to fashion a mechanical hand for a Corporal John Coles of Adelaide, who lost several fingers in a gunpowder accident. Norman’s design featured an innovative pulley system that allowed Coles to flex the fingers by moving his thumb.

Upper-limb prosthetics have improved since then, but they are by no means perfect. Children pose a special problem, because they can grow out of a device in the time it takes to fit one. A conventional upper-limb prosthesis, built and fitted by a trained, certified professional, starts at around $6,000. Even with insurance, most parents can’t afford to fit multiple hands as a child continually grows out of them.

Also, not every kid with an upper-limb difference lives in the same city—or country—as a trained prosthetist.

Which brings us to Schull, who stands at the crest of a new wave in prosthetics that harnesses the power of crowdsourcing

Within Reach to solve the problem of building mechanical hands. With the help of a South African carpenter, a Bellingham prop maker, and a Reedie in North Carolina, he has launched e-NABLE, a global movement matching an army of DIY fabricators with kids who need a hand.

Schull started at Reed with an interest in animal behavior, which, after a brief flirtation with biology, led him to the psychology department. “I had been interested in biology because of Darwin,” he says, “and then I learned about reinforcement theory, which was all about rewards’ variations on behavior, which is very similar to the reproductive consequence of variations on the behavior of genes.” The analogy between the evolutionary fitness of genes and of behaviors became a source of an abiding fascination.

Schull’s interest in this parallel was heightened his senior year in History and Systems of Psychology, taught by Prof. Allen Neuringer [psychology 1970–2008]. “We read a few chapters by William James, the 19th-century philosopher, who went to Harvard at around the same time Darwinism swept across the world,” he remembers. “James thought about natural selection as it relates to behavior and learning, as it relates to consciousness, as it relates to social evolution, and as it relates to the evolution of all sorts of complexity.”

Under Prof. Neuringer’s guidance, Schull delivered papers at Western Psychological Association conferences in both his junior and senior years at Reed. After graduating from Reed, he went to Penn to earn his PhD and taught biological psychology for 13 years at Haverford.

But the seed Neuringer planted had taken root. Schull’s sabbatical years are marked by papers that return to James’s work, a focal intrigue being how far Darwin’s insights could be pushed. Do ideas evolve?

Can they meaningfully be thought to have a life? How do they propagate? How are bad ideas selected out?

These musings proved far from idle. In the early ’90s his attempt to sell laboratory software he’d developed resulted in several patents concerning software distribution and digital-rights management. “I ended up writing … a solution to the Napster problem 10 years before Napster existed,” he says.

Knowing a fit idea when he saw one, he left Haverford to found SoftLock.com, which lasted nine years until collapsing in the 2001

28 Reed magazine june 2016

dot-com bust. By this time, he confesses, “I was no longer qualified to teach biological psychology.”

Adapting, he found a new niche at the Rochester Institute of Technology, where his nominal focus changed to information technology and innovation. “I started teaching a course called Innovation and Invention,” Schull says, “which was all about what I’d come to decide was my great interest ... how new ideas can come into being—and this is the hard part—how they spread.”

In 2011—some 13,000 miles away from Rochester—Johannesburg carpenter Richard Van As hustled to finish a job. Table-saw accidents happen with unfathomable speed, and he doesn’t recall what happened, just the smell of blood filling the room. He found two of his fingers on the saw table. His ring finger was hung up in the dust collector, and neither he nor his wife could find his pinky.

What they found, doctors could not reattach.

Before leaving the the hospital, he vowed to build something to replace his missing fingers.

In the months that followed, Van As found and partnered with Ivan Owen, a theatrical prop maker in Bellingham, Washington, with experience building giant mechanical hands, to help him replace the fingers he had lost.

Two years and a day after the accident, a YouTube video announced the fruit of their collaboration: the Robohand, a do-it-yourself prosthetic designed and built for 3-D printers. Significantly, Van As and Owen released their design as an open-source plan: anyone with a 3-D printer can take their plans and build their own. For free.

The video sparked an online discussion, and Schull weighed in with a practical (and fateful) challenge: OK Makerbotters If you’re willing to receive inquiries from people who need a robohand, put yourself on the map! I’ve put a user-editable map on Robohand’s facebook and thingiverse pages.

Spread the word.

“It took off.” Schull says, “And it has now entirely taken over my life.”

E-NABLE, a Google+ virtual community that started with this post, now has more than 7,000 members around the world engaged in a massive online collaboration to design, build, and improve artificial hands, and to make them freely available to anyone who needs one. 3-D printers, like the MakerBot referenced in Schull’s post,

Jon Schull ’ 75 demonstrates a 3-D printed hand at Johns Hopkins medical center.

are computer-controlled extruders that lay down a thin layer of thermoplastic (like the ABS used to make Lego bricks) that gradually builds up, layer by layer, into a complex three-dimensional shape. Once expensive and exotic, 3-D printing is becoming cheaper and more ubiquitous daily.

As important as the 3-D printing technology is, it was social media that gave e-NABLE wings. Van As and Owen’s open-source licensing of the Robohand plan encouraged others to share and improve on their original design.

A designer sitting at a laptop in Rochester, for example, can make an improvement or an adjustment to a part and instantaneously propagate it to anyone with a printer and an internet connection—be they in Berlin, Taipei, or Timbuktu. Starting with Van As and Owen’s Robohand design, the e-NABLE community has adapted and improved the basic concept with new designs, hands with names like Raptor, Osprey, and Cyborg Beast.

Designers share ideas on new approaches and new materials as they become available.

E-NABLE’s hands fit around the wearer’s palm and use simple mechanical actuation— such as pulleys, levers, or elastic bands—to translate wrist motions to finger movement.

Schull describes it to kids more concisely: “When you bend your wrist, it makes a fist.”

The fingers and much of the supporting structures are plastic, usually pivoting on joints made of Chicago screws, available in most hardware stores.

The resultant device is by no means a perfect replacement for a well-formed hand. The

t h i s pa g e : P h o t o s b y J e n O w e n o f e n a b l i n g t h e f u t u r e . o r g

In September 2014, over 125 unassembled 3-D printed hand kits were created by volunteers from all over the world and shipped to Baltimore for the first e-NABLE community conference, “Prosthetists Meet Printers.”

wearer can’t generally move individual fingers (a motion called “gross grip”), and the grip strength doesn’t enable jar-opening or walnut-cracking. But users can pick up cups and other lightweight objects and stabilize objects for the opposing hand. The advantages in cost, appearance, availability, and customizability make e-NABLE designs popular with kids and their parents.

Even with free, globally distributed volunteer labor, the e-NABLE community has rapidly grown to the point that it has become several full-time jobs’ worth of effort to keep it going. Having headed a company already, Schull knew his limitations and sought help to provide support for the burgeoning project. Attorneys working pro bono had already set up a 501(c)(3) to establish the Enable Community Foundation when Schull reached out to Grace Mastalli ’73.

“Originally I was going to meet with him, have lunch, see a friend, and leave on a return flight at four in the afternoon,” Mastalli says of their first face-to-face meeting. “What I thought was our one-on-one involved a bunch of other people, all of whom were fascinating, and he was sort of multitasking, trying to form relationships and get engagements with multiple people simultaneously… The day ended up ending at 4 a.m. instead of 4 p.m. I decided he really needed someone like me to work with him to make his vision and dreams a reality.”

Mastalli initially signed on to help for a three-month mini-sabbatical but has since taken the helm as CEO of the foundation, a

nonprofit that supports the efforts of the online community. Schull, Mastalli says, “is the quintessential visionary. He’s creative, he’s spontaneous, he’s opportunistic. He’s sometimes inconsistent. He’s a man that you want to have in a room, generating ideas for a thousand people to work on executing.”

While Schull can inspire an audience by drawing insights from evolutionary psychology, the legally trained Mastalli quietly wields organizational psychology to make e-NABLE sustainable. As Schull ponders how to help ideas evolve, Mastalli, a veteran of the US Departments of Justice and Homeland Security with multiple startups under her belt, builds the ecosystem that e-NABLE’s ideas require to survive. “Where our thinking came together was networks and societies,” she says. “The difference is that he is very much interested in the evolution of collaborative networks, and I want to manage and design collaborative problem solving.”

The idea has caught on so fast that the organization’s ability to gather data has yet to catch up. “There’s been at least one hand delivered to more than 50 countries,” Schull says, “Our big push next year is collecting reliable and useful data to inform and understand what we do.” The foundation estimates that 1,800 hands have been delivered so far, but because their designs are open and free, they suspect that as many hands have been produced without their direct knowledge. Google, Autodesk, and several charitable organizations have contributed funds, and they’ve had visits from CNN, the New York Times,

and other national media.

The foundation’s first full-time employee was Ethan’s mom, Melina, whom the foundation now calls “the heart of the organization” for her tireless advocacy for recipients.

To hear her describe it, the hand isn’t about grip strength or dexterity at all. It’s about self-respect.

The biggest changes the e-NABLE hand has made in Ethan’s life, she says, are psychosocial. He’s more outgoing now, less withdrawn, and more able to engage with friends.

“His self-confidence now is huge,” Melina says.

“If we’re at an event, he takes off his hand and he’s like, ‘This is what it looked like. This is what I was born with.’ Never would he have done that when he was younger.” Ethan’s classmates’ attitudes changed with the new hand as well. “One day you’re the weird kid,” Ethan says, “and the next day, you’re suddenly the cool kid, because you have an Iron Man hand.”

Melina’s getting Ethan ready for his first public-speaking engagement. To hear him talk, he’s not the least bit nervous, looking forward instead to his 10th birthday, only four months away. Adult concerns aren’t holding his interest. It’s a sunny winter day in Opelika, and he’s playing basketball in the driveway. He steadies the ball with his thermoplastic fingers, squares up, and takes the shot.

William Abernathy ’88 lives in Berkeley, writes for a living, and makes things for fun.

GO FURTHER

enablecommunityfoundation.org

june 2016 Reed magazine 29

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Follow Your Interests to Find the Right College

Sanfilippo Syndrome

By Janet Marthers MALS ’06 and Paul Marthers MALS ’06

(Change Seven Magazine, Spring 2016)

(Wheatmark, 2016)

Rather than focusing on admissions strategies, encyclopedic listings, and summaries of colleges, Paul and Janet’s new college guide is instead a buyer’s guide. They aim to put buyers in a position to locate the best product (i.e., college program) to meet their needs. Areas of interest covered include standard subjects such as business, arts, health, tech, and environment, and also less frequently covered interests like faith, service academies, and equestrian. Small, offbeat majors such as turf management and video game design get page space, too, in this guide that does not delve equally into all subjects, but offers a useful entry into the daunting realm of college selection.

As a reference book, its success is not in the ease with which a reader can look up a given school and read all about it. In an age of college-finder web tools and other internet search

options, one doesn’t need such coverage from a book. Rather, its usefulness is in coaching prospective students to think more deeply about what they really care about in order to find a school that will have the best environment for them, and helping them locate lesser-known, but goodquality college options. In this way, the book avoids the anxiety-inducing focus on what the Marthers call “the myth of college admission scarcity.” “If everyone believes that the most highly soughtafter colleges are self-evidently the best for all, then of course there will be great demand for any book that purports to unlock the secrets known only to those with inside knowledge of highly selective admissions,” they contend.

Tunes from the John Neilson Music Book

By Vivian Tomlinson Williams ’59 and Philip L. Williams ’58 (Voyager Recordings & Publications, 2016)

In 1981 a 100-yearold handwritten manuscript of Scottish dance tunes, which had made its way to Arcata, California, was discovered by Vivian, who later edited and published the manuscript, which is known as The John Neilson Music Book. Now, with well-known Seattle dance musicians and her husband Phil, she has recorded a sampling of its reels, polkas, waltzes, hornpipes, and jigs. Vivian is an internationally known traditional fiddle player and offers, in this recording, a fascinating glimpse into the dance music of the Victorian era in Scotland.

30 Reed magazine june 2016

Ballet Noir

By Caroline Miller ’59 (Black Rose Writing, 2016) In a tale of death, intrigue, and paranormal romance, Tara Bentley, a young prima ballerina, travels to Europe for her first tour. Her excitement turns to horror when she’s haunted by the voice of her deceased dance teacher, Yelena Natilova. Tara fears she might be going mad until she meets a necromancer who assures her the voice is real.

The Seeker Is the Sought

By Marvin Richard Montney ’61

(Outskirts Press 2011)

In his latest poetry collection, Marvin explores the nature and transformative power of love. Divided into three sections—“The Seeker,” “The Sought,” and “The Found”—the poems are interesting not only in their philosophic examinations, but also in their fresh language and lyricism.

By Linera Lucas ’71

An adolescent girl, Terese, suffers from an inherited genetic disorder called Sanfilippo disorder. She and her family brace themselves for the behavioral and physical changes that the disorder is known to cause, but cannot fully anticipate the disastrous consequences of the disease.

Dreamer’s Run

By Thomas Owen ’73 (2016) On a hostile planet without a name, the last human outpost is about to be destroyed. The only hope is if Merrill, the head of security, can catch a saboteur and make him talk, but the answers and reasons may not be what Merrill wants to hear. Thomas is the author of Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Modern Cinderella, and ,most recently, The Fortunes of Olaf Shorthand.

Irish Nationalists in America: The Politics of Exile, 1798–1998

By David Brundage ’73

(Oxford University Press, 2016)

The first full-scale history of Irish nationalists in the United States, this book offers insight into the experience of one of America’s largest immigrant groups and the phenomenon of diasporic or “longdistance” nationalism. Beginning with the brief exile of Theobald Wolfe Tone, founder of Irish republican nationalism, in Philadelphia on the eve of the bloody 1798 Irish rebellion, and concluding with the role of Bill Clinton’s White House in the historic 1998 Good Friday Agreement in Northern Ireland, the book tells a story of more than two hundred years of Irish American (and American) activism in the cause of Ireland.

Biblical Time out of Mind: Myths, Maps, and Memories

By James Freeman ’78 and Tom Gage (Cune, 2016) The authors argue that neither Moses nor the Hebrews were in Egypt until around 1000 BCE. They sift through research of a Hyksos evacuation of Egypt which was led by an Eastern leader 500 years before Moses, asking whether the Exodus of scripture was actually a Hebrew exodus.

Two Percent Solutions for the Planet

By Courtney White ’82 (Chelsea Green Publishing, 2015) The premise of this pragmatic primer on regenerative practices in food and land use is that small changes make big differences. Two percent is “an illustrative number—not a scientific one—meant to stimulate our imaginations” about how small changes can have dramatic impact. A follow-up to Grass, Soil, Hope: A Journey through Carbon Country, in which Courtney argues for carbon sequestration through land management, Two Percent Solutions profiles a variety of nature-based approaches to global problems.

Approaches include restoring the carbon cycle with cattle, no-till farming, agrivoltism, microsizing, “growing topsoil,” and a bottom-up approach to species and habitat restoration.

Virtual Billions

By Eric Geissinger ’91 (Prometheus Books, 2016) Eric investigates Bitcoin’s historical roots, charts its unprecedented rise, and delves into the curious stories of those involved in its invention, growth, and popularization: Satoshi, the elusive creator of Bitcoin; Ross Ulbricht, known as the Dread Pirate Roberts, who created and ran the largest and most successful dark web drug market using Bitcoin; and the Winklevoss twins, Harvard graduates, Olympic rowers, famous Facebook litigants, and Bitcoin entrepreneurs who own one percent of all bitcoins in existence.

Farewell to the God of Plague: Chairman Mao’s Campaign to Deworm China

By Miriam Gross ’91 (UC Press, 2016) Chairman Mao’s crusade against snail fever, a devastating parasitic disease, was immortalized in his 1958 poem “Farewell to the God of Plague,” and stands as one of the most famous public health campaigns in the

history of the People’s Republic of China. “Its reputation is so compelling, its methods are still used in China, most recently in the campaign against SARS,” Miriam writes. But, using newly available archives, Miriam documents a grassroots resistance and shows that Mao’s campaign triumphed, not because of its touted mass-prevention efforts, but from its unacknowledged treatment arm, carried out jointly by banished urban doctors and rural educated youth.

Diamonds at Dusk

By Catalina Claussen ’93

(Progressive Rising Phoenix Press, 2016)

Cassie is hard to miss: she’s the one in cowgirl boots who, up until this morning, wasn’t interested in boys. But on the eve of her sixteenth birthday something inside her knocks loose. His name is Chadwick Dean Holbrook, a college prep school boy from Albuquerque and Cassie’s longtime “fair weather” friend. A broken promise, jealousy, and a charming misfit named Maverick Britton threaten to draw Cassie into a perilous world in this Southwestern YA novel.

The Arab Revolts

By Amanda Ufheil-Somers ’08

(Indiana University Press, 2013)

The 2011 eruptions of popular discontent across the Arab world, popularly dubbed the Arab Spring, were local manifestations of a regional mass movement for democracy, freedom, and human dignity.

Authoritarian regimes were either overthrown or put on notice that the old ways of oppressing their subjects would no longer be tolerated. These essays cover events in Tunisia, Egypt, Bahrain, Syria, and Yemen. Written for a broad audience of students, policymakers, media analysts, and general readers, the collection reveals the underlying causes of the revolts by identifying key trends during the last two decades leading up to the recent insurrections.

The Crimes of Sept. 10, 2001

By Robert Kahn ’73 (Black Rose Writing) In the third novel in Robert’s USA Trilogy 2015 (see also The Back Page and Killing the Sniper), the best friend of the world’s first great internet criminal, Erasmus Korb, wonders whether his friend was just lucky, or was it something else? The FBI wants to know too. Robert is still an editor for Courthouse News, founded and published by Bill Girdner ’72.

Hell

Recorded by Kip Berman ’03 (Painbow, 2015) After positive feedback to a demo version of the track “Hell,” Kip and his band, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, recorded and released an EP featuring the title track and two others. The title track is an upbeat indie-pop song with a lush sound. The two cover songs which follow flaunt the band’s mastery of their alternative rock influences: “Felt” by Ballad of the Band, and a version of James’s “Laid” that hews closely to the original, with with crisp female vocals by Jen Goma.

Golden House

Music video directed by Roland Dahwen Wu ’13

(Pink Smoke Records, 2015)

A gorgeous music video for the song “Golden House” for the band Tiburones, featuring Nick Delffs and Luz Elena Mendoza, moves between shots of sumptuous landscapes and artfully shadowed profiles of the musicians. The feel is of being on a road trip out West, driving perpetually through golden hours, listening to music that enhances the rugged scenery, and scenery that enhances the exquisite music.

The Pictorial Maps of Fred A. Routledge

By Prof. Craig Clinton [theatre 1978–2010]

(Oregon Historical Quarterly, Spring 2016)

Before air travel and satellites could provide pictures of Earth seen from distant vantage points, “it was the interpretive skills of artists that enabled such vision,” Craig writes. One such artist was Fred A. Routledge, whose work was instrumental in bringing new citizens to the Pacific Northwest.

In an article rich with colorful examples of Routledge’s work, Craig traces the cartographer’s career from his street-level illustrations to his stunning bird’s-eye regional views.

june 2016 Reed magazine 31

In Memoriam Master of Letterforms, Keeper of the Faith Prof. Robert Joseph Palladino [calligraphy 1969–84] February 26, 2016, at home in Sandy, Oregon, from natural causes.

Father Robert Palladino, a vital force in Reed’s calligraphy tradition and mentor to many scholars of the letter—including a penniless dropout named Steve Jobs—died quietly at home in Sandy, Oregon. He was 83 years old.

A former Trappist monk, Father Palladino taught calligraphy from 1969 to 1984, guiding students on an intellectual voyage through the art and history of the letters of the alphabet with brush, pen, quill, and ink.

“Whenever you write, write something worth reading,” he told his students.

Born and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the youngest of eight children, Palladino was cherished by a loving family, diverse in its heritage and strong in the Roman Catholic faith. His grandfather designed the St. Francis of Assisi Cathedral in Santa Fe. His father, a grocer, was the choirmaster at the parish church; his mother, a nurse, was the organist.

Albuquerque boasted a robust Italian community; he was schooled by Jesuits and immersed in music and art. He played ball and read the funnies, but he also was an altar server at the church.

The spiritual communion he experienced in the sanctuary directed his search for a profession that would further his faith. Guided in that search by his priest, he made retreats at Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Trappist monastery then in Pecos.

During these sessions, the beauty of Gregorian chant captivated him, as did the silence, simplicity, and farm work—the monks subsisted on the vegetables and fruits they grew.

After high school, he entered the monastery and began his life as a Cistercian of the Strict Observance. “Life in a cloistered monastery in those days was liturgical, scriptural, and contemplative, and I felt right at home,” he said. He joined the choir and began a 10-year course of study for ordination, which included subjects as diverse as Gregorian chant and the art of letterforms.

In 1955, the monks, tiring of their efforts to farm a terrain heavy with dust and rocks, moved west and set up an abbey on arable land gifted to them near Lafayette, Oregon. There, he served as the monastery’s scribe, choirmaster, and bookbinder, in between shifts pruning the monastery’s orchards.

He also began to develop a unique style of calligraphy, penning signs (extremely useful in a silent community) for use around the monastery. As his work gained recognition, requests for

signage and designs flowed in from other monasteries and attracted the attention of Prof. Lloyd Reynolds [English & art 1929–69].

When the reforms of the Second Vatican Council [1962–65] extended into the contemplative monasteries, silence was replaced by group discussions and the Latin Gregorian chant by vernacular music. Palladino decided to leave the order in 1968 and moved to Portland, where he began his formal work with Prof. Reynolds at Reed. He also studied with Father Edward Catich in Iowa, who cut the stone inscriptions for Eliot Hall and other buildings on campus, before taking over Reed’s part-time, elective calligraphy course when Reynolds retired in 1969.

That same year, he married Catherine Halverson, principal clarinetist of the Oregon Symphony. A decade later, relying on his knowledge of farming, the couple and their son, Eric, moved to a 20-acre homestead in Sandy.

Palladino taught calligraphy and paleography to about 80 Reed students per year, who came from all academic disciplines and scattered out

into the world to become artists, doctors, scientists, journalists, typographers, and designers.

One of them was Steve Jobs, who later spoke about the impact that Palladino’s classes had on him. “It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture.” Jobs incorporated these ideas into the design of the revolutionary Apple Macintosh.

Palladino had no interest in computers (he never actually used one) but he was thrilled, he said, to combine the intellectual traditions of the Trappists with a community of scholars at Reed.

“With my particular background of monasticism and theological study, I brought a love of true art to my teaching, and a desire to express important ideas in a beautiful presentation.”

In 1984, the Reed faculty voted to eliminate calligraphy from the curriculum and his connection with the college was severed—though not his connection to its alumni. He then had, as his primary occupation, calligraphy projects for the Printery House at Conception Abbey in Missouri.

Following Catherine’s death in 1987, Palladino june 2016 Reed magazine 37

In Memoriam requested reinstatement as a priest, confident that he could do parish work, having experienced life as a husband and father. In 1995 he was dedicated to two parishes, St. Aloysius in Estacada and St. John in Welches, though he served many others. He never really retired, but continued to do masses regularly, including the Latin Sung Mass at St. Stephen in Portland with his favorite choir, Cantores in Ecclesia.

Always at work in his studio and immersed in the larger community of calligraphers, he collaborated on numerous projects, exhibited his work around the globe, and published articles.

He served as president of the Society for Italic Handwriting and pioneered teaching calligraphy in Portland public schools.

He was also instrumental in ushering in the revival of calligraphy at Reed with the Cooley Gallery’s Calligraphy Initiative.

“It was a remarkable thing for our community for Robert to return to Reed and begin teaching again through the Calligraphy Initiative,” said the gallery’s director Stephanie Snyder ’91, who founded the initiative. “He was deeply disappointed when Reed dissolved the calligraphy program in the 1980s, and elated that it had returned as a community endeavor.”

Through the years, he built an extensive library and dedicated himself to the art of beautiful writing and to his studies in theology, chant, language, gold leaf, and letter forms, filling notebooks with his handwritten homilies and favorite quotations.

“I think of Palladino most days, especially in winter when I am outside looking up at the trees against the grey sky,” wrote Barry Shell ’73 on news of his death. “He used to say, ‘If you want to learn how to form perfect letters, look how the branches curve away from the trunk. Let nature shape your pen strokes.’”

Palladino was at home with himself and embodied the gifts of the spirit, staying centered and prayerful, and acting with the surety of his faith, while fulfilling the human obligations before him. This gave vitality to his interactions with the thousands of individuals who knew him as family, friend, priest, instructor, artist, musician, and colleague, and who grieve upon learning of his death.

A funeral mass at St. Mary’s Cathedral drew hundreds of mourners, one of whom festooned a tree outside the cathedral with weathergrams— scraps of paper with calligraphed aphorisms tied to the branches.

One of his favorite authors, Romano Guardini, points to that particular strength he embodied: “The greatest things are accomplished in silence— not in the clamor and display of superficial eventfulness, but in the deep clarity of inner vision; in the almost imperceptible start of decision, in quiet overcoming and hidden sacrifice.”

38 Reed magazine june 2016

Laid Foundation for Biostatistics Norman Breslow ’62

December 9, 2015, Seattle, prostate cancer.

A giant in the field of biostatistics who pioneered new techniques to identify significance in medical studies, Norm Breslow died in Seattle at the age of 74. He “really did lay the foundation for all modern statistical methods in epidemiology and public health,” UCLA professor Ron Brookmeyer told the LA Times.

The work was extremely technical—using the right math in the right ways to get meaningful results from disease studies—but its implications were enormous. Was factory dust the cause of workers’ cancer, or was it because they smoked? Did Pap smears prevent cancer, or did the women who got tests just have healthier habits? In an era of huge data sets and rapidly expanding research into the causes and risk factors for disease, his techniques transformed the field.

Norm was the son of Lester Breslow, a renowned advocate for maintaining health by getting enough sleep, eating right, and avoiding tobacco. Following a more technical path, Norm continued his father’s work by clearing the way for advances in cancer research and other medical fields.

He grew up in the Bay Area, and as a youth loved hiking, trekking, and backcountry mountaineer skiing—activities he maintained throughout his life. He adored being in the mountains, and at the age of 16 climbed the Matterhorn in Europe. As an adult he was a member of the Seattle Mountaineers Club, the Sierra Club, and Club Alpin Francais.

After graduating from Berkeley High School, he attended Reed, where he switched his major to math when he realized he might spend more time outdoors, studying math under a tree, than he would dissecting frogs in lab. He wrote his thesis, “On the Foundations of Number Theory,” with Prof. Joe Roberts [math 1952–2014], and subsequently earned his PhD in statistics at Stanford University.

As a young professor at the University of Washington, he was assigned a project on Wilms tumor, a kidney cancer affecting mostly young children. Studying the disease for the rest of his career, he dedicated himself to improving the treatment of this pediatric cancer and applied his discoveries to larger problems.

“He always thought in terms of the broader picture,” said his wife, Gayle, whom he married in 1963.

During his nearly 50-year career at the University of Washington as a scholar, mentor, and scientist, Norm helped build the modern field

of biostatistics—the science of learning from biomedical data. Over five decades, he wrote some of the most cited papers in his field and also outside it. The Breslow estimator, a standard research tool, was named in his honor, said colleague Mitchell Gail, a senior investigator with the National Cancer Institute. His book Statistical Methods in Cancer Research, which he cowrote with Nicholas Day in the late 1970s, is considered a foundational text for medical research.

He defined the ideal biostatistician by living a deep commitment to advancing the field, nurturing the careers of trainees and colleagues around the world, and advancing science to improve public health. From 1983 to 1993, Norman chaired UW’s department of biostatistics.

Martina Morris ’80, professor of sociology and statistics at UW, said, “Norm was not only a brilliant statistician, he was a remarkably demanding, but generous, mentor. I worked closely with a Kenyan scholar, Kawango Agot, who felt that Norm was the most influential and important teacher she had ever had. A force of nature, after obtaining both PhD and MPH degrees, she went back to her village, set up an NGO to work on HIV research, and is an internationally known scholar. Of all the faculty at UW, she found Norm, and he recognized and nurtured her abilities.”

He was also a member of the National Institute of Medicine, held a faculty position at Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, and taught several leading biostatisticians working in the world today. Hutchinson’s former director of public health sciences and current UW professor, Ross Prentice, said, “His work was characterized by well-chosen goals, persistence, rigor, and depth of engagement.

His accessible and careful writing has enhanced biomedical research worldwide.”

Norman loved listening to folk and classical music. He documented his life in stunning photographs and was a dedicated Francophile, fluent in French and Spanish. He spent part of each year at his second home in the village of Pierrevert, France, and when he was back in Seattle, he watched the nightly French news.

His adventures included solo roaming in rural Mexico, trekking in Nepal, winter camping in Canada, and productive professional stints in

London, France, Germany, and Switzerland.

His many honors include the Spiegelman Gold Medal from the American Public Health Association, the Marvin Zelen Leadership Award in Statistical Science from Harvard University, the Snedecor and R.A. Fisher awards from the Committee of Presidents of Statistical Societies, and the Medal of Honor from the International Agency for Research on Cancer. Norm also shared the distinction of simultaneous membership in the American Association for the Advancement of Science with his late father, Lester Breslow, himself a giant in public health.

Norm was once asked how he approached his research and responded that it began with the thought, “There must be a simpler way to do it.”

“He came along just when we got serious about dissecting out the causes of cancer,” said Jonathan Samet, chairman of preventive medicine at the University of Southern California’s Keck School of Medicine and director of the USC Institute for Global Health. “His knack was this translation thing. He said, ‘Here is the problem, and here is the tool to solve it.’”

Much of what is now known about causes and risk factors for cancer and other diseases was derived, in part, using Norm’s formulas.

He is survived by his wife, Gayle, daughters Lauren Basson and Sara Jo Breslow, grandchildren Benjamin and Ayelet Basson, brothers Jack and Stephen, nephew Paul, and stepmother, Devra Breslow.

The Spirit of Reed READ about departed classmates and professors at www.reed.edu/reed_ magazine/in-memoriam/.

HONOR them with a gift in their name at www.reed.edu/givingtoreed/.

SHARE your memories on our website or via email at reed.magazine@reed.edu.

Robert D. Neikes ’39 February 28, 2016, Seaside, Oregon

Born in Portland, Robert attended both Reed and Oregon State University.

In 1943, he graduated from the College of Medicine at Creighton University in Nebraska.

During World War II, he served in the U.S. Army Medical Corps on the hospital ship USAHS Charles A. Stafford. He moved to Astoria in 1948, where he practiced medicine at the Doctor’s Clinic and Astoria Clinic. Robert married Elizabeth Judd in 1951, and they had five children. In 1976, he mar-

ried Betty Jane Quinn.

As president of the Astor Library Construction Committee, he was instrumental in establishing the Astor Library, dedicated in 1967. Additional civic duties included serving as president of the Clatsop County Medical Society, the Civic and Community Concert associations, and the Library Board of Trustees. He received the Astoria Junior Chamber of Commerce Distinguished Service Award in 1968. Robert delighted in reading, fly-fishing, music, opera, and especially spending time at his farm in Jewell. In his late years, Robert volunteered at the Clatsop County Historical Society and as a tutor in Oregon’s SMART Reading Program (Start Making a Reader Today). He is survived by his children, Martha (Gunther) Romanov, David Neikes, Tom (Joom) Neikes, Jim (Jackie) Neikes, and Carrie Neikes; stepson, Peter (Anna) Quinn; six grandchildren; and one great-granddaughter.

Nellie Brockway Whetsler ’40 December 13, 2015, Portland, Oregon

Born in Sidney, Montana, Nell attended Reed in 1939-1940. After attending Lewiston State Normal School, she graduated from Washington State University, and did her postgraduate work at Walla Walla College. In 1942, she married C.F. “Buck” Whetsler. She worked professionally as a teacher, beginning in a one-room schoolhouse in Hope, Idaho, cooking daily hot lunches for students; she also taught in Clarkston and Pasco, Washington, and served on the Washington State Teachers Retirement Board.

Active in P.E.O., Nell belonged to a formal dance club, and enjoyed reading, golfing, sewing, reading, bridge and puzzles. In her memory care home, she discovered a hidden talent as a watercolor artist. Nell’s true passion, however, was caring for her family, including her daughters, Kaye Hale (Bob) and Kris Turner, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, who survive her.

Jack L. Stendal ’41 February 13, 2016, Salem, Oregon

Born in Boise, Idaho, to George and Henrietta Stendal, Jack graduated from Lincoln Hig h School in Por tland before attending Reed.

His college days ended in the winter of ’41 when he was called for military duty. He got the chance to attend the U.S. Naval Academy’s reserve midshipman training at Annapolis, and after receiving further training in sonar at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, he reported to the Pacific Fleet for anti-marine duty. Except for a time as an instructor at the Navy’s sound school in San Diego, he served in the South Pacific until the end of World War II. In 1943, he married Irene Applegate, and their

daughter, SueAnn, was born while they were stationed in San Diego. After the war, Jack was a CPA with Haskins & Sells, and later with the Oregon Department of Revenue. He was active in Oregon politics, the campaign treasurer for Governor Tom McCall and Secretary of State Clay Myers.

Jack also served on and chaired the Oregon Fair Commission. An enthusiastic woodworker and carpenter, he loved to travel and take pictures.

He is survived by his daughter, SueAnn Peters (Dan), and sister, Geoetta Whitney.

Robert Labby ’43 January 8, 2016.

Bob grew up in Portland’s Laurelhurst neighborhood, the son of dentist Harry Labby and his wife, Sonia. Bob graduated from Grant High School in 1939 and served in the 87th Mountain Infantry Regiment at Fort Lewis, Washington, and then in the 10th Mountain Division during the war. As a demolition expert, he served in the Aleutian Islands of Alaska and then was transferred to the Northern Apennines and Po Valley in Italy. He remained close to his comrades in arms throughout his life and made many trips abroad with members of the 10th Mountain.

When Bob returned from the war he attended Reed, the alma mater of his brothers Daniel ’35 and Arnold ’51, as well as their wives Margaret ’40, and Eva ’51. It was at Reed that he met his wife, Lore Caro ’47. Bob did not finish his bachelor’s degree at Reed, graduating instead from Lewis and Clark College in 1950. He spent his entire career in the pharmaceutical industry, retiring from Schering-Plough in 1986.

A true outdoorsman, he spent his weekends and vacations on Mt. Hood with the ski patrol, or fishing the coastal rivers for steelhead and salmon.

His crowning achievement as an angler was landing a 57-pound chinook salmon from the bank at the mouth of the Siletz River. He spent many months in rehab after a nearly fatal car crash returning from a fishing trip in 1961. This ended his skiing, though he returned to work and continued to fish.

His wife, Lore; sons, Lawrence and Paul (Lee Ann); grandchildren, Even and Alex; and brother, Arnold, and sister-in-law, Eva, all survive him.

Catherine Gesas Nelson ’43 February 27, 2016, Idaho Falls, Idaho

Born and raised in Idaho Falls, Catherine attended Reed but graduated from Oregon State University as a registered dietitian.

Later she also obtained a teacher’s certificate and taught for many years.

“Althoug h I only june 2016 Reed magazine 39

In Memoriam attended Reed during my freshman year, the school had a big impact on my life,” Catherine said. “To be in Prof. Barry Cerf’s [literature 1921– 48] class, be introduced to great literature, and be allowed to form my own ideas was a great joy.

Each moment at Reed I still cherish.”

After she married Gordon Nelson in San Luis Obispo, California, the couple moved to Idaho Falls, where they spent the rest of their lives.

Catherine taught for several years at O.E. Bell and Clair E. Gale junior high school. Two days after her husband’s funeral, she took over his wholesale frozen food business and worked with employees to expand it. She served as a Brownie Scout leader and was on the boards of the Salvation Army and the Idaho Falls Public Library. She chaired the Mae Neuber Foundation, originated and chaired the Idaho Falls Symphony Guild, and served on the Mayor’s Committee for Cultural Grants. An avid downhill skier, she served as president of the Idaho Falls Ladies Golf Association, was active in the Idaho Falls Unitarian Universalist Church, and worked in the local soup kitchen.

Catherine is survived by her daughter, Victoria McDonald; son, Joe (Rena) Nelson; and grandsons, Aaron and Jack McDonald, and Robert and Scott Nelson.

Gregory Wolfe ’43

December 12, 2015, Sunny Isles Beach, Florida

As the third president of Florida International University, Gregory guided its transition from a small, two-year school into a four-year university. During his seven-year tenure, FIU’s enrollment skyrocketed. He set the toughest freshman admission standards of any public university in Florida, added graduate programs, student housing, and the schools of engineering, nursing, journalism and mass communication. The Florida State Legislature named the Gregory Baker Wolfe University Center at FIU’s Biscayne Bay Campus in honor of Greg’s contribution to the university.

“Gregory brought a level of cosmopolitan, global vision of things but he was a realist at the same time. He was very good at turning the impossible into the inevitable,” said current FIU President Mark Rosenberg. “He was the one who convinced the Legislature and Board of Regents to allow FIU to have a robust graduate program offering. He is the father of a lot of our graduate programs. The 40 Reed magazine june 2016

Latin American and Caribbean Studies program took off largely because of his presence and his contacts in Washington — he was a Washington insider for a time — and that really helped us.”

“Greg brought a whole new tone to the university,” said FIU historian Tom Riley. “He looked like a movie star. He had the charisma of a John Kennedy and he was very bright. When he arrived there were great feelings of expectation of what he would do for the school — of which, he did a great deal.”

By the time Gregory arrived at FIU, he had already served in World War II as an intelligence analyst for the U.S. State Department, and on the White House staffs of presidents John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson. From 1968–1974 he served as president of Portland State University.

In 1962, Gregory was invited to Washington, D.C. to assume the direction of the Latin American Program of the private Committee for Economic Development. Presidents Kennedy and Johnson asked him to serve as federal negotiator of the Interstate Compact Commission charged with planning, organizing and financing the Washington Area Metropolitan Transit Authority. He concurrently served as the chief of the Department of State’s Intelligence Bureau for Latin America. In 1968, he departed federal service to become president of Portland State University.

Born in Los Angeles to Russian immigrants, he attended Los Angeles public schools before starting at Reed, where he majored in international studies and wrote his thesis, “The Colonial Problem: Changing Attitudes toward Backward Peoples,” with Prof. Charles McKinley [political science 1918–1960]. Following World War II service in the U.S. Naval Reserve, where he commanded an LST in the Western Pacific, he took MA and PhD degrees at Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University.

In addition to his 20 years in university administration, Gregory held teaching appointments on the faculties of Pomona College, the Claremont Graduate School, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Portland State University, American University, and Florida International. He was a Fulbright Lecturer in Ecuador and Visiting Scholar at Cambridge University, England. He received the Order of Civil Merit from the King of Spain for his role in creating a national Economic Study Center.

In 1988, he traveled to Central America and the Caribbean as director of a newly formed Center for Democratic Development, and in 1993 he was named chairman of the board of trustees for the International Fine Arts College in Miami.

In addition to his wife, Mary Ann, Gregory is survived by children Laura Ann, Gregory Nelson and Melissa Helene Wolfe; grandchildren Galen Nelson and Anna Wolfe Pauly and Marie Elise Wolfe-Callahan; and great-grandchild Ko Sugihara Pauly.

Francis P. King ’44

March 3, 2016, New York, New York

Francis earned a BS degree at the University of Oregon before coming to Reed to study in the premeteorology program. During World War II, he served as a radar maintenance officer for B-29s on Tinian and in the Philippines. After the war, he earned an MA degree in international relations at Stanford as well as a PhD in political science. He studied as a Fulbright Scholar at the École des Sciences Politiques in Paris, and in 1953 joined Teachers Insurance and Annuity Association-College Retirement Equities Fund (TIAA-CREF), where he directed numerous studies and publications in the field of retirement and insurance benefits. Frank also coauthored a number of books in the benefits field, and his book, Financing the College Education of Faculty Children (Henry Holt, 1954), led to the establishment of Tuition Exchange, Inc., which he chaired from 1967 to 1987. His spouse, Kelly Karavites, two nephews, and a niece survive him.

Ralph Theodore Leber ’44 December 26, 2015, Ellensburg, Washington

Having led a life of achievement and adventure, Ted passed away at the age of 94. Living life to the fullest, he spent every waking minute pursuing his wide-ranging interests. Born in Seattle, Ted spent his early years in Riverside, Washington, immersed in the rugged and self-sufficient life of the West, which he loved. His early years were spent on horseback, and in the great outdoors as a mountaineer, as a ski instructor at Sun Valley, and on the baseball field, where “Dutch” Leber was a star pitcher for Roosevelt High School. Summers were spent climbing the tallest mountains in the state or serving as fire lookout and fire fighter for the Forest Service. On one of his many ascents of Mt. Rainier, he met Ann Elise Ellsworth; he married her in 1943 and celebrated 72 years of marriage a few months before his passing.

Ted started college at the University of Washington, but was unimpressed with the level of mathematics. While skiing in Sun Valley, he met the daughter of a Princeton professor who said he should look into either Stanford or Reed.

Ted’s father hated California so he went to Reed, arriving as a sophomore. Two of his brothers, Bruce and Lewis, also attended Reed, as did their wives.

During World War II Ted served in the Army Air Corps/Air Forces and was stationed throughout the U.S. as a flight instructor for fighter pilots.

As time permitted, he took courses near his airbases, attending eight colleges and universities in Washington, Oregon, Wisconsin, and Texas.

Due to wartime transfers he never obtained a college degree, but he always placed a high value

on lifelong education. “Reed was head and shoulders above any other school,” he said. “It opened my horizons and was the best—hands down!”

After the war, Ted continued recreational flying, and during one of his flights spotted a small farm near the summit of Cougar Mountain, outside of Issaquah, Washington. He and Ann purchased the farm, which had been homesteaded by a Swedish family, and which still lacked modern conveniences. There they raised milk cows, sheep, ducks, chickens, geese, dogs, cats, and five children.

During this time, Ted worked at the Ralph Leber Printing Ink Company and eventually became its president. In 1956, he joined with nine others to form Associated Vintners, the first premium varietal winery in Washington State.

Ted helped plant AV’s first vineyard in Sunnyside, Washington, and served as vineyard manager for the next 20 years. Not only did he pioneer fine wine production and appreciation, he also collaborated with Seattle restaurateur François Kissel (Maximilien’s and Brasserie Pittsbourg) to pair fine wine with fine cuisine. Later he teamed with the Evergreen Trailways bus company to design and run wine-themed tours of state wineries, launching agritourism in the Northwest.

After retiring, Ted cofounded a company that made furniture components out of alder, a locally abundant wood. He was active in his church, Elderhostel, and supported a wide variety of environmental, cultural, and disaster-relief causes. He took up distance running, successfully competing in triathlons, and became a practitioner on matters of health, fitness, and nutrition.

With his retirement, he and Ann began exploring the world and had a particular fondness for France, where they would rent homes for extended stays with the family in the Alps or in Burgundy. Just shy of his 90th birthday, he returned to his love of sailing by crossing the Atlantic on a tall ship.

He and Ann moved to Ellensburg 16 years ago, and rather than sell the old farm, they made the land and the house available for educational purposes. Today it houses the Open Window School, which honors Ted and Ann with its Leber Library.

Ted is survived by his wife, Ann; his children, Ralph Eric ’72, Christie Ann Linnel, Laurie Elise, Tia Marie, and Mark; grandchildren, Laura, Anna, Christopher, Jessie, Anelise, Britta, Marianne, and Daniel; and great-grandchildren, Alex and Ryan.

Eleanor May ’45 February 2, 2016, New Jersey

Her parents, both college graduates, assumed that Eleanor and her two sisters would go to college.

“But they weren’t in any position to provide the means for our living on campuses,” Eleanor remembered. She won

a small scholarship at Reed. In the fall of 1941, the tuition was $250, and by living at home she could afford to “go to college.”

She had not been happy in high school, which was cliquish; the kids didn’t like “brains.” “Coming to Reed was like finding heaven,” she said. “It was great. I was a chemistry major, not because I had any ability whatsoever, but because I fancied myself a mathematician. I didn’t know what anybody majoring in math would do. I fancied the white coat, and majoring in chemistry actually served me in good stead.”

In the beginning, there were very few women in her chemistry, math, or physics classes. But after the U.S. entered the war, there was an ongoing depletion of men. In her graduating chemistry class there were three students, and one of them was Frank Weisenborn ’45, to whom she was married for 32 years.

She loved skating on Reed Lake alongside Oscar the swan.

“Oscar was a beautiful swan. You wanted to sing Swan Lake as you observed him,” she remembered. “He must have been lonely. I’ve heard that swans mate for life, but he was all alone. I wonder what happened to him.”

Eleanor remembered there were rules about socializing on campus in those days. “You could drink on campus, but you couldn’t drink in mixed company. Also, if you sat together on the couch or whatever, you had to keep one foot on the floor.”

She came away from Reed with an appreciation for the classics. “There wasn’t even a classics department then,” she said. “But we had a wonderful background, starting with the Code of Hammurabi, and coming up through Homer, Socrates, and Euripides. It enchanted me all my life.”

She married Frank a month after graduation and they moved to Seattle, where he went to graduate school at the University of Washington.

“It was just accepted that men would go to graduate school and women would work their husband’s way through,” she said. “We were very useful people. I got to go to graduate school about 20 years later.”

When her four children were young, she edited a local newspaper in New Brunswick, New Jersey, and was a member of the school board. She was an elementary school teacher and later taught math at Dunellen High School.

After earning her master’s degree, she became an instructor in mathematics at Douglass College, Rutgers University. In 1973, she began a 30-year career as managing and technical editor for the Annals of Mathematics at the Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton University. She devoted herself wholeheartedly to this work and found it genuinely satisfying. She enjoyed collegial relationships with some of the most brilliant minds at Princeton and continued working parttime well into her retirement years, cherishing the fulfillment of her work and the association with respected colleagues.

Eleanor was also a passionate political activist, supporting the causes she believed in and campaigning tirelessly for her candidates of choice. She played bridge and competitive tennis and loved to travel. With her many friends she shared her love of intellectual and cultural pursuits, including a deep appreciation for the classics and opera.

Eleanor is survived by her four children, Alan Weisenborn (and his wife Dulce) of Miami, Florida; Lynn Appleby (and her husband Michael) of Charlottesville, Virginia; Eric Weisenborn of Beaverton, Oregon, Robert Weisenborn (and his wife Leigh Anne) of Lambertville, New Jersey, two grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

Augustus Tanaka ’45 December 14, 2015, Ontario, Oregon

Born to Dr. Benjamin and Michiye Tanaka in Portland, Gus graduated from Grant High School in 1941 and started at Reed that fall.

Within months his world was turned upside down by the United States’ entry into the Second World War. “Four hours after Pearl Harbor,” Gus said, “the FBI was ringing our doorbell.” Agents searched the house for six hours hunting for radio transmitters and receivers, which were never found because they didn’t exist. Instead, the agents confiscated family photo albums and cameras.

Gus’s father, a Hawaiian-born American citizen, was arrested on unfounded charges of being an enemy of the U.S. government and kept in prison camps for over four years.

Because he lived outside the five-mile travel restriction zone imposed on all JapaneseAmericans, Gus needed a security waiver to continue attending Reed. He made his way to Reed averting his eyes from the hostile stares directed at him. In May of his freshman year, Gus and his family were sent to detention camps, first at the Portland International Livestock Pavilion and then at Minidoka, Idaho.

“I thought the world had come to an end when the evacuation came,” Gus said. “That experience was a test of my loyalty. I came out more loyal.

The negative things didn’t harm me, but the good things advanced my future and helped me achieve things that I thought I wouldn’t.”

In the fall of 1942, Dr. Arthur Scott [chemistry 1923–79], who was then the acting president of Reed College, facilitated Gus’s enrollment at Haverford College in Pennsylvania.

“These were nightmarish times,” Gus said. “I am deeply indebted to Reed for its compassionate concern for me. I don’t know how my life would have turned out were it not for Reed’s actions on my behalf at that time.”

In 1944, Gus was drafted into the U.S. Army. june 2016 Reed magazine 41

In Memoriam In 1945, he went to Japan, where he taught the history of war and reading to American soldiers.

After being honorably discharged from the Army, Gus returned to Haverford, where he finished his BA. He went on to get his degree in medicine from the State University of New York Downstate Medical Center in 1951.

In 1953, he married Teruko (Teddy) Wada, having met her on a blind date. Their three children were born during his surgical residency in Manhattan. The family later moved to Ontario, Oregon, where he and his father opened the Tanaka Clinic in 1959, and where Gus worked tirelessly until he retired.

Gus ser ved as the Oregon Medical Association’s first minority president in 1971– 72, was a delegate to the American Medical Association’s House of Delegates, president of the Malheur County Medical Society, and a member of the Oregon State Board of Medical Examiners. In 1993, the Oregon Foundation for Medical Excellence chose Gus as Outstanding Physician. Passionate about “giving back,” he was honored by many organizations for his service, including being chosen Citizen of the Year by the Ontario Chamber of Commerce.

Gus is survived by his wife, Teddy; his three children and their spouses, Maja and Cordell Berge, John and Ann Tanaka, and Susie and Larry Nielson; his younger brother, Karl Tanaka; five grandchildren, Alison Tanaka, Megan Tanaka Kmetz , Briana Tanaka, Ryan Nielson, and Kate Nielson Brodkin; and a great-grandson, Sage Wilder Kmetz.

Patricia Drauch ’47

December 14, 2015, Portland, Oregon

Patty passed away peacefully at the age of 90 in the home of Vicky and Mike Cojocariu, where she had lived for the past four and a half years, with loving friends at her side.

She was born in Tacoma, Washington, to Andrew and Louise Drauch, and by the age of five was attending boarding school in Vancouver at the Washington State School for the Blind. Patty would recall how difficult it was to be so far away from her family at such a tender age, but was grateful for the education she received.

A bright and gifted student, she graduated early from high school and attended Reed for a year prior to entering the workforce. She had a number of different jobs before taking a position at what is now Oregon Health and Science University as a secretary/transcriptionist for the autopsy service, a position she held for 30 years until retirement. She loved her work there and all the interesting people she met over the years.

42 Reed magazine june 2016

Patty enjoyed a long and healthy retirement, staying busy in her northeast Portland home.

She loved to garden and work in her yard, knit, and travel. She hosted all manner of get-togethers, and was especially fond of live theatre and musical performances. For many years she sang at the St. Rose Catholic Church. She was an active member of the Oral Hull Foundation in Sandy, which provides a 22-acre park as a special place for persons with blindness or poor vision, and had a vacation home there. She participated actively in a number of organizations to promote independent living for the blind.

Patty was the matriarch of her family and enjoyed hosting holiday meals and many parties. She had a large circle of friends who loved her dearly and will be remembered for her grace, wit, and wisdom, as well as for her beautiful smile, mischievous giggle, and impeccable sense of style.

She had a life well lived.

Jerome Stern ’48

December 20, 2015, Portland, Oregon

Devoted son, adoring little brother, loving husband and father, Jerry was also an entrepreneur, community leader, philanthropist, and so much more.

He was born to immigrant parents, idolized his older brothers, Sol and Reuben, and suffered with the family through serious health issues and increasingly difficult financial straits. These experiences informed his life, leaving him forever able to empathize with the pain and difficulties of others.

Jerry began working in the shipyards as a chipper at the age of 15. After graduating from Lincoln High School, Jerry came to Reed, where he studied premed. After a year and a half of college he enlisted in the U.S. Army, and then obtained compassionate leave to care for his parents. Consequently, he grew up quickly, and took on serious responsibilities in his late teens.

At a dance he met Helen Rubenstein, a teenager from Medford, and pursued her to UC Berkeley, where he charmed her into marrying him. Vivacious and beautiful, Helen was the strength behind Jerry and a full partner in all his accomplishments. Together they faced life’s storms and triumphs for 67 years.

In 1969, he founded Familian Northwest, often considered his “fourth child.” It grew from a group of six men working out of a trailer near the Banfield Freeway to a multi-state wholesale

plumbing and pipe empire with 50 branches and more than 2,500 employees. He and his son, Tom, were devoted to their employees, always seeking opportunities to foster their growth and wellbeing. When they sold the company in 1988, Jerry embarked on a career of philanthropy. Active in the Portland Jewish community, he served on numerous boards, supported IRCO, Portland Center Stage, and countless Oregon Jewish agencies and synagogues.

Jerry was also active in his support of Reed, establishing the Sol Stern and Jerry Stern Scholarship for students in financial need in honor of his beloved older brother Sol Stern ’38.

Generous with his time and money, he quietly performed acts of kindness. He fulfilled a lifelong dream to find and help his first cousins, living in a closed military/industrial city in Russia, move to the United States. After years of research and mountains of red tape, Jerry and Helen traveled to Saratov, where he was united with his family. Ultimately he brought 25 relatives to Portland, financing their resettlement, providing homes, jobs and medical care for them.

He joined the board of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, which had resettled his parents, and served as Western Regional Chairman of United Jewish Appeal, leading numerous international missions to educate people on the plight of refugees. One of his most ambitious accomplishments was to charter a 737 to bring refugees to Israel from Russia.

Jerry is survived by his wife, Helen; children, Eve Stern and Les Gutfreund, Tom and Mary Jane Stern, and Sharon Stern and Stephen Rallison; grandchildren, Benjamin and Gail Singer, Anna and Eric Kodesch, Hailey and Evan Bernstein, Jonathan Singer, Bradley and Lara Stern, Harrison Hess, Alexander Hess and Lindsey Stern; and 12 great-grandchildren.

Bernard R. Wolff ’48

January 6, 2016, Portland, Oregon, decline due to dementia

A graduate of Washington High School in Portland, Bernie attended Reed before transferring to and graduating from Oregon State University with a degree in zoology.

He attended Portland State University to earn credits for an elementary education certificate and later got his doctorate of education from the University of Oregon.

Bernie had a strong work ethic and worked hard at Sheridan Fruit Company during his high school years and intermittently thereafter. He started his own produce box distribution business with a Sheridan colleague, but was forced to sell his share when he was drafted during the Korean Conflict, serving two years and a day in the Army, stationed at

the Presidio in San Francisco. After he was discharged, he began teaching elementary education in Toledo, Oregon, in 1954, and then in Lake Oswego, beginning in 1958. In 1962, he was hired by Lewis & Clark as an associate professor of education, and taught there for 25 years, eventually rising to chair the undergraduate education department. After retiring in 1987, Bernie served as a teacher’s aide at Arleta Elementary School in Southeast Portland and Garibaldi Elementary School.

In an autobiographical essay, Bernie wrote: “I believe teaching is ‘increasing the probability that learning will take place.’”

While at Reed, he met Sara Lee Reynolds ’49, a fellow biology student. They dated and were married while Bernie was stationed in the Army in San Francisco. They had two sons, Christopher and Scott. In 1982, Sara Lee passed away following a courageous battle with breast cancer.

Bernie became involved with a death and dying support group, where he met Carol Rouillard. The couple married in 1985.

Bernie believed in showing his love by giving care to family and friends, including his mother and father, Sara Lee through her years with cancer, and Carol’s daughter following a debilitating automobile accident. He cared for the community as well, volunteering for many organizations, including the Everett Street Drop-In Center, FISH Emergency Services, Oregon Education Association, Sellwood Moreland Improvement League (SMILE), Ecumenical Ministries of Oregon, Salvation Army, and many other church and peace-related committees. Bernie and Carol also volunteered for community projects in New Zealand, Ireland, and Costa Rica. He is survived by his wife, Carol, son Chris (Terrie), son Scott (Concetta), grandchildren Andy, Erin, Leslie, Allegra, and Ariana, and by stepdaughters, Michelle Rouillard, and her daughter, Lauren Lebov, and Holly Johnson, her husband Perry, and their son, Andre.

experience provided me with a sharpened awareness of not only what I could expect to receive from society, but also, especially, what I could do to serve society.”

For the rest of their lives he and Annamae continued to socialize with a small group of Reed graduates and were generous supporters of the college.

Bill got an MA in education from the University of Oregon in 1955 and began a 36-year career in education. He taught U.S. history and was instrumental in establishing some of the first special education services and centers in Portland public schools.

Annamae, who taught first grade, died in 1976. In 1992, Bill married his longtime friend and colleague, Helen Stricklin, who died in 2005.

His son, Joel, died in 2006. His children, Mark Clawson and Janice Larson, and grandchildren, Maggie and William Larson and Taylor Clawson survive him.

Barbara Bauman Liveright ’51

September 6, 2014, Lutherville, Maryland

Barbara attended Reed before switching to Johns Hopkins University, where she got her BS in nursing in 1953. She worked for years as a public health nurse with the Baltimore City Health Department. Once asked about the highlights of her post-Reed years, she answered, “One good husband. Three fine children. One steady job, which is interesting. This is enough for me!”

She is survived by her husband, Peter Block Liveright; son Todd and his wife Debi; daughters Susan L. Kline (Stephen) and Jennifer Murphy (Robert); nine grandchildren, and 11 great-grandchildren.

Orval “Bill” Clawson ’49 January 13, 2016, Portland, Oregon

Bill will be remembered both for his dedication to his family and friends and his public service.

Born the eldest of four children, he grew up in Portland and attended Grant High School before serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II. After the war, he attended Reed, where he met his wife, Annamae Armstrong ’50. Together they raised three children and enjoyed a life filled with public service and enduring friendships.

Bill earned his BA in economics from Reed, where he wrote his thesis, “The Problem of Skilled Labor Supply in an Industrial Society: Oregon’s Apprenticeship Program” with Prof. F. Eugene Melder [economics 1946–49].

“The Reed experience made it possible for me to sort out my values and determine guidelines for my goals in life,” Bill said. “I believe that

Roger Ives Miller ’52 July 1, 2015, Graton, California

An Oregon native, Roger attended Reed, where he studied nuclear chemistry. He wrote his thesis, “Irradiation Experiments Using the New Co⁶⁰ Source” with Prof. Arthur F. Scott [chemistry 1923–79]. At Reed he met and married Barbara Jean Goldman ’52. After graduation, Roger worked at the Hanford Nuclear Site before going on to earn a master’s in radiation biology from the University of Rochester and study health physics at Brookhaven National Laborataory in Long Island, New York. Roger and Barbara then moved to California, where they raised their family. For 12 years he was a

radiation chemist for Aerojet’s nuclear facility in San Ramon, California, and then worked for many years as chemistry/radiation superintendent at the Rancho Seco Nuclear Facility near Sacramento. After taking an early retirement, Roger enjoyed many active years of managing his small farms, volunteering, making homebrew, playing the piano, and devising ways to keep turkeys out of his gardens. Barbara died in 2002. Roger is survived by his four daughters: Alexi Miller, Alyssa Miller (who attended Reed 1977-79), Wendy Gibson, and Trudy Miller Penning; and three grandchildren.

Helen Perkins ’55

October 29, 2015, Palmer, Alaska

Helen died peacefully at home surrounded by her family and her favorite dog, Molly. Born in Chico, California, she attended Reed in 1953– 55. She began her teaching career by traveling to Europe, stopping in Germany, where she taught for two years. Returning from Germany, she detoured to Alaska and met Jim Messick, literally over a smoking gun barrel in his bedroom following an ice-skating party. They became engaged after dating for two weeks, and were married for 38 years.

Helen used her passion for literacy to teach reading and writing, and her students loved her creative approaches. In 1972, she became the full-time mother of two children, Mike and Jennifer, a part-time Avon lady, and— in the 1980s—the statewide distributor for Bosch Kitchen Machines, maintaining more than 100 authorized dealers and demonstrators. Celebrated as the “Bread Lady,” she baked loaves of bread by the hundreds to raise funds for school trips and taught bread making at community schools and the state fair. She also bestowed the gift of reading on many illiterate children and adults on her own and through the Anchorage Literacy Project.

After retiring, she and Jim operated a bed and breakfast on Lake Lucille for 13 years.

She enjoyed being a member of the Rose and Garden Club and her church, Wasilla Lake Church of the Nazarene. She is survived by her son, Mike Messick (Heather); and grandsons Ethan, Erek, Aedan, and Adam Messick; her daughter, Jennifer Messick Gilmour (Walt); and grandson, Luke Gilmour; and her sister, Jean Nilson (Gary).

Deirdre Dexter Malarkey ’57 November 12, 2015, Sequim, Washington, pulmonary embolism

Born into a New York society family, Didi grew up in Croton-on-Hudson, the youngest of five children raised in a culture of art, music, dance, and commerce. A playful child, she was quick to laugh and loved exploring, whether around the next bend in the Catskills woods or on the streets of Manhattan, where her father moved after her parents divorced. When Didi june 2016 Reed magazine 43

In Memoriam

Merritt Linn ’58

was seven, her mother remarried and moved her two daughters, the family pets, and governess to Los Alamos, New Mexico, motoring across the country in the family Packard.

In the 8th grade, following the family tradition, Didi was sent off to a private boarding school in Putney, Vermont. She started at Reed when she was 16.

Taking time off to teach skiing in Austria, she was courted by an amorous count who proposed to her. She declined the proposal and then met Stoddard Malarkey ’55 on a ski trip to Mount Hood. His first proposal was along the lines, “We ought to get married,” and Didi dove into the adjacent swimming pool and swam away. When he finally said, “Will you marry me?” she agreed, wedding him in 1955 and raising three sons, primarily in Eugene, where Stoddard taught at the University of Oregon. The family lived in Eugene and Tumalo, Oregon. Stoddard died in 1990.

Didi was incredibly proud of her family’s connection to Reed. Two children, a cousin, a nephew, sister-in-law, and her in-laws all attended. She got her BA in literature, writing her thesis about Jane Austen with Prof.

Donald MacRae [English 1944–73]. At the University of Oregon she earned an MLS and both a master’s and a doctorate in geography.

Professionally Didi worked as a high school teacher, librarian, archivist, geography teacher, paralegal, and as a commissioner for both the Oregon State Water Commission and the Oregon Department of Environmental Quality.

After her husband died, she joined the Peace Corps in 1992, building and outfitting libraries in Grenada.

In 2005, she moved from Eugene to Port Angeles, Washington, to be nearer to family and her two grandchildren, Claire and Lucy.

She also formed a close friendship with Mia Cruz, the daughter of her son Gordon’s former wife, Pringl. These three girls survive Didi, in addition to her sons Gordon ’84, Peter ’86, and John, their wives, Lynn and Kerry; and her sister Anne.

Had Alzheimer’s not overtaken her last seven to eight years, Didi certainly would have continued in her diverse interests. She still skied at age 73. In fact, she was generally healthy, walking and with few ailments other than dementia. Even in the last few years her awareness was intact—she would point out birds in bushes or trees that weren’t easy to spot. Her final days were marked with peacefulness, curious eyes, and a smile. She favored a wheelchair and talked less than she had before, but on occasion still possessed a verbal feistiness and that undeniable presence that never left her.

Doctor, author, and philanthropist, Merritt was bor n in C hicago to Theodore and Dina Linn.

When Merritt was nine the family moved to Salem, Oregon, where the family became influenti al in the city ’s Jewish community.

After graduating from Reed he got his MD from Oregon Health & Science University.

Merritt had a 40-year ophthalmology practice in Portland, which was especially dedicated to the study of diabetes and its impact on vision.

While he took great pride in his medical practice, his true passions were community service, education, the arts, and family. He helped establish Portland’s Florence Melton Adult Mini-School for adult Jewish education and the Rabbi Joshua Stampfer Community Enrichment Award, which acknowledges service in the greater Portland community.

In 1982, Merritt wrote A Book of Songs, the story of a boy living in a concentration camp that may or may not be situated in Europe during the Holocaust. The New York Times Book Review called it “a stark, ghastly and powerful first novel about spiritual survival in a concentration camp… Mr. Linn’s novel is one I would not have wanted to miss.”

The haunting allegory conveyed the importance of family, art, and humanity in the face of the harshest realities and won a Pacific Northwest Bookseller Award. To gain inspiration while writing the book, Merritt returned to the Reed library and sat in his old chair every night for a month.

“That would put me in the mood so my imagination could go to work,” he said. “Going [back] to Reed was like walking through a museum with many wonderful things. In retrospect I’m realizing just what value that had. A whole world was opened to me, and going back to it helped me to be a writer.”

Merritt married Natalie Fay Newman in 1965, and they had two children, Jodi Linn Coleman and Keith I. Linn. In 1995, he met Susan Korey, and they enjoyed a 20-year relationship. He often referred to Susan as his copilot. Shortly before he died, his children asked him for words of guidance for his three beloved grandchildren. Merritt emphasized the importance of self-determination, reciprocity, and treating all people as if you and they were part of the same world.

He is survived by Susan, his children, sonin-law Kenneth Coleman; daughter-in-law Lisa Ludwig; grandchildren, Casey and Jane Coleman and Walter Linn; sister and brother-in-law Karen and Richard Solomon; and sister and brotherin-law Nikki and Stuart Director.

44 Reed magazine june 2016

January 24, 2016, Portland.

Richard L. Hopkins ’59 November 25, 2015, Portland, Oregon, complications due to Alzheimer’s.

Born in Vancouver, Washington, to Leon and Louisa Hopkins, Richard attended Reed, where he earned a BA in literature, writing a thesis entitled “Pope’s Epistle to Burlington.” He received a master’s degree from Washington University in St. Louis and was cofounder and editor of the Oregon Wine Press from 1984 to 2004. Richard was a lover of words, books, and dressing for the occasion.

Robert DeRight’60

February 13, 2016, Hartsdale, New York, lung failure

Raised in Wilmington, Delaware, Robert skipped two grades in elementary school and completed the seventh and eighth grade in one year. He attended an all-boys Catholic high school and graduated at the age of 14.

“In high school I had no social life,” he remembered. “It was hard to play sports because I was much smaller than anyone else. I was considered ‘The Brain.’”

Considered too young to start college, he attended a prep school in Massachusetts. After the regimentation of prep school, he expressed the desire to attend a small liberal arts college, and his parents—whom he described as “good, solid, suburban Republicans”—were impressed with Reed after reading an article about the college in the Saturday Evening Post titled “School for Smart Young Things.”

He started at Reed when he was 17, the first time he’d ever attended a co-ed school. Bob remembered that an air of ’30s radicalism still hung over the campus, and even though televisions occupied a central place in American living rooms, there were almost none on campus. He recalled watching television at Reed only when the college played in the College Bowl.

He was fascinated by 19th-century history; for his thesis, he wrote about Count Alfred von Schlieffen, a German field marshal who developed a radical military strategy in the event of war with France: that Germany would invade Belgium, violating the neutrality of the Low Countries, and thereby outflank the French.

“In a modified fashion that is what happened in the First World War,” Robert said, “and it had a lot of consequences beyond the military. It may have changed the nature of warfare.”

After graduating from Reed, he started at Yale, but quit after a year because it reminded him of prep school. It was the year the Berlin Wall was built, and Bob’s draft number was up. Following the lead of Reed colleagues who had gone through the Army language program, he enlisted and went to a Mandarin Chinese language school.

“Reed and the Army were my true educational experiences,” he said. “The Army contributed a lot to my growing up. One of the things Reed did was give me a catholicity of interests. Reed taught me to be curious, and to explore, and not to limit myself.”

When he left the service he felt prepared to return to Yale Law School. “I’ve always thought of Yale as the Reed of law schools,” he said. “Yale liked Reed students, admitted them fairly freely, and gave them the benefit of many doubts.”

At Yale he sometimes took meals with former Reed classmates living in a New Haven community house. One of the people living there was a teacher named Marilyn Goler, whom he married in 1969.

For most of his career Bob was a commercial litigator. He explained that in New York that didn’t mean a lot of trial work. Rather, there were lots of depositions and motion practice, and a great deal of intellectual game playing, which he enjoyed. One of his most celebrated cases was the insurance litigation connected with the destruction of the World Trade Center. In addition to being an avid traveler, bridge player, reader of history, and lover of opera, theatre, and film, he will be remembered as brilliant, wry, loyal, and mischievous.

Bob is survived by his wife, Marilyn, son Daniel (Elizabeth), daughter Kate (Paul), sisters Martha DeRight and Mary Lu Geiger, and granddaughters Tillie and Greta.

Donald L. Uppendahl ’61

February 11, 2016, Bend, Oregon Born in Springfield, Colorado, Donald grew up in Kansas. He married Margarette Wohl; they moved to Portland and raised a family. A graduate of the University of Colorado, Don earned his MA at Reed and taught at Washington High School and Portland Community College, retiring as dean of business and industry. Serving in the U.S. Army and the U.S. Army Reserve, he retired as colonel.

Don was an avid outdoorsman who climbed several Cascade peaks. The couple moved to Bend in 1999, where he lovingly cared for Margarette as she battled Alzheimer’s disease. His daughters, Carol, Sue, Rebecca, and Mary; eight grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren survive him.

Alene Biederman Cisney ’62

July 30, 2014, Manchester, Washington, ovarian cancer

A consummate librarian and activist, Alene was born to Albert and Marguerite Biederman. Albert was a colonel in the U.S. Army Medical Corps, and the family lived in a variety of locations in the United States and Europe as Alene was growing up. Eventually the family settled in the Pacific Northwest, and she began her undergraduate career at Reed when she was 17. She got a kick out of harmlessly sneaking into various college buildings with her friends after hours and the campus-sponsored folk dances. She studied calligraphy under Prof. Lloyd Reynolds [English 1929–69], and earned her BA in English literature, writing a thesis titled, “Themes and Images in Julius Caesar: Sickness, Fire, Spirits, and the Countenance.” Alice left campus with an enduring love of arts and sign making—a talent she

employed for the rest of her life.

At loose ends after college, she worked as a calligrapher and continued to take classes for fun at the University of Washington, where she had a part-time job. During this time a human resources representative at the Seattle Public Library changed her life with the observation that one who so clearly loved learning and spending time in the library might be well suited to a career as a professional librarian.

Alene enrolled in the university’s masters in librarianship program, where she was introduced to both her vocational calling and her husband, fellow student Eric Cisney. The two were married in August of 1966, the great romance of their graduating class.

Alene went on to work for 10 years as a cataloger at Seattle University, simultaneously earning a second BA in French and helping to illustrate a local edition of the famous Marchand Method French immersion textbook, La Famille Dupont.

When her daughter was born in 1976, Alene took a hiatus, returning in the early 1980s to serve for many years as manager of the Manchester branch of the Kitsap Regional Library and then as a reference librarian at the Port Orchard branch. She passed on her love of learning to generations of library patrons as well as to her daughter, who followed in her parents’ professional footsteps. Upon retiring, Alene shifted her focus from serving individuals through the library to serving future generations through political activism. Passionate about a range of social issues, she wrote essays and made signs and banners to provide clear and persuasive support for the candidates and causes she believed in.

She is survived by her husband, Eric; daughter, Anne; granddaughter, Kehdrin; sister, Ann Thorson; and many devoted pets.

Judith Black Craise ’63 March 11, 2015, Oakland, California

Judith majored in literature and wrote her thesis, “The World of Clamence: a Study of La chute

by Albert Camus,” with Prof. Kaspar Locher [German 1950–88]. After moving to the Bay Area, she worked as a deputy clerk in the U.S. Court of Appeals in San Francisco.

After 21 years of marriage, she divorced and began building a life that was more to her liking, including taking in the rich cultural life of the Bay Area, writing and traveling. She began freelance writing and copyediting.

“I never dreamed after leaving Reed that I would have the free time to devote to writing,” she wrote at the time of her 30th class reunion.

When she looked back at her years on campus she remembered the spring flowers that bloomed after the winter rains, and the stimulating conversations when she dropped by the coffee shop any time of day.

“Reed gave me the self-discipline and

intellectual background to try writing on my own,” she said.

In the ’90s, Judith became convinced that environmental concerns and human rights violations would be the issues of the future. She spent the last years of her life dedicated to these issues.

Billy Woods Hillman ’63 July 15, 2015

Billy was born in Clay Center, Kansas, the only child of N.L. Hillman and Velma Rose Woods.

After two years in the Army he obtained a BA from Whitworth College and then got his MA in teaching from Reed in 1963. He received his master’s of education and a PhD in educational psychology from the University of Oregon. For 28 years he was a professor of counseling and guidance at the University of Arizona.

After retiring, he established a private practice for 10 years as a family and relationship therapist. He served as president of the Arizona chapter of the American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy and was an active member of the Immanuel Presbyterian Church.

A respected author and teacher, he extended his knowledge and caring spirit to numerous humanitarian causes and interfaith organizations, such as the Southern Arizona LGBT Faith Alliance and Humane Borders.

He enjoyed reading, hiking, fishing, camping ,and travel abroad. Billy is survived by his wife of 58 years, Betty Marie (Bartke) Hillman, whom he met in the sixth grade in Concord, California; two daughters, Debi Demijohn and husband Russell, and Susan de Alban and husband Luis; and two granddaughters, Laurissa and Kimberly Demijohn. His eldest daughter, Cindy, preceded him in death.

David Haley ’65

December 16, 2015, Seattle, Washington

David was born in Tacoma, Washington, to Frank and Nellie Haley, and enjoyed a happy childhood with his twin brother, Jonathan, and sister, Janet.

He attended Reed and obtained a master’s degree in economics from Pacific Lutheran University.

In 1965, when he was 21, he was paralyzed in a car accident. Using a wheelchair did not deter him from living a full life. He was employed in the Washington State House of Representatives and the Department of Revenue in Olympia and worked for the City of Seattle in the budget office for 25 years.

Having played baseball in high school and college, David loved sports. He served as an assistant basketball coach at PLU, and when his children showed interest in soccer, he too became a fan, coaching women’s soccer at Seattle’s Roosevelt and Franklin high schools june 2016 Reed magazine 45

In Memoriam for many years. Teaching soccer and life skills to his teenager players was one of the great joys in his life. He was a compassionate man who served on United Way boards, sponsored three Vietnamese families in the 1970s, headed an independent living project at the University of Washington, and worked fervently to feed the homeless in Seattle.

David is survived by his wife of 44 years, Mary Ellen; seven children and their loving partners, Brent (Mitzi), Matthew (Andrea), Jason (Emily), Sean (Michelle), Dung (Lan), Quang (Chi) and Maya (Jamie); and grandchildren. For his last 12 years David was accompanied by Kudo, his devoted service dog, who followed his master into eternity, dying five days later.

Philip Blumstein ’66

March 15, 1991, Seattle, Washington, AIDS

A social psychologist skilled at analyzing everyday encounters, friendships, and business relationships, Philip was hired as a sociology professor at the University of Washington in 1969 and became renowned for his research in human sexuality and relationships.

He had a reputation for fastidious methodology and a talent for interpreting data. In 1983, Philip and his longtime friend and colleague, Dr. Pepper Schwartz, collaborated on the best-selling book American Couples. Based on research using 12,000 questionnaires and 600 follow-up interviews, the book covered everything from how often couples had sex to who did the housework. It was considered a landmark study of what contributes to the success or failure of relationships. Philip and Schwartz had begun studying sexual behavior in 1972, igniting a professional partnership that would last 18 years. In addition to numerous professional publications, the two men cowrote articles that appeared in such popular magazines as Ladies’ Home Journal, Playboy, and Redbook.

At Reed, Philip’s student thesis, “Effects 46 Reed magazine june 2016

of the Educational Reward System of a Professional Academically Oriented College” was written with Prof. John Pock [sociology 1955–98] advising. He received his MA and PhD from Vanderbilt University.

Because of his research in human sexuality and relationships, when he was dying of AIDS he wanted to be up-front about it.

“He wanted to make a political statement,” said Schwartz. “He hit the wrong moment of time epidemiologically.”

Philip is survived by his lifetime partner, Gerry Jordan.

Theron Friedman ’66 August 19, 2015, Tucson, Arizona

Terry grew up in Detroit.

A math major, he came to Reed for his last two years of undergraduate work and wrote a thesis, “The Natural Numbers in Set Theory.” He went on to graduate school at the University of Oregon.

For the most part, he worked in computer-related support of planetary space research and at the University of Arizona as a computer specialist. He also had a passion for folk dancing. Molly Stafford ’66 remembers that his middle name was A-Z because his parents wanted him to have a middle initial, but wanted him to choose his own. He thought A-Z was perfect. His wife, Sara Heitshu, and a faithful beagle survive Terry.

John Grandine ’66

January 13, 2014, Hartford, Wisconsin

The youngest of seven children born to Lester and Amy Grandine, John grew up on the family’s 80-acre farm near Crandon, Wisconsin. After graduating from Crandon High School, he earned a degree in botany from the University of Wisconsin–Madison, graduating in 1960. For the next three summers he attended Reed to get his MAT in mathematics.

Back in Wisconsin, he joined his father-in-law, Robert Klockow, Sr., on the faculty of Hartford Union High School For the next 40 years he inspired students by teaching mathematics, coaching cross-country and wrestling, and serving as athletic director and cocurricular coordinator. A devout Christian, John was a member of the First United Methodist Church. He loved fishing, card games, and high school sports. He and his wife, Dorothy, founded the Hartford Duplicate Bridge Club, and John achieved the rank of Gold Life Master with the American Contract Bridge League.

He is survived by his wife; his sons, Thomas (Patricia), and David (Julie); granddaughters Haley, Hannah, Gabrielle, and Madeline; brother Lester; sisters Faith Bentley and Alice Stapel; and brothers-in-law Robert (Barbara) Klockow and E. Dale Thompson.

Charles Despres ’67

February 20, 2016, Crescent City, California

Born in Washington, D.C., Chuck developed a proficiency in languages while living in Pakistan from ages 10 to 13, where the U.S. government employed his father. Rather than attend the international school, Chuck attended local schools where he learned Urdu and Hindi and was exposed to local religions. It was the beginning of his lifelong love of international cultures and languages.

After attending Reed, Chuck received a BA in Chinese history from Stanford University.

He taught English to medical students in Hong Kong, and upon returning to the United States received his teaching credential from UC Berkeley.

He taught and was school principal in Edgewood, California, and married Lyn Taylor. They had two sons, Seth (deceased) and Eli. Chuck also taught English as a second language in the Sunnyvale Elementary School District.

He enjoyed traveling and learning with his second wife, Catherine, and the couple drove across the United States with their dogs, stopping to check out historical landmarks and out-of-way towns. Chuck led with his heart, and wherever they stopped for a meal, he’d leave with new friends. Cathy and his son, Eli, survive him, in addition to his siblings, John and Lani, daughterin-law Kim Roberts, and grandchildren.

Robert William Spooner ’67 February 1, 2016, Florence, Oregon, cancer

Rob left Reed with a degree in mathematics but ended up a magazine publisher, a trajectory he attributed to chaos theory, which holds that small differences in initial conditions yield widely diverging outcomes.

Born and raised in Grapeview, Washington, he was active in 4-H. At Reed he majored first in physics and then in math, writing his thesis, “An Investigation of Elementary Category Theory,” with Prof. John Leadley [math 1956– 93]. After earning his master’s degree in mathematics from the University of Saskatchewan, he discovered that nobody wanted to hire a man with a master’s degree in algebraic topology. So he opened a computer company in in Calgary, Alberta, designing and building operating systems. His first marriage had ended in divorce, and in Calgary he met Alicia Dunn, whom he married in 1978.

The couple returned to the United States in the early ’80s, and Rob worked for five years as associate publisher of Pacific Northwest magazine in Seattle. After moving to Florence, Oregon, the couple purchased Oregon Coast magazine and added other publications, including Northwest Travel, to the mix. Their Mile-by-Mile Guide to the Oregon Coast continues to be a popular guide.

Upon traveling to India, Rob fell in love with the people and the food. He returned home and with his new friends, Praveen and Suji Kumar, started Oregon Technologies, which built the extensive website India9.com. Also while in India, he informally adopted a young man, Anan Jose, helping him to finish college and get a job.

Rob had a penchant for helping others, especially through education, and liked helping young people find their paths in life. He developed two successful internet sites, OHWY.com and U-SHistory.com, which is often recommended as a resource for students. As a member of the Kiwanis, he strived to establish a nonprofit childcare center in Florence.

He is survived by his wife, Alicia; three daughters, Chelsea Spooner ’92, Jennifer Hauge, and Jaci Spooner; two grandchildren, Stephen Hauge and Andalusia Yandell; and sister, Linda Spooner Humphrey (Rusty) of Grapeview.

Joel Schiff ’68

December 27, 2015, New York, New York

The antiques community has lost one of its icons: Joel Schiff unexpectedly died in his apartment over the holidays. He was 72 years old.

Joel’s passion for cast iron and wrought iron cookware is legendary in the antiquing world. Anyone who has ever shopped Brimfield, Madison Bouckville, or Kutztown will know Joel by his familiar question—“Cast iron cookware, per chance? Waffle irons, wafer irons, anything unusual or rare?” You would also know Joel because with one leg and crutches, he was the fastest across any field or show. And in his 70s, he still carried a backpack full of iron — and first aid and lunch and desserts for all his friends. He was so generous. The T-shirt he wore featured rare items that he was seeking.

Joel was active in the Griswold and Cast Iron Cookware Association, the Wagner and Griswold Society, and KOOKS (Kollectors of Old Kitchen Stuff). He resided in New York City, but traveled throughout the United States in pursuit of his obsession. And obsession it was: he sought every piece of antique and vintage iron, cast and wrought, that had to do with cooking or eating. That included items from the 17th century up to the 20th century. Joel especially sought extreme rarities in design or function, from anywhere on earth.

Joel was not only a great friend, but also a great teacher. Sometimes he would start talking about a subject, and an hour later we would not recall what the original question was. He was so erudite that sometimes he would lose us. But we always learned something about the history of mankind, through the lens of iron. One memorable example: I invited Joel to speak to our Antiques Dealers Association of Berks County, the subject being cast and wrought iron cookware.

After a few hours, a few people having nodded off, he finally realized that he had never made it to the 18th or 19th century before running out of time. He spoke about the entire history of iron making in the ancient world, and how the Iron Age depleted forests and how this caused the migration of humans all over the globe.

We never got to ask about what he thought were the rarest wafer iron designs coming from Pennsylvania foundries, which was our interest, but we did learn about the movement of peoples across the globe because of the use of wood in making iron. That was Joel. He shared knowledge in every conversation. We never knew where the conversation would lead.

I happen to know what moment of personal history formed Joel’s quirky attachment to cast iron cookware. Back in his hippie days, he lived with a group of people on a barge between New Jersey and New York City. The barge suffered a devastating fire and all was lost. All except one cast iron frying pan. He said he took it as a sign for his life’s mission, to collect iron pots. That is how it began. And the rest is legend. To those of us who love him, Joel Schiff represents the intense passion of the antiques-collecting movement.

According to his former wife, Ella Schiff, he will be buried in a Boston area cemetery by relatives in Massachusetts.

(This story, written by Arlene Rabin, appeared in Antiques and the Arts Weekly and is reprinted by permission.)

Kurt Randall Myers ’86

December 8, 2015, Chicago, Illinois, heart attack

Born in San Francisco, Kurt earned his bachelor’s degree at Reed with a double major in physics and chemistry, writing an interdisciplinary thesis on “A Relationship of a Trinity: a Linear Approach to Calculate the Ground State Energy of Helium Using the Wave Functions from an Exactly Soluble Free-body Model.”

“I have found that I have quite an open mind and tend to be less judgmental than many of m colleagues,” Kurt once said of his Reed education.

“The small conferences have given me the confidence to speak up in front of perfect strangers without feeling intimidated by them.”

At the University of Chicago he completed his PhD in theoretical chemistry with Dr. Karl Freed as his thesis advisor. Kurt’s publications were on theoretical predictions of polymer interactions with a surface, using renormalization group theory to calculate the polymer unit self-interaction terms.

After getting his doctoral degree in 1992, Kurt designed Angie’s wedding ring, and they were wed on September 5th. Their first home was in Brooklyn, where he clerked at the American Stock Exchange, became a licensed trader, and accepted his first job, at Citibank. Kurt used his software development skills to build a system to price and risk-manage the bank’s treasury portfolio.

He returned to Chicago to work for First Chicago as a liaison between its traders and programmers. After their two children were born, Kurt and Angie decided to move to England, where he worked for QAI and Thomson-Reuters. During their eight years in Greenwich, they explored England, Scotland, and Wales, with adventures in many other countries. When they returned to Chicago in 2012, Kurt became co-founder and CTO of socialmarketanalytics.com (SMA), where he worked tirelessly to ensure reliable data feeds to its growing customer base. His fine intellect and experience as a developer helped him develop new and better products, and left the company with an excellent software infrastructure and strategy for the future. At home, Kurt shared his passions for gaming, gardening, winemaking, reading, baking, astronomy, and the outdoors with his family.

He also had a wicked sense of humor.

Kurt was the beloved husband of Maria De Los Angeles (Angie) Hernandez Myers; the loving father of Raquel and Pierce Myers; the cherished son of Carol Bruch of Pacific Palisades, California, and Jack Myers of Paradise, California; and the dear brother of Margarete Myers Feinstein ’83 (Morley) of Brentwood, California.

John William Redford ’89 November 20, 2015, McMinnville, Oregon

The first of three children, Bill was born to Lyman and Edith Redford in Tacoma, Washington.

During World War II, he served as a medic in the surgical department in a military hospital in Fairbanks, Alaska. He was married to Harriet Reed for 56 years and they had one son, Steven.

Bill received a BA in mathematics from Walla Walla College and later attended Reed, Portland State University, and Andrews University.

A longtime educator, he loved teaching in both public and private schools in Oregon and Washington. After retiring, he continued to teach on a volunteer basis until he was 86. He also drove a school bus, where he enjoyed seeing the kids every day. After Harriet passed, he married Angie Sayler in 2004, gaining three stepdaughters: Cindy, Julienne, and Shelley. They survive Bill, as well as his son, Steven (Dora Sue); sister, Ruth; four grandchildren, and three great grandchildren.

Pending Louise Root Godfrey ’35, Margaret Berger Wallace ’41, Vivienne Bonnin ’44, Lyle Vincent Jones ’44, Oren Richards ’45, Richard Havel ’46, Howard Douglass ’49, Florence Boyrie Williams ’49, Sibyl Halling Belliss ’50, Lois Baker Janzer ’50, Joyce Holen Nelson ’50, Israel Feuer ’53, Thorsten Stromberg ’58, Kathleen Flanningan ’62, Jean Swift Daly ’66, Paul James Clare ’70, Oznathylee Howell Koglin ’74

june 2016 Reed magazine 47

apocrypha t r a d i t i o n • m y t h • l e g e n d

It’s the Saturday before Renn Fayre. Everyone crams into the SU. The movie never starts on time, but when it finally gets rolling, we stomp the battle-scarred wooden floor just a little too soon before David Byrne strums the opening flourish of “Psycho Killer.” The momentum builds as the band plays “Heaven,” and we link arms and sway back and forth.

When they perform “Once in a Lifetime” we shout in unison, “My god! What have I done?”

No place on earth is louder.

To me, a wide-eyed, socially anxious freshman witnessing it for the first time in 2010, Stop Making Sense—the Reed dance partycum-quasi-religious ritual named after the iconic film of the Talking Heads in concert— seemed like a tradition that stretched to the dawn of time. Of course, like all traditions, it does have a starting point. And it might come as a surprise to students and young alumni that the tradition is only about 15 years old.

It started in 2002, when philosophy major

48 Reed magazine june 2016

Harold Gabel ’03 rented a copy of Stop Making Sense. “Right away I was enthralled,” he remembers. He did some reading about the film. “One of the things that really grabbed my attention was these stories about when it was first released,” he says. “There was a trend of spontaneous dance parties breaking out in the cinemas…. And I thought, ‘who says I can’t make that happen again?’”

With help from Erik Cameron ’05 and Ashley Bowen-Murphy ’05, Harold put up some flyers, stuck a keg in a corner of the SU, and held the first screening during spring reading week. “We didn’t actually have a movie screen,” Erik recalls. “We just lashed together a bunch of bedsheets and strung them from the book loft.”

As soon as the event got going, says Harold, “We had people dancing, people literally swinging from the rafters.” The party kept happening, year after year, eventually becoming a tradition.

The music of the Talking Heads does have deeper roots on campus. Keith Allen ’83 says the band was the soundtrack to his time at Reed. He remembers being stopped in his tracks hearing “Take Me to the River” in the SU for the first time one night in 1979. About 25 years later, he was back on campus as an alumnus. “I walked through the same door of the SU… and some current students have hooked a laptop to those same damn speakers and they’re playing ‘Take Me to the River.’”

It was, he says, “a moment of intense connection. The music never stopped mattering, and it’s one of those things that ties us together across generations.”

For younger alumni, the music has become synonymous with Reed. “It reminds me of being around friends, all the people I met at Reed,” says Jeremy Lawrence ’12. “It transports me back to a moment of just pure joy, of being surrounded by people I love.”

Lawrence once had to pull a car over when the Talking Heads came on the radio, “because I was going to start crying.” While Stop Making Sense conjures up joyful memories, hearing it out of context can feel like a punch in the gut. Especially, he says, “if you’re not sure if it’s ever going to be the same.”

Why does this particular music tie Reedies together so powerfully? Gabel muses that “the way the film is structured, it’s kind of primed for a ritualistic engagement.” Lawrence attributes it to the event itself: “I think for [younger Reedies] especially, there are less opportunities to hear the music, so it becomes so strongly associated with that event.”

Somehow, that doesn’t quite pin it down.

As the title suggests, there’s an undercurrent of irrationality to Stop Making Sense.

The film’s power is impossible to explain in words—except, perhaps, David Byrne’s. “This Must Be the Place” is a love song to a person, but I’ve heard it, since that night my freshman year, as a love song to Reed: Home is where I want to be But I guess I’m already there I come home, she lifted up her wings I guess that this must be the place I doubt I’m alone. —KATELYN BEST ’13

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vikram chan-herur ’16

WREATH OF GLORY: Bio major Lily Ben-Avi ’16 dons her laurlels after turning in her thesis.