Heinz Clar.

 

Heinz Clar, my first piano teacher, as well as my sister Barbara’s, was the local Kapellmeister in Bad Kreuznach, Germany where we lived for a few years while my father served in the U.S. Army in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s. We were very fortunate to have such a teacher, a gracious and generous man.

Recently, while sifting through the many papers I collected from my parent’s house when it went up for sale, I came across the concert program pictured below left. Inside was a hand-written note from Herr Clar, as we always addressed him, to my parents, dated October 7, 1973, which I presume was given to them on one of their return visits to Bad Kreuznach. The note was scrawled atop the text of Herr Clar’s history of the symphony cycle, making it hard to read it clearly, but here is what I got from it: “Die liebte Familie Wiebe, in Erinnerung an unsere Jahre in Bad Kreuznach. Mit dem Ausdruck, ‘herzliches Freundschaft’, Heinz Clar, Bad Kreuznach 7. Okt. 1973.”

Note from Herr Clar. Oregon Scribbler.

 

Note translation: To the beloved Wiebe family, In memory of our years together in Bad Kreuznach. With expression of heartfelt friendship, Heinz Clar, Bad Kreuznach, Oct 7, 1973.

This brought back old memories of my early music education and of the man who provided it. From this concert program I was able to glean much more about Herr Clar than I knew or remembered from my youth. He was an experienced Opera orchestra leader and pianist whose career in Braunschweig, near Berlin, was interrupted by World War II. Following the war, after which Braunschweig had been reduced to rubble, he returned to his Heimat, his hometown, Bad Kreuznach, a town with several noted choirs.

Herr Clar directing the Wiesbadener Sinfonie Orchester. Heinz Clar.

 

Not only did Herr Clar direct symphonic orchestras and choirs but was also a concert pianist of high quality. I heard him performing several times; I particularly remember his performance of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5, and it seemed impossibly beautiful, impossibly because as a fledgling pianist, I could not ever imagine myself playing such a piece, correctly so. Even as a child, it seemed to me that he was wasting his talents to be teaching someone like me to play Three Blind Mice, or the equivalent. He was an encouraging teacher, nonetheless.

Oregon Scribbler.

 

It wasn’t until many years later that I came to a better understanding of how it was that a master pianist like Herr Clar came to be teaching the musically untrained offspring of American army officers: The time was around fifteen years after the end of World War II, and while the German economy was well underway in its post-war recovery, (deemed the Wirtschaftswunder, or economic miracle), still a low-paid American officer could afford to employ a maid and hire an over-qualified piano teacher.

Herr Clar advertisment, page 24. Heinz Clar.

 

Kurhausstrasse 17.

 

The address, Kurhausstrasse 17, brought back memories of our visits to Herr Clar’s home. He and his wife hosted our family several times in his apartment near the Kursaal, the hall where many of his public concerts were performed.

Uncovering this concert program provided me not just some heartfelt memories of my own but gave me a renewed and an even greater appreciation of my first piano teacher, both of his musical abilities and his spirit.

Translation of Herr Clar’s exposition from the concert program “The Great Nahe Valley Symphony – Ten Years of the Kreuznach Symphony Cycle” pages 5-11. Published 18 October 1959.

Bad Kreuznach symphony cycle and its history, by Heinz Clar

In life, things usually turn out differently than you think. I don’t have any intention of spending time endlessly philosophizing about how things would have been better. What is certain is that I did not intend to spend the second half of my life where I began the first, so to speak.

Even though my thoughts always wandered over to the paradisiacal landscape of my hometown of Kreuznach and its surroundings during the many years I spent abroad, I had devoted all my energy to the grand opera, and only the unfortunate end of the war could dissuade me from the path I had consistently followed until then. During ten successful years of working at the state theater there, Braunschweig had already become a second home to me. In 36 heavy nights of bombing, phosphorus bombs and aerial mines burned and crushed this picturesque medieval town, its magnificent theater and also my home. Fleeing the ruins, the constant sight of which turns every sensitive person into a melancholic, I looked for a temporary hometown in Kreuznach and began to build a new life here.

After long years of war, during which all the muses were condemned to silence, the people of Kreuznach were also starving for decent art performances, the food they had been deprived of for so long. It was then that I first had the idea of holding a concert. But to put this idea into practice, unimaginable obstacles had to be overcome. Gatherings of more than a handful of people were forbidden under threat of arrest by the occupying French troops. Halls were either bombed out or requisitioned by foreign troops. But artists willing to participate were found. And soon afterwards, the wallpaper store owner Reinhard Schmithals also became an art patron, who made his wallpaper store, which had been converted into a hall, available. An auditorium was quickly found through word of mouth. And while the curfew from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. was still in effect, the first concert was given in Bad Kreuznach.

These events could not remain secret in the long run. Demand for tickets increased. So I decided to go to the town commander and managed to organize a concert of German artists in Bad Kreuznach, which may have been the first public concert permitted in the occupied Rhineland at the time. The windows were boarded up with cardboard, coal and wood for heating were begged for by the pound, chairs and benches were thrown together in a motley manner, and the podium was made from reclaimed boards – this is how it took place in the community center on Rossstrasse. As the tickets were sold out in no time, turbulent scenes took place in the sales office and at the box office over the few tickets that had been returned. More concerts followed, and soon after I managed to bring the first opera artists to Bad Kreuznach from Wiesbaden, from the somewhat more tolerant American zone. Brilliant voices left their mark on the opera concerts that followed. Many former concert-goers will still know the names of the excellent opera singers who gave them these hours of edification. We would like to name a few: Maria Barth (alto), Lotte Kohring (soprano), Hans Bieneck (tenor), Gisela Litz, who now sings in Bayreuth and Hamburg, and Willy Franter (heroic tenor, Vienna State Opera), as well as Victor Hospach, a member of the Wiesbaden State Theater, who was the first serious bass singer at the time.

This is how the resumption of concert life in Bad Kreuznach looked after the collapse of 1945. This paved the way for all subsequent concerts and art events. When the provisional theater operation started up again, I resigned from my contract in Braunschweig because of the inadequate housing conditions in that city. Soon after, I received an appointment at the city theater in Koblenz, which I accepted with the thought that I would be able to continue my musical plans in Bad Kreuznach from there. In several guest performances with the Koblenz opera stage (“Madame Butterfly” and “Tsar and Carpenter”), my fellow Kreuznachers were given the opportunity to get to know me as an opera conductor on the spot.

Now I was back at the conductor’s desk and would certainly not have been unfaithful to my beloved job as opera conductor if the call to found a spa orchestra had not brought me back to Bad Kreuznach. I naturally had in mind that over the years a full orchestral ensemble could be built up in the spa town of Bad Kreuznach, following the model of the past. The development that followed, at most, into a salon orchestra, would not have been able to fully satisfy my ambitions in the long run. At least I had the pleasure of building something from nothing and not only as a conductor and pianist, but also acting as part of the spa administration. In the five years I worked in this position, there was always only one motto: to manage with the most economical means possible. The spa orchestra of that time was only allowed to cost a fraction of what is spent on it today. Even without modern instrumental ensembles in the park concerts, the Saturday and Sunday concerts were so well attended that you could only get a seat if you arrived in Orange Park early before the concert began. More and more seating had to be created, and the audience listened to the park concerts with the same attention as if they were in a hall. The core ensemble, which consisted of good musicians, could easily be strengthened for representative events. A symphonic recitation evening with Eugen Klopfet, who recited from Goethe’s “Faust”, left a particularly impressive impression. A symphony concert with an ensemble expanded to thirty musicians, in which concertmaster Anton Kraus played Max Bruch’s Violin Concerto in G minor and which concluded with Beethoven’s First Symphony, was also very well received. With the same line-up, the spa orchestra gave our Federal President Prof. Theodor Heuss a dignified reception when he came to Bad Kreuznach for the 1950 wine-growing congress.

The visitors to the spa concerts in Oranienpark were all in the mood for good music. This gave me an idea, the realization of which required a great deal of enterprise and an extraordinary amount of well-thought-out preparatory work. A full-blown symphony cycle was something completely new in the history of Bad Kreuznach. And why should people be able to be enthusiastic about the most sublime kind of music, pure symphonic music? The Bad Kreuznach city administration, with whom I originally wanted to carry out the cycle together, explained to me through Mayor Dr. Kohns that they would support my plan as far as possible, but that they could not dare to take on the risk involved.

On November 30, 1950, the first cycle concert with the Wiesbaden Symphony Orchestra took place in the overcrowded Kursaal. The program included Mozart’s overture to “The Marriage of Figaro,” Schubert’s “Unfinished” and Tchaikovsky’s “Fifth Symphony.” A few sentences from the published reviews are reproduced from the press: “… The first concert, a kind of festive opening to the 1950/51 symphony-packed cycle, kept its promise… The house was moved and gripped by this music. Tchaikovsky had never been performed on the Nahe in the way it was heard on Thursday in the Great Kursaal. … The concert was a milestone on the cultural path of Kreuznach and a ray of hope for its rise in this area as well.”

In the first two years, the Wiesbaden City Symphony Orchestra performed the concerts alone. Due to scheduling difficulties, the Mainz City Orchestra and the Koblenz Rheinische Philharmonie joined in from 1953 onwards. It is a particular satisfaction for me to know that, through these cycle concerts, I have succeeded in introducing many people to symphonic music who had previously had no knowledge of this music.

From 1950 to 1959, over 30,000 concertgoers attended in the cycle in 36 concerts. The performances of the soloists who were hired for most of the concerts were particular highlights. It is gratifying that among them is the son of our neighboring town of Bingen, Klaus Schilde, now in Paris, who is now one of Germany’s leading pianists. The concert audience also experienced the piano soloists General Music Director Ludwig Kaufmann (Wiesbaden State Theater), Ruperta Schaffganz (Koblenz), Irmgard Kutsch-Graubner (Wiesbaden) and the American Dr. W. Saphir. The violin soloists were Saschko Gawriloff, Justus Ringelberg (Mannheim), Klaus Aflmann (Frankfurt), August Baum (Wiesbaden) and Hans Boerner (Karlsruhe). The vocal soloists were the heroic tenors K. Liebl (now Metropolitan Opera) and Christoph Bajew, the bass Rudolf Watzke and the excellent sopranos Nelde Clavel and Liane Synek (Vienna State Opera).

At a Johann Strauss concert that was not a subscription and was, for once, dedicated to the cheerful muse, I used a 100-voice male choir made up of members of two singing societies for the two concert waltzes “Wine, Women and Song” and “On the Beautiful Blue Danube”. The performance received the following praise in the press: “For the choral waltzes, Heinz Clar had put together a sound body from the male choirs ‘Concordia’ Wallhausen and ‘Frohsinn’ Roxheim, which he directed, which made the two waltzes sound noble and beautiful with clear voices, as sharp as in a parlando. The house went wild. The storms of applause began even before the finale had died away. A sign of how the evening had ignited. Then ‘On the Beautiful Blue Danube’ was repeated.”

Since the two Kreuznach men’s choirs “Song Circle” and “Men’s Glee Club 1900” are now under my musical direction, I have also been given the opportunity to enrich the cycle concerts with larger choral works. The first result of this combination is the performance of the “Frithjof Saga” by Max Bruch for men’s choir, soprano and baritone solo with a large orchestra for the last cycle concert on March 13, 1960. It is regrettable that such an excellent ensemble as the Wiesbaden City Symphony Orchestra will no longer be heard, as it has been disbanded and partly taken over by the State Theater Orchestra.

The excellent Palatinate Orchestra Ludwigshafen has recently been added to the concerts of the Kreuznach Symphony Cycle. I would like to express my full appreciation to all participating orchestras for their artistic commitment to the benefit of musical life in the entire Naheland and the surrounding areas. Their masterful and dedicated playing helped to make the cycle what it has become.

But what would the cycle be without the numerous receptive subscribers who were and remain the backbone of the institution! With pronounced joy and with a grateful heart, I would like to emphasize their loyalty. We, the servants of art, are supported by the favor of the public, and this means as much to us as our instruments. The advancement in the general way of life, including the arts, are collectively called culture. The culture of a region, however, requires constant support and help from the authorities. This is not always the case. It is all the more gratifying to note that, in commendable agreement, both the city administration, headed by Mayor Dr. Muhs and the chairman of the cultural committee, Councilor Zisgen, and the district authority with District Administrator Graef, are paying due recognition and support to the symphony cycle.

In creating and conducting the Kreuznach Symphony Cycle, if I have succeeded in giving my homeland an institution that enables its people to free themselves more often from the worries of everyday life and to draw courage and joy from the enjoyment of symphonic music, then its purpose has been fulfilled.

H.C.

Original text

Bad Kreuznacher Sinfonie-Zyklus und seine Vorgeschichte, von Heinz Clar

Zitiert aus dem Konzertprogramm „Die Große Symphonie im Naheland – Zehn Jahre Kreuznacher Symphonie-Zyklus“, seiten 5-11.

Es kommt im Leben meistens anders, als man denkt. Eine unstaendlich lange philosophierende Betrachtung durueber anzustellen, wie es nun besser gewesen waere, liegt nicht in meinem Sinne. Fest steht, dass ich nicht vor hatte, meine zweite Lebenshaelfte dort zu verbringen, wo ich die erste sozusagen begann.

Wenngleich meine Gedanken in den vielen Jahren, die ich in der Fremde weilte, auch immmer herueberschweiften nach der paradiesisch schoenen Landschaft meines Heimatortes Kreuznach und seiner Umgebung, so hatte ich meine ganze Wirkungskraft doch derf grossen Oper verschrieben, und nur das unglueckliche Kriegsende konnte mich von meinem bis dahin konsequent verfolgten Wege abbringen. Waehrend zehn erfolgreicher Jahre meiner Taegigkeit am dortigen Staatstheater war mir Braunschweig bereits zu einer zweiten Heimat geworden. In 36 schweren Boembennachten verbrannten und zermalmtem Phosphorbomben und Luftminen diese malerische mittelalterliche Stadt, ihr praechtiges Theater und auch mein Heim. Die Ruinen fliehend, deren dauernder Anblick jeden fuehlsamen Menschen zum Melancholiker macht, suchte ich wieder eine vorlaeufige Heimatstadt Kreuznach und begann hier einén neuen Existenzaufbau.

Nach langen Jahren des Krieges, in denen alle Musen zum Schweigen verurteilt waren, hungerten auch die Menschen in Kreuznach direkt nach anstaendigen Kunstdarbietungen, der Kost, die sie solange entbehren mussten. Damas entstand bei mir der erste Gedanke zur Veranstaltung eines Konzerts. Doch zur Ausfuehrung dieses Gedankens ware ungeahnte Hindernisse zu ueberwinden. Zusammenkuenfte von mehr als einer Handvoll Menschen waren bei Androhung der Verhaftung durch did Besatungstruppen verboten. Saele waren entweder zerbombt oder von fremden Truppen beschlagnahmt. Aber die zur Mitwirkung bereiten Kuenstler wurden ausfindig gemacht. Und bald darauf fand sich auch in dem Tapetenhausinhaber Reinhard Schmithals ein Kunstmaezen, der sein als Saal umgebautes Tapetenmagazin zur Verfigung stellte. Durch Mundpropaganda war schnell ein Auditorium gefunden. Und waehrend noch das Ausgangsverbot von 22 Uhr bis 6 Uhr morgens bestand, worde in Bad Kreuznach schon das erste Konzert gegeben.

Auf die Dauerl konnten diese Veranstaltungen nicht geheim bleiben. Die Nachfrage um Einlasskarten nahm zu. Da entschloss ich mich zu einem Gang zum Stadtkommandanten und brachte es fertig, in Bad Kreuznach ein Konzert deutscher Kuenstler veranstalten zu koennen, das wohl das erste damalige oeffentliche Konzert gewesen sein mag, welches im besetzten Rheinland erlaubt wurde. Die Fenster mit Pappe vernagelt, Kohlen und Holz zur Heizung pfundweise zusammengebettelt, Stuehle und Baenke bunt zusammengewuerfelt, das Podium aus kompensierten Brettern zusammengebastelt, so fand es im Gemeindehaus an der Rossstrasse statt. Da die Karten im Handumdrehen vergriffen waren, spielten sich in der Verkaufsstelle und an der Abendkasse um wenige zurueckgekommene Karten turbulente Szenen ab. Weitere Konzerte folgten, und bald darauf gelang es mir, von Wiesbaden, aus der etwas toleranter eingestellten amerikanischen Zone, die ersten Opernkraefte nach Bad Kreuznach zu holen. Glanzvolle Stimmen drueckten den nun folgenden Opernkonzerten ihren Stempel auf. Vielen ehemaligen Konzertbesuchern warden noch die Namen der vorzueglichen Opernsaengerinnen und -saenger bekannt sein, die ihnen diese Stunden der Erbauung schenkten. Wir wollen einige nennen: Maria Barth (Alt), Lotte Kohring (Sopran), Hans Bieneck (Tenor), Gisela Litz, die heute in Bayreuth und Hamburg singt, und Willy Franter (Heldentenor, Wiener Staatsoper), ferner Victor Hospach, Mitglied des Staatstheaters Wiesbaden, der seinerzeit das erste serioese Bassfach bestritt.

So sah der Wiederbeginn des Konzertlebens in Bad Kreuznach nach dem Zusammenbruch von 1945 aus. Allen folgenden Konzerten und Kunstveranstaltungen war dadurch der Weg geebnet worden. Beim Wiederanlaufen des provisorischen Theaterbetriebes trat ich dann von meinem Braunschweiger Vertrag zurueck wegen der in jener Stadt herrschenden unzuelanglichen Wohnungsverhaeltnisse. Bald darauf erhielt ich eine Berufung an das Stadttheater in Koblenz, die ich annahm in dem Gedanken, meine musikalischen Plaene in Bad Kreuznach von dort aus weiterfuehren zu koennen. In mehreren Gastspielen mit der Koblenzer Opernbuehne, (“Madame Butterfly” und “Zar und Zimmermann“) war meinen Kreuznacher Landsleuten Gelegenheit gegeben, mich als Opernkapellmeister an Ort und Stelle kennenzulernen.

Nun stand ich wieder am Dirigentenpult und ware sicherlich anch meinem geliebten Opernkapellmeisterberuf nicht untreu geworden, wenn mich nicht der Ruf zur Gruendung einer Kurkapelle nach Bad Kreuznach zureckgefuehrt hatte. Mir schwebte dabei natuerlich vor, dass im Laufe der Jahre in der Kurstadt Bad Kreuznach wieder nach dem Muster von einst ein Klangkoerper in voller Orchesterstaerke aufgebaut werden konnte. Die erfolgte Entwicklung nur hochstens zum Salonorchester haette meine Ambitionen auf die Dauer nicht voll befriedigen konnen. Immerhin hatte ich auch wieder das Vergnuegen, aus nichts etwas aufzubauen und dabei nicht allein Kapellmeister und Pianist zu sein, sondern auch noch halb als Kurverwaltung zu fungieren. In den fuenf Jahren meines Wirkens in dieser Position gab es immer nur eine Parole, mit sparsamsten Mitteln zu wirtschaften. Die Kurkapelle jener Zeit durfte ja nur ein Bruchteil von dem kosten, was heute dafuer aufgewendet wird. Auch ohne moderne Instrumentalbesetzung in den Parkkonzerten waren die Samstag- und Sonntagkonzerte so stark besucht, dass man nur einen Platz bekommen konnte, wenn man fruehzeitig vor Konzertbeginn im Oraninepark erschien. Immer mehr Sitzgelegenheit musste geschaffen werden, und das Publikum lauschte den Parkkonzerten mit einer Aufmerksamkeit wie in einem Saal. Zu repraesentativen Veranstaltungen lies sich das Stammensemble, das aus guten Musikern bestand, leicht verstaerken. Einen besonderen Eindruck hinterlies ein sinfonisch-rezitatorischer Abend mit Eugen Klopfet, der aus Goethes “Faust“ rezitierte. Auch ein Sinfoniekonzert mit einer Verstaerkung des Ensembles auf dreissig Musiker, bei dem Konzertmeister Anton Kraus das Violinkonzert in g—Moll von Max Bruch spielte, und das mit der 1. Sinfonie von Beethoven schloss, fand sehr viel Anklang. In gleicher Besetzung gestaltete die Kurkapelle unserem Bundespraesidenten Prof. Theodor Heuss einen wuerdigen Empfang, als er anlaesslich des Weinbaukongresses 1950 nach Bad Kreuznach gekommen war.

Die Besucher der Kurkonzerte im Oranienpark waren durchweg auf gute Musik eingestellt. Dadurch reifte bei mir eine Idee, deren Verwirklichung allerdings viel Unternehmungsgeist und ein ausserordentliches Mass durchdachter Vorarbeit verlangte. Denn ein ausgesprochener Sinfonie-Zyklus war in der Geschichte Bad Kreuznachs etwas vollkommen Neues. Und warum sollte man die Menschen mit auch fuer die erhabenste Art der Musik, die reine Sinfoniemusk, begeistern koennen. die Stadverwaltung Bad Kreuznach, mit der ich urspruenglich gemeinsam den Zyklus durchfuehren wollte, erklaerte mir durch Buergermeister Dr. Kohns, meinen Plan nach Moeglichkeit zu unterstuetzen, die Uebernahme des damit verbundenen Risikos jedoch nicht wagen zu koennen.

Am 30. November 1950 stieg im ueberfuellten Kursaal das erste Zykluskonzert mit den Wiesbadener Sinfonikern. Dass Prgramm enthielt Mozarts Ouvertuere zu “Figaros Hochzeit”, Schuberts “Unvollendete” und Tschaikowskys “Fuenfte Sinfonie”. Aus der Presse seien einige Saetze der erschienenen Kritiken wiedergegeben: ” … Das erste Konzert, gewissenmassen als festlichen Auftakt fuer den Sinfoniegepackt Zyklus 1950/51, hat gehalten, was es versprach … Das Huas war aufgeuehlt und gepackt von dieser Musik. So, wie sie am Donnerstag im Grossen Kursaal zum Erklingen kam, wurde Tschaikowsky an der Nahe bis jetzt noch nicht musiziert. … Das Konzert war ein Markstein auf den kulturellen Pfaden Kreuznachs und Lichtblick fuer seinen Aufstieg auch auf diesem Gebiet.”

In den beiden ersten Jahren bestritt das Sinfonieorchester der Stadt Wiesbaden die Konzerte allein. Aus Terminschwierigkeiten kamen von 1953 an noch das Staedtische Orchester Mainz und die Rheinische Philharmonie Koblenz hinzu. Eine besondere Genugtung ist es fuer mich, zu wissen, dass es mir gelungen ist, durch diese Zykluskonzerte viele zor Sinfoniemusik gefuehrt zu haben, denen diese Musik frueher nichts sagte.

Von 1950 bis 1959 nahmen in 36 Konzerten ueber 30,000 Konzertbesucher am Zyklus teil. Besondere Hoehepunkte bilden die Leistungen der zu den meisten Konzerten hinzuverpflichteten Solisten. Erfreulich ist, das unter ihnen auch der Sohn unserer Nachbarstadt Bingen ist, Klaus Schilde, jetzt in Paris, der heute in die Reihe der ersten Pianisten Deutschlands gehoert. Weiter erlebte das Konzertpublikum als Klaviersolisten Generalmusikdirektor Ludwig Kaufmann (Staatstheater Wiesbaden), Ruperta Schaffganz (Koblenz), Irmgard Kutsch-Graubner (Wiesbaden) und den Amerikaner Dr. W. Saphir. Als Violinsolisten erschienen Saschko Gawriloff, Justus Ringelberg (Mannheim), Klaus Aflmann (Frankfurt), August Baum (Wiesbaden), Hans Boerner (Karlsruhe). Als Gesangssolisten waren verpflichtet die Heldentenoere K. Liebl (heute Metropolitan-Oper) und Christoph Bajew, der Bassist Rudolf Watzke und die ausgezeichneten Sopranistinnen Nelde Clavel und Liane Synek (Staatsoper Wien).

Bei einem ausser Abonnement gegebenen Johann-Strauss-Konzert, das ausnahmsweise einmal der heiteren Muse gewidmet war, setzte idch einen aus Mitgliedern zweier Gesangvereine gebildeten 100 Stimmen starken Maennerchor in den beiden Konzertwalzern “Wein, Weib und Gesung” und “An der schoenen blauen Donau” ein. In der Presse fand die Wiedergabe folgende Wuerdigung: “Fuer die Chorwalzer hatte Heinz Clar aus den von ihm geleiteten Maennerchoeren ‘Concordia’ Wallhausen und ‘Frohsinn’ Roxheim einen Klangkoerper zusammengestellt, der mit klaren Stimmen, gestochen wie im Parlando, die beiden Walzer edel und schoen zum Erklingen brachte. Das Haus raste. Die Beifallsstuerme setzten schon ein, ehe das Finale verklungen war. Ein Zeichen, wie der Abend gezuendet hatte. Dann wurde ‘An der schoenen blauen Donau’ wiederholt.”

Seitdem nun die beiden Kreuznacher Mannerchoere “Liederkranz“ und “Mannergesangverein 1900” unter meiner musikalischen Leitung stehen, ist mir auch die Moeglichkeit gegeben. die Zykluskonzerte durch groessere Chorwerke zu bereichern. Als erstes Resultat dieser Kombination ist fuer das letzte Zyklus-Konzert am 13. Maerz 1960 die Auffuehrung der “Frithjof-Sage” von Max Bruch fuer Mannerchor, Sopran— und Baritonsolo mit grossem Orchester vorgesehen. Bedauerlich ist, dass ein so vorzueglicher Klangkoerper wie das Sinfonieorchester der Stadt Wiesbaden nicht mehr zu hoeren sein wird. da es aufgeloest und zum Teil in das Staatstheaterorchester uebernommen wurde.

Neu hinzugekommen zu den Konzerten des Kreuznacher Sinfonie-Zyklus ist das vorzuegliche Pfalzorchester Ludwigshafen. Allen mitwirkenden Orchestern moechte ich fuer ihren‘ kuenstlerischen Einsatz zum Wohle des Musiklebens im ganzen Naheland und den angrenzenden Gebieten meine volle Anerkennung zum Ausdruck bringen. Ihr meisterliches und hingebungsvolles Spiel half mit, den Zyklus zu dem zu machen, was er geworden ist.

Was waere der Zyklus aber ohne die zahlreichen aufgeschlossenen Abonnenten, die das Rueckgrat der Institution waren und bleiben! Mit extra betonter Freude und mit dankbarem Herzen moechte ich ihre Treue in den Vordergrund stellen. Wir, die Diener der Kunst, werden getragen von der Gunst der Publikums, und sie bedeutet uns ebensoviel wie das Instrument. Alle Kuenste und der Fortschritt in den Dingen, die zur allgemeinen Lebenshaltung gehoeren, nennt man zusammengefasst Kultur. Die Kultur eines Gehietes bedarf aber steter Foerderung und Hilfe durch die Behoerden. Nicht immer ist dies der Fall. Umso freudiger kann festgestellt werden, dass in lobenswerter Ubereinstimmung sowohl die Stadtverwaltung, an ihrer Spitze Buergermeister Dr. Muhs und der Vorsitzende des Kulturausschusses, Beigeordneter Zisgen, als auch die Kreisbehoerde mit Landrat Graef dem Sinfonie-Zyklus gebuehrende Anerkennung und Unterstuetzung zollen.

Wenn es mir gelungen ist, mit dem Aufbau und der Durchfuerhrung des Kreuznacher Sinfonie—Zyklus meiner Heimat eine Einrichtung gegeben zu haben, die es ihren Menschen moeglich macht, sich oefter von den Sorgen des Alltags zu befreien und aus dem Genuss der sinfonisdaen Musik Lebensmut und Lebensfreude zu schoepfen, dann ist sein Zweck damit erfuellt.

H.C.

Famly.

 

I have gathered memories of Tony told by family and friends, stories to remember him by. You will find them below, following the obituary. My own stories can be found in the related articles section at right.

Obituary

Family.

 

Family.

 

Attrib: Ruth Moreau, Family.

 

Family.

 

Tony died in his sleep on December 26, 2023. He is survived by his wife, Celia, and his children Tom, Barbara, Ruth, Craig and Peter, along with 11 grandchildren and 12 great-grandchildren. He was predeceased by his son Stephen in 2018.

Shared memories of Dad

Barbara McDougall, daughter

Bonnie Hoskinson-Wiebe.

 

Dad often took us out of school to ski on Wednesdays. One such Wednesday when I was 12, I fell and broke my leg early in the day. Dad decided I wasn’t hurt too bad even though I declared “I broke my leg!”, and he made me wait in the ski patrol room until they’d skied a full day. (Maybe it wasn’t a full day, but it sure seemed like it to my 12 year old self.) I got treatment on the way home. I’m sure Dad felt bad that I’d fractured my tibia and fibula and required a full cast above the knee.

Straube ceremony Wien. Straubes.

 

Dad shared his guidance and wisdom, advising me that I was not allowed to date at age 15, because he was a teenage boy once and he knew what they thought! I loved talking to my Mom about daily life, but when I needed counsel, I always called Dad. He would listen and offer love and encouragement along with his wisdom.

Dad was quick to help whenever any of us needed help as adults. He helped build decks and fences. He dug trenches to repair plumbing. He taught me how to hang wallpaper.

And he was so energetic! One July 4th, Duane and I were planning our first party on the lake. We were expecting people to arrive sometime in the afternoon. The doorbell rang around 10:30 in the morning. There was dad! He’d ridden his bike from north Portland and was ready for boating! So we went boating. He tubed behind the boat with his grandkids. Did I mention he was a wonderful grandfather, so much fun.

Dad was a man of faith and integrity. He taught me to love the Lord and to live my life with integrity.

Family.

 

Joan Wiebe, sister-in-law

Tony & Celia, Ron & Joan. Family.

 

Three times when Ron brought a group of Bolivian young men and women from our youth ministry, called THE ANDINOS, who were gifted athletically as well as musically, to present the ministry in Bolivia in churches, schools, universities and other groups, Tony and Celia provided a large van to transport them and their musical instruments all over the US and Canada for their meetings. And when they were not traveling the Wiebe’s opened their home to the Andinos and the youth could be seen all over their large home, many sprawled out chatting, others watching TV, resting or eating a snack. They really loved Tony and Celia and felt right at home with them.

During our early years in Bolivia Ron was elected as a member of the Field Council and a few years later he was elected Assisted Director and eventually General Director of The Andes Evangelical Mission. He was asked to leave the youth ministry and dedicate his time to the leadership and administration of the Mission. Each year we held a Mission Conference and one year Dr. and Mrs. John G. Mitchell, Pastor of Central Bible Church in Portland, Oregon was our speaker. He was the Pastor of one of our main supporting churches and also the church where Ron served as Youth Minister before we left for Bolivia. Tony was Dr. Mitchell’s doctor and he and Celia accompanied them. We were so honored to have both couples with us. Unfortunately, there was an outbreak of the flu during the conference but we were so blest to have Tony present. He graciously cared for the sick and gave advice to prevent further spread of the disease. One day Tony was seen in the kitchen throwing dish after dish on the floor shattering them to pieces. People were shocked but Tony proceeded to announce, “dishes with cracks are the biggest germ spreaders around!’ Thankfully few became ill after that and Dr. Mitchell’s messages of the Word blessed everyone greatly.

Every 3 to 4 years we came to the States on furlough or home assignment. During that year we visited Bible colleges, supporting churches, individual supporters, friends and family in California, Illinois and Oregon sharing what God was doing in Bolivia. When we weren’t traveling, Tony and Celia often planned special activities for us and our children. Our children still remember when Uncle Tony took them out of school for the day and took them up to Mt. Hood where he taught them to ski. It was one of the most memorable times for them of all of our furloughs. A memorable time for me was the year they took Ron and me on an Alaskan Cruz, all expenses paid! We had our very own suite and it was fabulous! That is until our Norwegian Line hit a winter storm out at sea. Even Tony, who assured us he never got seasick couldn’t get out of bed! I, who had a deathly fear of ocean travel since hearing about the Titanic as a child, remember crawling to the intercom of our suite as the ship rolled around and around and asking our steward to bring us some seasick pills. Ron was worse off than I was! An hour later the Ship’s Caption came on the loud speaker and announced that we would be changing course since so many were ill due to bad weather and that we would be moving inland and traveling up the coast. Whithin an hour all was calm and everyone was able to enjoy the formal dinner that night. And………We have a lovely Photo to prove it. A beautiful evening to be sure! A very special gift from Tony and Celia.

In May of 2015 a cist on Rons kidney burst and we took him to emergency in excruciating pain and he was admitted to the hospital. He had to be taken off his blood thinners and it was clear that he could not survive without them. All our children and some of our grandchildren arrived and for two weeks our children cared for him day and night. During those weeks their cell phones rang continually with calls from friends and family here in the States as well as other countries, especially Bolivia. There were so many calls that some had to be turned away as Ron grew weaker. We asked that no visitors be allowed but then one day a special visitor arrived – Tony, all the way from Oregon! Tony talked non stop and Ron listened, elated. He stayed with us that night and visited Ron the next day before his flight. Ron told me later how thankful he was for Tony’s visit and how much it meant to him. Now they are together with the One in whom they both had put their trust and served faithfully, their wonderful Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

Gary Wiebe, nephew

My name is Gary and I’m one of uncle Tony’s nephews. My dad, Ron, was his younger brother. One of my happier memories is of going snow skiing with uncle Tony and his kids. It was a school day and I remember uncle Tony showing up at our house early in the morning and announced that we were all going skiing. My dad protested saying that it was a school day, but uncle Tony just said that he was the older brother and that it was settled. Uncle Tony was always so generous and he paid for our ski passes and also had several pairs of skis for us to use. He taught me to ski and then I skied with my cousin Craig who was 2 years older than I. Craig was a very good skier and would find jumps to catch some air. On one of the jumps, Craig came down and his ski pole ripped part of his ear loose. We found uncle Tony, who looked at it and said it was not bad at all. We hopped in the car and drove to a doctor’s office that uncle Tony knew and Craig was stitched up in record time and we returned to ski the rest of that day. Uncle Tony loved to have fun and so was always fun to be around.

Brian Ferriso

Family.

 

Brian Ferriso, Director, Portland Art Museum

David Chamberlain

Dr. Wiebe was my primary care physician for nearly 20 years. He never failed to ask about my family and on every visit encouraged me to stop smoking which I finally did before he retired. At some point in our conversations, we learned that his son-in-law, Duane, and I had worked at the same accounting firm early in our carreers. The last time I saw him was shortly after his retirement in the Italian restaurant at the corner of N Killingsworth and N Greeley. Dr. Wiebe will remain in my heart as one of the most compassionate people I have had the privilege to have known.

David Wagner

I first met Tony as an attending physician at Emmanuel Hospital where I was a resident in Internal Medicine, after a year at Emmanuel I felt it was time to go to work and joined Tony at the Greely Clinic……a slow day would be under 50 patients ! We shared the same office and had much time to talk medicine and life.

God Bless you on your journey to Heaven…….David

Jean Lynch

Dr. Wiebe was medical director at Porthaven when I was there for 20 years. he was great to work with. He listened to the nurses, which wasn’t always the case! He really cared for his patients and their families. A pleasure to work for and with.

Pat Lawson

Dr. Wiebe was the Dr. that Delivered my Very High Risk R H Neg. Baby. The Night I went into Labor, (after another difficult week), he was supposed to be off duty, and when I came in, he stayed, much to my relief, when she was Born, I knew right away it was a Girl, because he said, She is Pink, very delightedly. I was relieved she was alive, & when later that morning they brought in a specialist to do a Blood Exchange, I was reassured she would be OK. He said he wouldn’t be doing anymore of these High Risk Babies, too stressful, But I always felt blessed that he was the one who did deliver her. Such a Caring Dr., and this Child is such a Blessing in my Life. Thank You, Dr. Wiebe, for all the years of great care.

Deborah Chapman

I met Tony in 1982 at Craig and Catherine’s wedding and proceeded to see him at every Wiebe gathering to which I was invited. What a father! What a grandfather! What a husband! His dedication to his family – and, in particular, to Celia – always impressed me. AND, I was always touched at how he seemed to also have time to catch up with me. He will be greatly missed. XOXO

Bob Maricle

I remember him quite well from Emanuel days. Great to see photos from that era. He was full of life, happiness, goodness, generosity, interest, kindness, curiosity and good humor. Really a remarkable human being. I can’t imagine the loss his children must feel when not finding him in the yard or the next room.

Andrew Burnett

Tony was my GP from 1962 till 2000 when he retired.He was a friend of my parents when he attended Multnomah Bible School.My middle name is Alton, after Tony. In the summer of 1963 Tony took our family out on their boat on the Willamette River. That was the day, at age 9, that I learned how to water ski. I have been an avid water sports enthusiast ever since. My family and the hundreds of people who have been on our boats over the years have Tony to thank for that. RIP dear friend.

Peter Wiebe.

 

Our Dad Tony was a Macher, a doer, Macher more in the typical German than the Yiddish use of the word. Dad’s enormous energy was not exhausted by long weeks as a physician, so he put it to use around the house. We painted our own home, inside and out, built our own fences, made bookcases, and so on. Over the years, Dad trained his children in these arts as they grew old enough to participate.

. Family.

 

At Dad and Mom’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration we sang songs about them. Craig and I wrote one specifically for Dad, entitled A Mighty Carpenter, which we sang to the tune of Luther’s great hymn, A Mighty Fortress.

A Mighty Carpenter

In the summer of 1979 Dad’s medical clinic decided to add some additional examining rooms, and planned to build a 1,000 sf addition onto their existing building. Dad hired his old friend Mel Jensen to be the general contractor. Both my brother Craig and I worked for Mel that summer, and we both remember Dad regularly coming in to check on progress while in-between seeing patients, but also to participate in the construction. On a day when we were installing subflooring, Craig and I share a vivid memory of Dad coming in wearing his white coat, his stethoscope clipped around his neck, unceremoniously grabbing a hammer and a fistful of nails, dropping to his knees on the hard pressboard underlayment, gripping the hammer with two hands, and furiously nailing it in, not pausing until his nurse came in to reel him back into medical care.

Margaret Straube.

 

One of my favorite memories of Dad was when he helped me build a raised deck in the back of Cindy’s and my first home. One evening after work, the deck mostly completed, I was trying to add the two staircases and could not bring myself to make the first cuts into the 2×12 stringers, the structural support for the steps and risers. If I cut the wrong size / angle I could ruin an entire expensive board. I had spent an hour walking in circles, not willing to make the first cut until I was sure. The doorbell rang, and there was Dad in his doctor clothes, dropping by to help. He grabbed the roofing square, made some quick measurements, reassured me with explanations, and while I cringed, he unhesitatingly cut out the first step 2 slots. A few checks made it clear that the cuts were perfect, and we used the pattern to cut out the remainder of the 7 steps in the stringers and assembled the staircase within a couple of hours. Wow!

Family.

 

And there, in one evening’s work, was Dad, the carpenter. His generosity brought him over unannounced to help. His drive cut through the procrastination and his knowledge and confidence allowed us to build the first staircase correctly. For the second staircase, his rush produced an error, but using his deep knowledge of carpentry, he quickly produced a solution to the error, and with me resuming the role of a mild governor, we finished the job.

Dad, ever the Macher, continued to do until the string ran out. Dad helped Cindy and I remodel our current home, his last set of projects, which we started when Dad was 85. He could still lift boards, and his carpentry knowledge was as always invaluable. Together, we re-floored the first story with hardwood, extended and resurfaced decks front and back, built cabinets, and so on. He helped me on and off until the last few years of his life, at that point limited to sitting in a chair, watching me, sometimes offering advice, and not happy with the fact that he couldn’t help more!

Oregon Scribbler.

 

Growing up, we often sang together as a family while on long trips in the car, my parents taking the lead, giving their children the gift of singing freely.  My mother loved music, particularly classical music, and she was determined that all of her children would get a sound musical education.  Each of her six children were required to take at least two years of piano lessons, and after that, if they showed continued interest, additional lessons.  I found music at some level beguiling, and liked to sing and to play guitar as well as to play the piano, but found piano lessons to be only episodically motivating.

Thomas Wiebe, left, performing with his More! More! band. Attrib: Thomas Wiebe, .

 

Heinz Clar.

 

My first piano teacher, Herr Heinz Clar, was the local Kapellmeister in Bad Kreuznach, Germany, where we lived for a few years while my father served in the U.S. Army. Herr Clar was a pianist and orchestral conductor of considerable skill, far beyond what was needed to teach the musically untrained offspring of U.S. Army officers. We were very fortunate to have such a teacher, a gracious and generous man. Recently I learned more about Herr Clar and have detailed the story in another article here.

Attrib: Mennonite Church USA, PD.

 

Music was the saving grace of attending church every Sunday of my childhood.  When came the time to gather in the sanctuary for the Sunday sermon, I would desperately peruse the program notes for the musical offerings of the service.  On the best days there would be four of five hymns that the congregation would sing, and perhaps a choir piece and a solo or duet in addition; on the most barren of days, maybe only two hymns.  The highlight of the service was the congregational singing, in which I participated enthusiastically, singing out and, by perhaps age eight or nine, began to learn to sing harmony lines.  The intricacy and beauty of the harmonies never ceased to capture my musical imagination and continue to be a joy to me.

Many times as a family we went around to friends houses around Christmas time, stood outside and sang Christmas carols, sometimes with guitar accompaniment that I provided.  On a couple of memorable occasions, our accompaniment was provided by Craig, incongruously but effectively, on a Sousaphone!  Picture a five foot tall boy, bundled up against the cold, enveloped by a white marching band Sousaphone . . .

Oregon Scribbler.

 

In seventh grade, my elementary school music teacher offered me a chance to audition for an all-city middle school children’s choir that was being formed to perform in a national music teacher’s convention, along side an all-city high school choir, band, orchestra, etc.  I was accepted, and we rehearsed for months of Saturdays for the performance, twelve songs in all, memorized.  I was placed in the alto section, and we sang almost no melody, rather mostly harmony parts.  To this day, I can sing some of the lines of these songs, without any knowledge of what the melody is for some of the songs.  It was a wonderful musical experience.

As a teen I became interested in folk songs and learned to play simple parts and chords on a guitar.  It seemed most fun when I could play with other people; in particular I was lucky enough to spend some musical time with one of my high school friends, Chuck Johnson.  Chuck was a talented drummer and guitar player and already was playing in local bands by the age of fifteen. Occasionally we got together and played folk songs until we ran out of songs we knew.  He was much more skilled than I on guitar, so I played a simple background rhythm guitar following his lead.  He also sang the melodies, and I gratefully sang the harmonies, making them up as we went, my head clear of all thoughts but the music.  A few years ago, my brother Steve attended a high school reunion, and he ran across Chuck Johnson there. It turns out that Chuck stayed with music, and became a professional musician, performing in local musical groups, and as a solo act, singing and playing his guitar in local clubs.  He is an excellent performer, as evidenced by this video gleaned from the internet.

After high school, I joined the Army, and while it was impossible to carry a piano with me, my guitar accompanied me overseas to my billet in Germany.  My only opportunity to the play the piano was to avail myself of one of the musical rehearsal rooms to be found at the local USO gathering place, rooms the size of a large closet, lined with acoustical tiles, and in each an upright piano.  This suited me, as I was shy of playing in front of an audience.  A rare opportunity presented itself to play an old manual pump organ, when my friend Tim and I traveled south of Stuttgart to visit a family we knew, the Finkbeiners, who had the pump organ in their living room, but no one to play it.  Overcoming my musical shyness, curious about how such an instrument was played, I banged out a few of the German folk songs I knew, with the bellows operated by the feet and some controls with the knees!  It took a bit of getting used to (violently stomping on the bellows, pressing outward with the knee, looking all the while like a crazed barnyard animal), but provided a great deal of musical adventure.

Verona arena. Attrib: Vivaverdi, CC BY-SA 3.0.

 

When I traveled throughout Europe, I sometimes took my guitar, and would sing on the train, usually when the shared compartment I was sitting in was empty.  In traveling once to northern Italy with a fellow soldier, we spent part of a day in Verona, and went to visit the Roman arena there, one of the better preserved such structures in Italy.  Alas, it was closed for an opera rehearsal, but being persistent, we walked passed the barriers into the arena and found our way up to the higher reaches of the seating.  One end of the oval was serving as the stage, and backdrops had been erected in the seating on that end, so we took positions behind the backdrops and watched and listened to the rehearsal.  It was quite interesting, and the episodic music was beautiful, but after  fifteen minutes or so we noticed someone moving rapidly toward us, too quickly for us to retreat.  The young man politely asked us in creditable English what we were doing there, and I replied that we were just confused tourists, to which he graciously responded that as long as we did not move about, we were welcome to remain, so we did, and were treated with a memorable musical moment.

Attrib: Eli Christman, CC-BY-2.0.

 

Perhaps the most oddly pleasurable musical event in my time in Germany was meeting a young, and rather bad banjo player on the streets of Pirmasens, Germany, where I was stationed.  Jim was haltingly and much too slowly playing a familiar banjo tune.  Establishing that he was an American, I asked him about his story, and he said he had grown up in Germany as a dependent of a US Army sergeant, and was now wandering through Germany revisiting some of the places he had lived, and at the same time, starting to learn the banjo. It seemed odd to me that he would choose to learn the banjo on a public street corner in a foreign land.  I came across Jim several times in the next month, and each time he had dramatically improved his banjo skills.  His method was to take an established banjo classic, a difficult piece, and play through it very slowly until he had learned it, then gradually speed it up to approach the typical high speed of such pieces.  And it worked for him!  Within two weeks he had learned one song, and played it at nearly a professional level!  I invited him back to the barracks one weekend, and he and I and a few others played and sang folk music together for a memorable evening.  Jim told us many stories – the one story I have retained is Jim’s stint as a door-to-door Jew’s harp salesman in the Appalachian mountains. He would knock on a door, play a song or two on his harp, and then try to make a sale. He demonstrated his skill on the harp to us, which was considerable. Jim explained that much of Appalachian culture is steeped in music, and that his unlikely selling of unlikely musical instruments was not so much a living as a constant opportunity to make music with the locals, who often as not would invite him in, gather some friends and family, and make music together, providing food, drink and shelter in the bargain.

After I left the Army, I stayed in Europe for another month, and my brother Craig joined me on an extended skiing trip in the Alps, which was accompanied by my guitar. We sang away some of the hours waiting for or on the train, sometimes with other passengers. We skied together once more in Europe several years later. Our trip started with a flight to London, and then a train to Aigurande, a village in central France, where we were to meet up with our sister Ruth’s in-laws, the Moreaus, who were hosting us over New Year’s prior to our ski trip. This was before the Chunnel, so our train stopped on the English coast, and we boarded the night ferry, disembarked in France, and boarded another train to finish the journey. We overshot our last connection north of Aigurande, both of us unable to stay awake after 48 hours of sleepless travel. When we awoke and realized our error, we disembarked at the next available station, St. Amond Montrond, phoned our hosts, who laughed and said they would drive the hour or so to pick us up. While we waited in the train station, we sang together in 2-part harmony, taking turns with the guitar accompaniment, as Craig had since picked up the guitar. The station master politely ignored us. We shared our music with the Moreaus, who took great care of us.

Oregon Scribbler.

 

When I met my future wife, Cindy, one of the things we found immediately in common was singing:  She was a singer and had a trained voice!  We sang a number of times together and for each other while we were dating, once in the further reaches of Portland’s Gabriel Park.  She thought about singing at our wedding, but was sure she would cry in the midst and decided not to. Throughout our marriage she has sung many solos, at weddings and church services, and we occasionally sang duets together at family gatherings and other weddings. I was never comfortable singing in front of others by myself, and the duet scenario was borderline:  My legs often shook beneath the shroud of my pants legs during these performances, but Cindy always sang the lead, and left me with the less exposed harmony lines, which I loved to do, anyway.

PD.

 

We sang for many years in several church choirs (they never asked me about my beliefs, and I didn’t volunteer them). It is a great pleasure to sing in a choir, particularly the rehearsals, which I looked forward to as a serious respite from the pressures of work before I retired:  To sing, to learn music is to wash every other thought from your mind and focus solely on the intricacies and beauty of the music around you and within you.  One year I joined the bell choir, which was the one and only time I played in an instrumental group, and this experience was similarly rewarding. In the past several years, we have rekindled our interest in choral participation and are singing in a community choir. Singing does not get old.

Oregon Scribbler.

 

Bryan Reed.

 

Listening to music has always been a pleasure, but playing music, even and always with considerably less skill than by those accomplished recording and performing professionals, brings the greatest joy. Today I primarily play my guitar. Less so my electronic piano, and then almost always with headphones attached, to spare my wife the same old pieces, played the same old way, with the same old mistakes, allowing me the privilege and pleasure of trying out new variations, albeit with less precision than enthusiasm, and losing myself once again in the beauty and mystery of making music.

Rafting Trip Planner Google Sheet: Introductory Video. Click to view video.

 

The Rafting Trip Planner is a free Google Sheet designed to manage whitewater rafting trip expenses, deposits, reimbursements, logistics, and meals. It was created by rafting enthusiasts and has been used successfully for many multi-day whitewater rafting trips, from 3-day weekends with 8 rafters to 21-day Grand Canyon trips with 24 rafters. The primary features:

• Manage group expenses, including the use of deposits and final reimbursements
• Quickly generate an itinerary which also supports meal management
• Plan and manage river meals and food groups
• Manage rafters, their contact info, and their dietary restrictions
• Manage shared equipment, boats, and transportation to and from the river
• Provide a simple bulletin board for group communication and trip information
• Share music to be performed and sung on the trip

Sample Rafting Trip Planner. Try it out or follow along with the video. Click here make your own copy.

Rafting Trip Planner Template. Use the Planner to manage your own raft trip. Click here make your own copy.

Please use the comments section to ask questions, report problems, and so on.

PD-USGOV.

 

Amanda Gorman read her poem The Hill We Climb at the inauguration of President Biden, providing an aspirational glimpse of our way forward, together.

The Hill We Climb

by Amanda Gorman

"Instead of grandiose worship music, we sing hymns that emphasize gratitude: 'All I have heeded Thy hand hath provided.' We sing in four-part harmony, with the men breaking into baritone or bass, and the women into alto and soprano. It is an unexpected intimacy to listen to one another and to shape our voices so they fit together. These hymns take more work than the worship music. A curious side effect of all the effort is that the hymns take on a three-dimensional auditory shape, and the sum of our voices hangs in the air, suspended inside the sanctuary."

(page 204)

Book review, Title American Harvest, Author Marie Mutsuki Mockett, Rating 5.0,

American Harvest Marie Mutsuki Mockett Book review

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In sixth grade music class, we spent some time on songs of Oregon, our home state. One was The Oregon Trail, which includes the line 'Cross the Great Divide, side by side we'll ride,' which might also articulate the theme of this wonderful book, with its emphasis on bridging differences in culture and place, particularly that of city and country.

The author, a city dweller, and her family own from afar a medium-sized wheat farm in Nebraska, whose grain is harvested every year by Eric Wohlgemuth and his team. Eric’s crew of Anabaptist farmers employ their combines to harvest the grain for small and medium-sized farms, farms who cannot afford the complex equipment needed for harvest. Grain ripens later at higher latitudes, so the crew starts in Texas and follows the harvests up to Idaho or Canada.

Eric invites her to accompany them on their journey. She participates in the field work, befriending some of the crew, together attending church and exploring the local communities that host them. The author provides a detailed and adventurous account of the close-knit life of the crew and draws a vivid and rich description of many aspects of farming today in America and of some of the those who live the life.

She also makes a heart-felt attempt to cross the divide between country and city, between various religious beliefs, and between various ethnicities. Mockett, who is half-Japanese and half white, finds her own ethnicity a useful lens through which to view each community she encounters, from German farmers to Native Americans, or the rare Asian in the rural farming communities they visit.

The author’s open and curious approach is welcomed by many but not all she encounters, both among the crew and within the communities they pass through. The tone throughout is sympathetic, often contemplative, with bursts of real passion. She paints sensitive portraits of the land. This book far exceeded my expectations.

Notes

1. The requisite verse from the song The Oregon Trail is:

"Hurry up, old pioneer, keep movin',
Your faithful little band must never fail,
Cross the Great Divide, side by side we'll ride,
Down the Oregon Trail."

"I proceeded to forget Maurice, but not this DNA photograph. A potential key to the secret of life was impossible to push out of my mind. The fact that I was unable to interpret it did not bother me. It was certainly better to imagine myself becoming famous than maturing into a stifled academic who had never risked a thought."

(page 24)

Book review, Title The Double Helix: Norton Critical Edition, Author James D. Watson, Gunther Stent, Rating 5.0,

The Double Helix: Norton Critical Edition James D. Watson, Gunther Stent Book review

.

In The Double Helix, James Watson provides a superb personal account of his and Francis Crick's discovery of the structure of DNA, which discovery set off the molecular biology wave that engulfed the overall study of life. The story itself is highly relevant in the history of biology, and thereby inherently interesting, but Watson managed, 15 years hence, to candidly recapture his twenty-something point of view, and that made the all the difference. It is the rarest of books: a scientific page-turner, with suspense, strong personalities and a child-like narrator.

The opening line of the book, "I have never seen Francis Crick in a modest mood," is as famous in scientific circles as is the opening line "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way" from Anna Karenina in literature. Watson’s portraits of the leading characters are juicy: sharp, gossipy and sometimes unfair. But the reader quickly finds that Watson treats himself with the same sharp candor, and it becomes clear that you are seeing a relatively unfiltered view of colleagues and situations.

The dramatis personae? All capable scientists, all with considerable egos. Watson of course, young post-doc, fiercely ambitious, sharp-eyed, awkward; Crick, older post-doc, cosmopolitan, brilliant, brash, pushy with his ideas; Rosalind Franklin, X-ray crystallographer and newcomer to the investigation of DNA’s structure, cool, cerebral, precise, edgy to all but her friends; Wilkins, X-ray crystallographer and one of the world’s leading investigators of the structure of DNA, diffident, cautious, phlegmatic; Lawrence Bragg, X-ray crystallographer, director of Watson’s Cavendish lab, someone who had already seen his best days, not always clued in; Linus Pauling, world’s preeminent physical chemist at the peak of his powers, who had already beaten Bragg’s lab to the discovery of the alpha helix, and on the hunt for the structure of DNA.

Bragg, a Nobelist, in his reaction to the book, was able to see past Watson’s sometimes insulting portrait of him, and provided a foreword to the book, in which he gave the reader a useful perspective: Watson "writes with a Pepys-like frankness. Those who figure in the book must read it in a very forgiving spirit." (page 3) Watson explicitly prioritized his impressions rather than favor a perfectly accurate telling, wanting to convey the spirit of scientific exploration. In this he succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations.

 

What Mad Pursuit, by Francis Crick

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Crick and Maurice Wilkins, who shared the Nobel with Watson for the DNA discovery, were unable to be so magnanimous: both were angered by the book and actively sought to suppress its publication, nearly succeeding. Twenty five years on, Wilkins was not sanguine regarding the book: "I'm Jim. I'm smart. Most of the time Francis is smart too. The rest are bloody clots. Jim plays himself the holy fool." (Judson, Eighth Day of Creation, p 182)  Ten years after that, Crick commented on The Double Helix in his own memoir, What Mad Pursuit, having softened somewhat: "I now appreciate how skillful Jim was, not only in making the book read like a detective story but also by managing to include a surprisingly large amount of the science." (page 81)

The Science

Why was Watson so mad keen to find the structure of DNA? It was becoming clear by around 1950 that DNA was a required part of the mechanism of biological inheritance. There was tantalizing evidence that the physical gene was located in the DNA present in all living organisms. This was relatively new, as the search for the physical gene had focused previously on protein. Watson, with a fresh doctorate and seeking a research career, quickly focused on the physical gene. He found in Francis Crick someone who shared his ideas, and they formed an ad hoc, semi-authorized research program to determine the structure of DNA, hoping that by solving the structure of DNA they would learn more about the mechanism of genetic inheritance. Their problem was that they each were assigned other research they were to pursue under the terms of their grants.

Both were actively contributing to the general field of macromolecular biomolecules. In the course of their two year part-time collaboration, Crick, an X-ray crystallographer, had, for example, independently determined a theoretical model for a helical biomolecule, and Watson had done viable research on the helical structure of the tobacco mosaic virus capsule. Their approach for the search for the DNA structure centered around the attempt to build an actual model of the DNA molecule, explicitly emulating Linus Pauling in his recent successful determination of the alpha helix structure.

The original Watson-Crick model. Attrib: The Board of Trustees of the Science Museum, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0.  Click image to enlarge.

 

They employed a multi-disciplinary approach, which was crucial. Drawing ultimately from X-ray crystallographic information and theoretical considerations, the known biochemistry of DNA, chemical bonding and quantum-mechanical conformational considerations, DNA base-pairing research, and the current genetical research from various fields of biology, Watson and Crick built a series of models, each turning out to have fatal flaws which did not take into consideration all of the known facts. The final model, of course, succeeded; Watson and Crick had learned sufficiently from their failed attempts, and with the assistance of other scientists in their own Cavendish lab and particularly in the King’s college lab, they worked out the final pieces of the puzzle.

Watson and Crick understood what they had accomplished. "Francis winged into the Eagle to tell everyone in hearing distance that we had found the secret of life." (page 115) Finding the structure of DNA has indeed led to great insight into the genetical character of living organisms, and the development of heretofore undreamed of tools for the manipulation of the gene. Yet much mystery remains in molecular genetics, particularly around the control of genetic expression.

The Controversy

Following their publication of the correct model for the structure of DNA in 1953, Watson and Crick were accused by some in the British scientific world, mostly sotto voce, of stealing the credit and/or the data needed for their discovery from Rosalind Franklin and Maurice Wilkins. Watson was keenly aware of this; his first working title for the book was an ironical Honest Jim. In the lead-in to the Double Helix, Watson alluded to the origins for that title. Hiking in the Alps in 1955, he bumped into Willy Seeds, a researcher in Maurice Wilkins’ lab. "Willy soon spotted me, and slowed down, and momentarily gave the impression that he might remove his rucksack and chat for a while. But all he said was, 'How is Honest Jim?'" (page 7)

Perhaps the largest unspoken theme in the discontent around Watson and Crick’s discovery is that they were part-timers, almost dilettantes; how dare they take my research and ideas and incorporate them in a solution, in an area they weren’t even primary researchers?

But did they steal the credit/data? In a word? No. Accusations were voiced. ‘They used other’s research.’ ‘They didn’t do their own research.’ This seems misdirected. Newton’s famous statement ‘I stand on the shoulders of giants’ pithily summarizes an enduring truth of the practice of science: It is primarily a collaborative and a cumulative exercise. All scientists spend their formative years learning the results of past research. Some scientists never do any individual research, but focus on theoretical pursuits ultimately based on other’s research. And so on. Most of the information they relied upon was already published, or freely shared.

The most serious allegations revolved around using someone else’s research without their explicit permission, in particular Rosalind Franklin’s X-ray crystallographic data, which had yet to be formally published in a peer-reviewed journal, the standard means of sharing scientific information. Yet Rosalind Franklin shared that very data in a colloquium to which Watson and Crick had been invited, and which Watson attended. It was also published in a report intended to be shared between research institutions in Britain, in particular the Cavendish and King’s labs, available to Watson and Crick.

Even so, Watson and Crick never sought formal permission to use her unpublished data, some of it crucial to their solution; this fact was central to the unease in the UK scientific community.

These two threads in the practice of science, collaboration and competition, clearly co-exist uncomfortably. This in fact is a major theme of the book. Bragg, in the book’s foreword, captures some of these difficulties, the investigator here Watson and Crick, the colleague, Wilkins:

"The story is a poignant example of a dilemma which may confront an investigator. He knows that a colleague has been working for years on a problem and has accumulated a mass of hard-won evidence, which has not yet been published because it is anticipated that success is just around the corner. He has seen this evidence and has good reason to believe that a method of attack which he can envisage, perhaps merely a new point of view, will lead straight to the solution. An offer of collaboration at such a stage might well be regarded as a trespass. Should he go ahead on his own? It is not easy to be sure whether the crucial new idea is really one's own or has been unconsciously assimilated in talks with others. The realization of this difficulty has led to the establishment of a somewhat vague code amongst scientists which recognizes a claim in a line of research staked out by a colleague - up to a certain point. When competition comes from more than one quarter, there is no need to hold back."

(page 1)

After Watson and Crick had created and shared with King’s an unsuccessful DNA model, Bragg had told them to stop working on DNA and defer to the King’s lab. But the situation changed when Linus Pauling published a model of DNA very like the one Watson and Crick had constructed. It was also incorrect, but made clear that there was now formidable competition outside of the two UK labs. Bragg changed his mind, and gave Watson and Crick the green light to pursue DNA model-building once more; he did not trust that the King’s college would succeed in the competition, as he felt that they were too fractious, cautious, and slow to the mark.

Collaboration

Many of the perceived successes and failures in this story revolve around collaboration, or the lack thereof. "Politeness, Francis Crick said ... is the poison of all good collaboration in science. The soul of collaboration is perfect candor, rudeness if need be. ... A good scientist values criticism almost higher than friendship: no, in science criticism is the height and measure of friendship. The collaborator points out the obvious, with due impatience. He stops the nonsense." (Judson, Eighth Day of Creation, p 147) 

The collaboration between Watson and Crick is celebrated in the history of science. At their first meeting, in his own words Crick was ‘electrified.’ "When I first met Jim, it was remarkable, because we both had the same point of view (about DNA), but he knew all about phage, which I had only read about in books, you see, and I knew all about X-ray diffraction, which he only knew about second-hand." (Judson, Eighth Day of Creation, p 112-113)  They filled in each others scientific gaps, so to speak, which provided a foundation for their subsequent multi-disciplinary approach.

Judson, in his Eighth Day of Creation, quoted a scientific friend on Watson and Crick: "There has to be an extraordinary interaction between two people, before the mind can do what they did. Jim and Francis talked in half sentences. They understood each other almost without words. Modern science is said to be run in teams - but not in this sense at all. Jim and Francis were pretty nearly unique. ... That marvellous resonance between two minds - that high state in which one plus one does not equal two but more like ten." (pages 193-194)

Francis Crick subsequently became the preeminent theoretician of molecular biology for the next thirty years, a phenomenal run; As a student of molecular genetics in 1979 I read Crick’s survey article on the state of DNA research, where he puzzled over the mounting evidence that only a small percentage of DNA seemed to code for proteins, and introduced the terms exon and intron into the lexicon. He played a large role in the research to flesh out what he labeled the Central Dogma of molecular biology: DNA to RNA to Protein. He finally took his hands off the wheel of molecular biology in the early 1980’s and spent the rest of his career in the field of neurology.

James Watson became a successful science administrator, wrote a leading textbook for molecular biology, and jump-started the Human Genome Project. He has continued to court controversy, overly candid as ever, and prone to saying things embarrassing and egregious.

 

Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA, by Brenda Maddox

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See my review of Brenda Maddox’s must-read book, Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA, for additional discussion regarding both the controversy over credit for the discovery, and of the roles played by others, particularly the contributions made by Rosalind Franklin.

Notes

1. The Norton Critical Edition. All references to the book are from the Norton Critical Edition. in this edition, Watson’s account is placed in historical perspective by Gunther Stent’s introduction and by retrospective views from two major figures in the adventure, Francis Crick and Linus Pauling, and by Rosalind Franklin’s last student, Aaron Klug. Background materials include reproductions of the original scientific papers in which the double helical structure of DNA was first presented in 1953 and 1954. There is an extensive and valuable Criticism section, which begins with “A Review of the Reviews” by Gunther Stent, where other leading scientists and scholars reveal their own experiences and views of Watson’s story. There are reviews by Philip Morrison, F. X. S., Richard C. Lewontin, Mary Ellmann, Robert L. Sinsheimer, John Lear, Alex Comfort, Jacob Bronowski, Conrad H. Waddington, Robert K. Merton, Peter M. Medawar, and André Lwoff; as well as three letters to the editor of Science by Max F. Perutz, M. H. F. Wilkins, and James D. Watson.

2.The Path to the Double Helix by Robert Olby is the most rigorous book regarding the history of the science of the discovery of the structure of DNA. It is highly recommended for those interested in the history of molecular biology. Another superb telling is Horace Judson’s The Eighth Day of Creation.

 

The Eighth Day of Creation, by Horace Freeland Judson

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The Path to the Double Helix, by Robert Olby

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"I approach the creation-evolution dispute not as a scientist but as a professor of law."

(page viii)

Book review, Title Darwin On Trial, Author Phillip E. Johnson, Rating 3.0,

Darwin On Trial Phillip E. Johnson Book review

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Phillip Johnson's book Darwin on Trial is to be read to gain a perspective on creationist thinking and argumentation. A lawyer and professional anti-evolutionist, Johnson is proof that the best education the world can provide, from Harvard and the University of Chicago, does not guarantee a mind open to the possibilities of the world. To paraphrase the eponymous Kavanagh, lawyers, in a world awash in grey, seek the black and white. Johnson is a reminder that attorneys are trained to advocate, to make arguments, not to look hard for the best understanding .

Johnson, a law professor who taught in the rarified air of Berkeley, decided in the long twilight of his life, with little knowledge or experience in science, to apply his skill at argumentation to defeat scientific secularism. He desired for America to return to being the frankly Christian country that he believed it once was. To that end, he helped to form the Intelligent Design (ID) movement, the 2nd generation of modern creationism that had been relabeled as ‘creation-science’, and to found its Discovery Institute, in particular, its Center for Science and Culture. (note 1) This movement seeks to re-introduce creationism into scientific education.

An Example of Lawyerly Logic

As a leader in the ID movement, Johnson supported the 1981 Arkansas law requiring the provision of a ‘balanced treatment to creation-science and to evolution-science.’ Johnson defended his advocacy of this law in his Chapter 9: The Rules of Science. The law was successfully challenged by a large coalition of scientists, educators, the ACLU, and mainstream Christian and Jewish organizations. In his case summary, the presiding judge said that ‘creation-science’ does not meet the essential characteristics of science: That it be guided by natural law; that its explanations refer to natural law; that it is empirically testable; that its conclusions are tentative; and that it is falsifiable.

Johnson responded: "Critics pointed out that scientists are not in the least 'tentative' about their basic commitments, including their commitment to evolution. In addition, scientists have often studied the effects of a phenomenon (such as gravity) which they could not explain by natural law. Finally, the critics observed that creation-science makes quite specific empirical claims (a young earth, a worldwide flood, special creation), which mainstream science has said are provably false." (page 101)

Contrary to his first point, the scientific method is clearly tentative. Johnson himself, throughout the book, inadvertently demonstrated this. He liked to point out inconsistencies in older approaches to a particular aspect of evolutionary biology, or in currently contentious or unresolved areas of the field. This is the very tentativeness of the scientific method. He saw it instead as demonstrations of incoherence or lack of solid proof. His own definition of tentativeness missed the point – he referred to the firmness with which science advocates hold to their method.

 

The Principia, by Isaac Newton

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On the second point, in fact nothing in science is ultimately explained by natural law. Newton said in his Principia: "I have not as yet been able to deduce from phenomena the reason for these properties of gravity, and I do not feign hypotheses (Hypotheses non fingo)." Newton offered no deep or final explanation of what gravity actually was, just a means to model how it behaved. Yet his Law is in fact a natural explanation, looking at how nature behaves and providing a predictive model for that behavior. Johnson here again appears confused as to what science is and isn’t.

On the third point, he is correct, that creation-science makes some testable empirical claims, and he specifically mentions as examples a young earth or a world-wide flood. The problem for Johnson here is that the evidence for a young earth is resoundingly negative. There is some evidence for regional flooding, but scant if any evidence for a world-wide flood. If Newton, who spent more time studying Christian theology than he did science, were to survey this kind of evidence, he would reject the hypothesis and move on. (note 3) This is the scientific method in action; the history of science is littered with discarded hypotheses. As to special creation, it is not a testable or falsifiable hypothesis, the very problem that the judge in the Arkansas case pointed out.

Aimless Attacks

Some of Johnson’s criticisms of evolutionary biology were justified: He pointed out some acknowledged difficulties and holes in evolutionary biological thinking and, at his most accessible, he was clear-eyed about science explication that sometimes crosses the line of careful science into dogmatism. (note 2) Yet too often he was simply off-target. He didn’t seem to understand the aims or methods of science, its mutability and progression, and in particular seemed unaware of the less-than-perfect modeling that comprises its tentative core.

Attrib: Forluvoft, modified, PD.

 

Some surprising parallels can be found in Erwin Chargaff’s unrelenting assault, from inside the scientific establishment, on molecular biology. As the search for the physical gene heated up after World War II, Chargaff’s biochemical research on DNA base pairing added a vital part to the solution of DNA’s structure. When the structure was solved in 1953 by Watson and Crick, molecular biology exploded. Chargaff felt he had received insufficient credit for his part in the discovery (he was not awarded the Nobel Prize). He spent the rest of his long life bitterly mocking the efforts to extend the molecular understanding of life, taking every opportunity to point out perceived weaknesses in theoretical and philosophical approaches to molecular biology, appealing to ways of the past.

There were and still are weaknesses in the approach to molecular biology, and who better than an eminent biochemist to elucidate them? He was not wrong, per se, with some of his criticism. Yet science adjusts to new ideas and facts; the field of molecular biology has continued to make progress, overcoming many of Chargaff’s early objections.

Clueless about Science

The Evangelical professor of philosophy Nancey Murphy reviewed Johnson’s book in her article Phillip Johnson on Trial. She found "Johnson's own arguments dogmatic and unconvincing. The main reason is that he does not adequately understand scientific reasoning."

She pointed out that science seeks the best available explanation; an assessment of a theory is thereby relative rather than absolute. During the normal poking of holes in a scientific theory, practicing scientists seek to test and to progress in understanding. If a problem persists, the theory is altered; it is generally not abandoned unless and until there is a better alternative, the now best available explanation. She observed that "hypothetical reasoning ... can never amount to proof. The best that can be hoped for is a high degree of confirmation. Much of what philosophy of science is about is examination of the conditions under which a scientific theory can be said to be well-confirmed. So objecting that any scientific theory is 'not proved' is empty as one can be."

Murphy also noted that Johnson provided no workable replacement for the Theory of Evolution, and asked: "What would evolutionary biologists do if there is no conception of the field to guide their research?" Johnson responded: "That evolutionary biologists fear unemployment tends more to call their objectivity into question than to establish that the theory they cherish is true."(Phillip Johnson, Reason in the Balance, page 230)  Avoiding an answer to her question, his ad hominem retort demonstrated once again how little he understood about the methods of science, where a working theory is an integral part of the method.

Wide of the Mark

Johnson’s style in Darwin on Trial has been described as mordant or trenchant, i.e. sharp-elbowed, the same description applied to Chargaff’s criticisms in his day. (note 4) Chargaff was fueled by unquenchable disappointment and Johnson by religious dogmatism; neither of them directly acknowledged their primary motivations. Both became anti-reductionists, a particularly difficult viewpoint for Chargaff as a practicing scientist.

Together Johnson and Chargaff demonstrated that it is possible to make some accurate critical assessments and still be wide of the mark.

Today molecular biology is at the center of a biology organized by an evolutionary outlook. It is this approach to biology that arms us to react with unprecedented understanding and speed to the current coronavirus pandemic. Without the scientific method we have few weapons to respond.

Notes

 

Absence of Mind, by Marilynne Robinson

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The Path to the Double Helix, by Robert Olby

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The Eighth Day of Creation, by Horace Freeland Judson

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1. An anti-science institute entitled the “Center for Science?” A better example of empty rhetoric might be hard to find.

2. Like Johnson, Marilynne Robinson, in her Absence of Mind essays, capably takes ‘parascientists’ to task, her term for those who practice scientism, dogmatically overstate their case and arrogantly misuse the authority of science. And like Johnson, she inevitably overplays her hand, showing some glaring misunderstanding of the practice and limits of science, and mis-applying the poor behavior of those ‘parascientists’ to the whole of science.

3. Detailed discussion of the scientific evidence for and against the young earth and global flood hypotheses can be found on the Talk Origins website.

4. Erwin Chargaff on his first meeting with Watson and Crick: "Two pitchmen in search of a helix." (Robert Olby, The Path to the Double Helix, page 389) 
Chargaff on molecular biology: "I am against the overexplanation of science, because I think it impedes the flow of scientific imagination and associations. My main objecton to molecular biology is that by its claim to be able to explain everything it actually hinders the free flow of scientific ideas. ... If DNA, a hundred years ago a humble molecule in Miescher's hands, has been hypostasized into one of the symbols of the ever-increasing divorce from reality that characterizes our living and thinking, this may be taken as one of the signs that the winds of alienation have begun to beat at the doors of what was the most concrete building erected by the Western mind, namely, that of science." (Horace Judson, The Eighth Day of Creation, page 222) 

"Gravity rules the universe."

(page i)

Book review, Title Gravity, Author George Gamow, Rating 4.5, Galileo, Newton and Einstein on Gravity

Gravity George Gamow Book review

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This is an explication of the modern understanding of Gravity for an audience comfortable with algebra and geometry. The author reasons tightly, so the book cannot be read lightly. But those genuinely curious about the intellectual story of gravity will find in the physicist George Gamow a superb teacher, one adept at explaining physics to the uninitiated, children or adults, and to the newly initiated, high school and college students.

Gamow begins with Galileo’s invention of the modern scientific method, in which he moved away from medieval Aristotelean concepts and approaches. The author shows how, through experimentation with pendulums and with objects dropped from a tower or rolled down inclined planes, Galileo came to a more rigorous understanding of the motion of falling bodies. Not only did he determine that the bodies were under constant acceleration, but he showed that the acceleration was independent of the size of the body. Galileo also discovered the principle of superposition of motion, noting that there were two motions, the horizontal propulsion and the vertical fall. His precise measurement of time were central to his efforts to understand motion, and lead to the wide-spread use of pendulum-driven clocks.

Gamow follows on with Newton’s development of the Law of Universal Gravitation. Newton relied in part on Galileo’s insights here to combine the hitherto separate terrestrial and celestial explanations of falling bodies. In his treatment of celestial mechanics, the author provides a demonstration that Newton’s Laws of Motion and Universal Gravitation incorporated and proved Kepler’s Laws of Planetary Motion.

Gamow applies Newton’s principles to planetary orbits, the tides, and the concept of escape velocity, and explained how these principles were used to identify the as-yet-unobserved planets of Neptune and Pluto. To lay the groundwork for his explication of Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity, Gamow spends some time describing the wobble of planets that rotate on their axis.

What is particularly valuable in this book is the author’s use of geometrical arguments to explain the reasoning of Galileo, Newton and Einstein. For example, Galileo developed accurate mathematical models of falling bodies using in part proto-calculus methods. Gamow carefully walks the reader through the development of these models, and shows how Galileo imitated Archimedes’ method for determining geometrical volumes to determine the equation for the constant acceleration of a falling body with respect to time. The author also demonstrates how some of the rudiments of calculus were later developed by Newton from this approach.

This book would make an excellent addition to a high school AP Physics class.

"She had been getting remarkable results. The only researcher working at high humidity, determined to get the best possible photographs before embarking on interpretation, she took sharp clear pictures that revealed something no one had noticed before. There were two forms of DNA. When hydrated, the figure became longer and thinner. ... All earlier attempts to understand DNA's structure had been looking at a blur of the two forms. ... This achievement was essential to the great discovery that lay in wait."

(page 153)

Book review, Title Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA, Author Brenda Maddox, Rating 4.5,

Rosalind Franklin: The Dark Lady of DNA Brenda Maddox Book review

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Rosalind Franklin was one of the primary actors in the search for the structure of the DNA molecule. In 1968 James Watson published The Double Helix, his personal account of the elucidation of the structure of DNA, in which he de-emphasized Rosalind Franklin's critical contributions during the period of discovery, while drawing a negative portrait of her.  Franklin did not receive the Nobel Prize for this discovery, but Watson and Crick did. Why not? Rank villainy? Brenda Maddox does a superb job of sorting out Franklin's complex story.

Attrib: Robin Stott, CC BY-SA 2.0.

 

Franklin, working in the King’s college lab under John Randall, took the influential X-ray crystallographic photo of the B form of DNA, photo 51. Watson and Crick, working in the Cavendish lab under Lawrence Bragg, relied on her information, along with several other lines of evidence and theoretical work, and emulated Linus Pauling by building actual physical models of the molecule of life, finally producing the correct model. They published their model in 1953 in the periodical Nature, along with separate papers by Franklin and Maurice Wilkins of King’s describing the crystallographic evidence. This method of publishing was intended and received as a direct acknowledgement of the critical contribution to the solution made by the various parties. (Think of the periodical Nature as the door of the scientific Wittenberg church.)

Franklin left her work on DNA in 1953 to pursue other topics, handing it over to Wilkins; she died five years later, still four years before the Nobel prize was awarded for the discovery of DNA. Nobel prizes are not awarded posthumously, so Franklin was no longer a candidate for the award. Wilkins was awarded the Nobel prize along with Watson and Crick for the DNA discovery.

Briefly noted, Title Rosalind Franklin and DNA, Author Anne Sayre, Rating 3.0,

Rosalind Franklin and DNA Anne Sayre Briefly noted

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The first biographer of Rosalind Franklin was Anne Sayre, who wrote more of a defense of her friend than a balanced history. In her book Rosalind Franklin and DNA, she argued that Franklin was ignored and treated shabbily by the men's club of British science; certainly Watson's tone in The Double Helix supported that hypothesis. (Of course, Watson was indiscriminately harsh to everyone in his book.) Sayre had real difficulty separating her feelings about her friend from a more careful assessment of Franklin's role in the discovery of the structure of DNA. The subsequent book by Brenda Maddox, The Dark Lady of DNA, is much better.

Brenda Maddox’s treatment of Franklin’s story is well-researched, broader, and much more nuanced. Maddox certainly found much to support the idea that at the time, women in science, few in number, and Franklin in particular, bucked up against a great deal of sexist prejudice and dismissal. But she also noted that Franklin herself had had good opportunities and comfortable working relationships in the labs she worked in before and after her DNA work, performing and getting appropriate credit for first rate work, and suggested that some of the problems she encountered, some alluded to by the crass Watson, were specific to her situation in that lab.

Maurice Wilkins led the DNA research efforts at King’s lab prior to her arrival. Franklin, a leading practitioner of X-ray crystallography, was recruited by Randall to join the lab to study protein solutions. Wilkins asked Randall if she could be assigned to the DNA problem, to which he agreed. Yet when she started, new to DNA and building on Wilkins’ research, she proved largely unwilling to work with him. Why?

Randall had deliberately misled Wilkins and Franklin about their roles in the lab, telling the newcomer Franklin but not Wilkins that she alone would now be responsible for the DNA research, and gave her the most up-to-date equipment and the best DNA samples to work with, all of which had been acquired by Wilkins. Randall pitted the two researchers against each other rather than foster cooperation between them. The result was damaging to both of their efforts. It poisoned much of the communication in their lab and between the King’s and Cambridge labs. In particular, Wilkins expected and repeatedly sought collaboration with Franklin, with little success. A persistent bitterness and emnity from Wilkins towards Franklin resulted.

The Science

Prior to Franklin’s arrival, Wilkins had extended William Astbury’s work on DNA. Wilkins was the first to recognize that DNA could, under the right circumstances, form crystals, and improved the techniques of filming them, taking the first clear pictures. He validated Astbury’s measurement of the helical width, 20 Ångstroms, and the inter-base repeat of 3.4 Ångstroms, and his early pictures hinted at a helical structure.

After Franklin arrived, Wilkins never quite adjusted to the uncomfortable situation. With inferior equipment and material, he still made further crystallographic progress. Working with Alexander Stokes’, they applied Stoke’s helical diffraction theory to his experimental results, and tentatively concluded that DNA was helical.

Franklin, despite the tension in the lab, produced critical experimental results. She was the first to determine that there were two structurally distinct forms of DNA, which she labeled A and B. It is the B form that is found predominantly in nature; previous X-ray photos of DNA were usually blurred due in part to their being a mixture of the A and B forms. Her measurement of the length of the B form helical repeat, 34 Ångstroms, the height of a single complete turn of the helix, was a new discovery.

Her other crystallographic results, including photo 51, provided clearer evidence of the helical structure; provided additional measurements of the helical width and inter-base distance, validating Astbury’s and Wilkin’s measurements; provided more accurate density and humidity measurements (aiding in a determination of the number of chains in the molecule, two); provided clearer arguments and evidence that the bases were in the interior rather rather than on the outside of the molecule; and finally identified the correct symmetry group, which allowed Crick to determine that the two chains were going in the opposite direction of each other. (Interestingly, Franklin did not catch this.)

Photo 51, X-ray diffraction photo of the B-form of DNA. Attrib: Robin Stott, CC BY-SA 2.0.

 

Crystallography involves shining X-rays through the target crystalline DNA molecule (meaning the molecule had been prepared in a way that the conglomeration of target molecules in the sample were in a very regular structure), which then were scattered in a unique way determined by the internal atomic structure of DNA, exposing film in a spot pattern particular to DNA.

Franklin did make some of her own attempts to solve the structure using mathematical techniques. This analysis of the X-ray patterns was an attempt to work backwards from the spots on the photo and figure out what the structure of the molecule was by the way the light was deflected from the direction of the original source of X-rays, a little bit like a criminologist determining the direction from which a bullet was fired by working backward from the bullet embedded in a wall. The crystallographic analysis is much more complex than the problem the criminologist has, particularly in the case of DNA, composed of many atoms in a complex arrangement, all of which can affect the scattering of the incoming X-rays.

Franklin’s analysis bore fruit, but it did not lead her to to the solution (note 1); ultimately, the crystallographic evidence was itself simply insufficient to fully reveal the structure.

The Importance of Collaboration

"Politeness, Francis Crick said ... is the poison of all good collaboration in science. The soul of collaboration is perfect candor, rudeness if need be."

-Judson, Eighth Day of Creation, p 149

Francis Crick may have said it best, that Rosalind just needed someone to talk things over with, to collaborate with, like he and Watson had fallen into, and then she may well have been able to get past her own sphere of knowledge and approach to find the structure of DNA first. Aaron Klug said something similar, after he had analyzed her notebooks from her DNA research.

Having closed the door to Wilkins, and seeing no value in working with Watson and Crick, whom she saw at the time as rank amateurs, Franklin’s only collaborator in DNA research was her post-doc assistant, Raymond Gosling. Gosling has weighed in on collaborating with Franklin:

"I think you've got to remember that it was difficult for women in science, much more then than it is now. ... She was shy, I think - certainly not the person to let her imagination fire up openly about structural ideas to somebody like Maurice. But we used to have terrific arguments together. Her great strength was that you could have this very frank discussion about the work, and it never got personal, it was objective, and it would push along to reach somewhere. But she would never get like that with Maurice. She would do that with me. And if at that time she had had someone of her own standing to have those frank and fierce discussions with, it might have helped. And I felt repeatedly that Maurice was trying various ways to stimulate Rosalind into saying something about the structure, but she for her part would say, 'We are not going to speculate, we are going to wait, we are going to let the spots on this photograph tell us what the structure is.' And so since there was nobody here Maurice could talk to who was willing to speculate about the structure, he talked to Crick and Watson about it."

(Judson, Eighth Day of Creation, p 149) 

"Now what we have here is a failure to communicate."

-Cool Hand Luke

The biggest failure of collaboration was clearly between Wilkins and Franklin. (Ironically, after she left DNA research, Franklin collaborated some both with Crick, and perhaps more surprisingly, with Watson, with whom she worked fruitfully and amicably together on aspects of her tobacco mosaic research.)

Denied Franklin as a collaborator, Wilkins found himself discussing the problems of DNA with Watson and Crick. He communicated regularly with them with full knowledge that they were trying to solve the DNA structure, including sharing some of his own and Franklin’s data. (note 2) Watson and Crick had offered multiple times to bring Wilkins up to speed on the modeling approach, encouraging him to take that approach himself, only to be deflected. Wilkins was slow to see the advantages of the approach, and found himself in a holding pattern, waiting for Franklin to finally depart.

 

The Third Man Of The Double Helix, by Maurice Wilkins

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Had she and Wilkins collaborated, they might well have come to the solution together. In fact Wilkins, in his own autobiography, made that very point:

"The discussion in Rosalind's notebook of two-chain DNA with three-eighths separation was from a month or so before the Double Helix model was built. I felt it gratifying that Rosalind had set down those thoughts independently of the new Cambridge work. She did not mention the idea of base-pairing; but I was keen about the importance of that idea, and if she and I had discussed the problem there would have been little to prevent us finding the Double Helix."

(Third Man of the Double Helix, p 221) 

If there is a real bogeyman in this story, it might be John Randall rather than James Watson. His mismanagement of the initial situation, never rectified, seemed no less than gross negligence; he all but ensured that his two main DNA researchers, rather than working together to further a solution, spent too much of their energies fighting with each other, losing what all collaborator’s gain – a synthesis of ideas much greater than what each individually contributed.

In addition, Wilkins and Franklin clearly rubbed each other the wrong way, and found it difficult to work together for reasons beyond sexism and heavy-handed leadership. (The ironical Dark Lady of the book’s title is from a phrase used by Wilkins to describe Franklin.)

The Controversy over Credit

Franklin was only one part of the controversy over who deserved credit for the discovery of DNA. Many, especially some of those more directly involved in the experimental research, were bitter about Watson’s and Crick’s getting there before they did, chief among them Erwin Chargaff, who had been researching nucleic acids, and had discovered one of the critical facts needed to solve the structure: When analyzing DNA from various species, the four organic bases that were part of the DNA polymer showed the same specific ratios, with the number of adenines equaling the number of thymines, and the number of guanines equaling the number of cytosines.

Another, Jerry Donohue, had determined the most probable conformation of those same bases using theoretical quantum mechanical arguments, another critical factor. Both of these men felt that they had claim to a share of the Nobel Prize that went to Watson and Crick. Even Maurice Wilkins, who did share the prize, was unsettled about the role of Watson and Crick. Wilkins had shared King’s research with Watson and Crick, and had even, if reluctantly, given them permission to pursue the problem of the DNA structure. But in the England of the 1950’s, it wasn’t considered quite cricket to use someone else’s research to further one’s own.

Those who felt slighted alluded to the idea that Watson and Crick had taken their work and only put it together. Yet their research had been shared, publicly and privately, particularly by Chargaff, Wilkins and Donohue. Franklin had led a colloquium which Watson attended and to which Crick was invited, and some of her results had been published in a report by the umbrella organization Medical Research Council (MRC), which was designed to share information between their respective labs. Even so, no permission from Franklin was asked by Watson or Crick to use her unpublished data.

The final controversy was triggered by the entry of Linus Pauling into the competition. Already a Nobel Prize winner, he had recently published a proposed model of DNA, built from published facts, like Watson and Crick; but his model was seriously flawed. Pauling had recently determined a sub-structure of a large and complex biological macromolecule, the alpha helix, using such modeling techniques. Bragg feared that Pauling would correct his errors quickly and would scoop his lab again (Bragg’s lab itself barely missed the structure of the alpha helix). Bragg, who had restrained Watson and Crick from moving forward in deference to the King’s lab, gave Watson and Crick permission to go forward again, particularly because he feared that the King’s lab was too dysfunctional to organize a rapid assault on the structure, and the multi-disciplinary approach by Watson and Crick seemed most promising, as it turned out to be.

Perhaps surprisingly, Rosalind Franklin did not hold the attitudes of Chargaff or Dononue or Wilkins. Franklin had completed the move from King’s to Birkbeck college under John Bernal in the spring of 1953, just after the DNA solution was announced. Having left her DNA work, by most accounts because she was unhappy with her working situation rather than her disinterest in the subject, she made no public nor private argument over the matter of priority or credit, even though her research contributed critical experimental information needed to solve the structure.

The Nobel Prize

The original Watson-Crick model. Attrib: The Board of Trustees of the Science Museum, CC BY-NC-SA 4.0.  Click image to enlarge.

 

It is possible that Franklin would have received the Nobel prize had she lived. Yet beyond the initial simultaneous publications in Nature, Watson, Crick and Wilkins did little to promote the importance of her work in the discovery of the DNA structure while she was alive. Was this deliberate, part of an early campaign to minimize her chances for a Nobel? Probably not. The candidates for the 1962 prize were largely determined after her death in 1958.

In any event, the Nobel Prize does not generally reflect the collaborative nature of leading edge science. Even large individual contributions to knowledge are made on the shoulders of giants, as Newton so famously pointed out. Yet Alfred Nobel’s prizes are limited to a few, so cannot reward all who contributed, whether large or small.

The discovery of the structure of DNA, a seminal event in the field of molecular biology, was indeed produced from the work of many researchers over a long span of time, the most notable perhaps (where to start? who to leave out?):

• Miescher’s characterization of nucleic acid;
• organic crystallographic work by the Bragg’s, Max von Laue and Linus Pauling;
• John Griffith’s pneumococcal transformation by nucleic acid;
• Oswald Avery’s identifying DNA as the transforming agent;
• Alfred Hershey and Martha Chase’s demonstration that DNA was the genetic component of bacteriophage viruses;
• Erwin Chargaff’s careful determination of organic base ratios;
• Jerry Donohue’s identification of organic base conformations;
• William Astbury, Wilkins and Franklin’s crystallographic work on DNA;
• and finally the puzzle solving Watson and Crick, who put all of these pieces together to describe the correct physical model of DNA.

Only some of these people received Nobel prizes for their efforts. Of those eligible, Griffith, Avery, Chase, Chargaff, Donohue, and Astbury were not awarded the Nobel prize. Miescher lived before the Nobel prize was established, and Franklin, as already noted, died before she could be considered. Roughly half of this list were left out.

Her Legacy

Did Franklin deserve a Nobel prize for her work on the structure of DNA? Unquestionably, in this reader’s eyes. Would she have received it had she lived? There was certainly ample argument for her nomination, buttressed by her simultaneous publication in Nature alongside Watson and Crick’s announcement of DNA’s structure, and by the pieces of experimental evidence that she alone produced that were critical parts of the solution.

In some ways, Rosalind Franklin’s story is a tragedy, a life quite possibly brought short by cancer induced by her heavy overexposure to X-rays, but it is first the tale of a brilliant physical chemist who contributed a great deal to science in her short life, extending scientific understanding of the structure of DNA, of coal, and of the tobacco mosaic virus. Full recognition of her contributions came late, but she is deservedly celebrated today.

Notes

1. Today, with the availability of powerful computers, this is a more accessible technique for large molecules, but was extremely time-consuming and difficult in the 1950’s, made no easier by the fact that it was done manually. Using similar techniques in the same era, Perutz and Kendrew solved the structure of hemoglobin, another large and even more complex biomolecule; it took them better than twenty years.

2. Too much has been made of the fact that Wilkins, two months before the structure was determined, showed Watson Franklin’s photo 51, as if he were sharing someone else’s research. In fact, Franklin had already handed over her research to Wilkins, as she had ceased her DNA research at King’s and already taken a new position at Birkbeck’s college. (Even after leaving the research, she continued to work on the final summaries and papers with Gosling). Wilkins had every right to show the photo to Watson. Wilkins himself later regretted showing the photo to Watson, for his own reasons: He had started positioning his team to resume full-on assault of the DNA problem. He was waiting for Franklin to finish up her summaries before resuming. Ironically, this turned out to be March 7th, the very day that Watson and Crick were finalizing their successful model.

3. Other books recommended on the subject of the discovery of the structure of DNA:

 

The Double Helix: Norton Critical Edition, by James D. Watson, Gunther Stent

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The Eighth Day of Creation, by Horace Freeland Judson

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The Path to the Double Helix, by Robert Olby

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Book review, Title From Harvard to Hell And Back, Author Eric H. Sigward, Rating 3.0,

From Harvard to Hell And Back Eric H. Sigward Book review

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From Harvard to Hell and Back is an autobiographical account of a young phenom who in the late 1960's and early 1970's attended Horace Mann, Harvard, where he rowed on the crew and joined the Porcellian Club, then Cambridge, Stanford, and several divinity schools. It is a crazy book, of hubris and wild youth, drugs, sex, the occult, and finally, Jesus.

Eric was one of several seminary interns from the Bay Area Peninsula Bible Church, all of whom were guests in my parent’s house on and off during the mid-1970’s. I only met a couple of the interns (one of which was the notorious Bryan Fischer (note 1)), sadly Eric was not among them. The stories I heard about him from my family were intriguing and entertaining. One story of Eric remains in my memory: Eric, out of the blue, asked another intern, Tina, to marry him (they had no romantic relationship), and when she emphatically replied, ‘No,’ he responded, ‘Well, how about tennis?’

So when I stumbled across this book, I was able to determine it was the same Eric Sigward, and decided to read it.

The Christian autobiographies I read as a child, a natural consequence of being raised in an Evangelical household, had a predicable arc: ‘I was blind, but now I see’. They are in part evangelical appeals: ‘I grew up a sinner, and after perhaps a tour of the darker side of life, and after a struggle to understand my purpose on this earth, I found and accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior, and I am now eternally safe, and my life is immeasurably better. You too can follow Jesus.’

 

Confessions Of Saint Augustine, by Saint Augustine, R.S. Pine-Coffin

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Eric’s book more or less follows that pattern, but feels more like St. Augustine’s Confessions, wherein Augustine catalogued his numerous sins prior to his adult conversion to Christianity. His extensive passage through hedonism is tinged with regret, but seemed to me only tinged; in fact Augustine seemed to relish reliving the old life, and famously beseeched God: "Master, give me chastity and celibacy, but not yet." (Confessions of Augustine, Book VIII)  This same sense permeates Eric’s account, and makes it feel more human and less didactic, less Christian Socialist Realism than typical of books in this genre I encountered in my youth.

Eric Sigward died recently, on February 28, 2021. He has been celebrated by the New York City religious community. Perhaps some of Eric’s best years were spent teaching at the New York School of Divinity (NYSD). Paul de Vries, president of NYSD, said of Eric that he was “a riveting storyteller with a very clear and comprehensive worldview and was inspirational to his students. … Students loved his weird sense of humor that was fun for its brazen rejection of stuffiness.” God speed, Eric.

Notes

1. Seminary intern Bryan Fischer. Fischer was led into far right Christian politics, working for the last many years at the American Family Association (AFA). At the height of his notoriety, he cast a wide net of aspersions over Muslims, Native Americans, Hispanics, and African Americans, and homosexuals, who he claimed were the cause of the Holocaust, and that Hillary Clinton was a lesbian. At one point, the Southern Poverty Law Center designated the AFA a hate group, until the AFA specifically repudiated Fischer’s views on those subjects.

2. Eric has his own Youtube channel.

Jean-Michel Moreau. Family.

 

My nephew Jean-Michel was reading a book by Sam Harris called Waking Up, which he found stimulating, and he recommended another of Harris’s books, End of Faith for me to read. I responded by saying that I have not read any books by Harris, but am familiar with him through some of his articles, including his idea of the end of faith. His name comes up in the atheism v. religion shouting matches, reverently on the atheism side, dismissively on the religious side. I tend to respond in a moderating way to both sides of the screaming.

I think that lock-step religious behavior is too often unintelligent and unresponsive to societal needs, too often intolerant. Note the “lock-step.” But not all religious thinking and behavior is inflexible, and some of it produces the best kind of compassionate behavior. Many religious adherents, including many Muslims, a religion of particular concern to Sam Harris, do not believe in using destructive means to accomplish their earthly goals. Harris sees the worst of religious behavior, and there is plenty to be found, and from this suggests that it has to go (even moderate religion, and most crucially, individual religion) due to its inherent irrationality, that is: How can you make a good decision based on blind adherence to rigid postulates, even in the face of contradicting evidence? When put that way, of course one must get rid of faith-based religion and embrace pure rationality! Besides, look at all of the violence performed in the name of God! (Now, if I could just get the proper rhythm to my speech, I could be up on the dais, preachin’ my heart away.)

I believe that Harris is not mistaken about the worst aspects of religious behavior, and I wholeheartedly (whoops! that human irrationality seems irrepressible) agree with him regarding the separation of church and state. I also agree with him that organized religion is not needed to formulate acceptable societal norms or ethics. But I do not think that he is right in extending the worst possibilities to all of religious behavior, and think he places insufficient emphasis on the primary source of poor human behavior: human nature. Violent societal conflicts (wars, genocides) have been primarily about human fears, greed, hatred, survival, quest for control, and so on, with ideology providing justification. (For me, organized religion is just another ideology.) Bertrand Russell says this rather well: "I think that the evils that men inflict on each other, and by reflection upon themselves, have their main source in evil passions rather than in ideas or beliefs. But ideas and principles that do harm are, as a rule, though not always, cloaks for evil passions."(Bertrand Russell, Unpopular Essays, Ideas that have harmed mankind, p. 143) 

For example, historians often describe the 16th-17th century European wars as Christian wars of religion, and the two 20th century world wars as wars driven by the secular totalitarian ideologies of Nazism and Soviet Communism. They are not wrong, but to stop at the ideological level is not even close to right. One way to illustrate this is that during the Thirty Years War, fought between Catholics and Lutheran Protestants, in a given battle it was not unusual for Catholics to be fighting Catholics or Protestants to be fighting Protestants! Under Nazism, German Protestant churches by and large supported the government, including the anti-Semitic laws, and Wehrmacht soldiers wore belt buckles inscribed Gott mitt Uns. These facts are the tip of the historical iceberg: for each piece of historical evidence supporting an ideological motivation for war, you will find one or more pieces of evidence which suggests a non-ideological motivation, like tribal enmity, fear of other. Like Russell, I am more inclined to believe that ideology is too often used as a justificatory mask for the most basic human nature, evil or otherwise.

Sam Harris. Attrib: Christopher Michel, CC BY-SA 4.0.

 

As for pure rationality – well, good luck with that! It doesn’t exist in human nature. Even Sam Harris gets overly emotional about his point of view sometimes. I agree with him that we should make societal decisions based not on blind faith, but the best available thinking and evidence. But good luck again in sorting out what precisely is the best available thinking and evidence. Science is our best means to analyze many, if not all, problems, but it does not always provide as clear an answer as its most passionate proponents maintain. Ironically, Sam Harris’s own discipline of neurobiology is young, sparse and murky at best. Science is a way of modeling our world, and does not represent what it models precisely. And even if it did, it does not provide any simple way to prioritize where societal resources should be spent. Emotions will always be involved in societal decision making, including emotions expressed via ideological thinking.

Faith will always play a role in human life, if only because it takes some small dash of daily hope to believe that life is worth living, and what is hope if not the minimum threshold of faith?

We are all in need of some kind of faith. Faith will always play a role in human life, if only because it takes some small dash of daily hope to believe that life is worth living, and what is hope if not the minimum threshold of faith? I think that Harris goes too far in seeing or desiring the end of faith (or more specifically, the end of religion) as the best for the human future.

Sam Harris points out real issues with closed ideological thinking, but his solution is to a degree itself closed ideologically and culturally. Ideologies are bound up in culture, that most persistent and coercive of sociological influences. Addressing Harris’s valid concerns about the irrational influences of rigid ideology on society requires an effort to better understand the rules of cultural construction: for example, why are we so easily dismissive of interpretations that deviate from our own culture? But while we are waiting for the scientific method to improve our sociological understanding, we must continue making efforts to change society for the better of society as a whole, not just that selfish part of society that represent our own narrow cultural, national, or ideological tribes. Sam Harris clearly desires this, yet his lack of a wider audience is due in part to some of his own narrowness.

Good ideologues sell over-simplistic ideas (just add a letter, and you get ideaLs), good ideologues assume more importance for their own AND opposing ideologies than any ideology can bear, and Sam is a good ideologue. He is a useful voice, perhaps in the way that the concept of an ideal gas is heuristically useful in physics. Were human behavior only as simple as physics.

Attrib: Tumisu, Pixabay, CC0 PD.

 

Yet I do not dismiss Sam Harris, just as I don’t dismiss religious adherents who contribute something for all of us, like Pope Francis, a somewhat lonely beacon of compassion in the Catholic Church’s overly-controlling hierarchy. And through any sincere ideological discussions, shouldn’t compassion be the focus? Aren’t we collectively better off if we incline away from our innate selfishness and toward our instincts for compassion? We improve our ability to do so through progress in science and less coercive interpretations of religious texts. But we don’t need to wait for more understanding to tell us to act more compassionately and less selfishly right now. Reason and emotion are both required: Reason by itself is insufficient for a more wide-scale adoption of compassion.

"The bravery, intelligence and refined manners of the Saracens made a great impression on the Christian knights, and they soon began to imitate those whom they had at first despised. New branches of learning, especially astronomy, mathematics and medicine, were brought to Europe from the East; more luxurious habits of life, giving rise to finer arts of industry, followed; and commerce, compelled to supply the Crusaders and Christian colonists at such a distance, was rapidly developed to an extent unknown since the fall of the Roman Empire."

(page 244)

Book review, Title A History of Germany, Author Bayard Taylor, Rating 4.0,

A History of Germany Bayard Taylor Book review

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This is the first history of Germany I have read since the mid-1970's. It is nearly a complete history, stopping in 1883, ten years after it's author died. (his wife extended the history 14 more years in a subsequent edition.) An American writer, Bayard Taylor was most well-known for his travel writing, but was also a poet and a historian. His history reads easily, as might be expected from a writer of popular travel accounts, and is reasonably complete.

Taylor spent a good deal of his adult life in Germany as a Goethe scholar and popular writer, and married a German lady. He clearly admired the German people, particularly the achievements of the early German Empire, formally constructed in 1871 and led by Chancellor Bismarck. Taylor’s view carried the expectations of the Enlightenment, and ironically ends with an optimistic outlook for Germany, who forty years after this book was published, started World War I, and then twenty years later, World War II.

His accounts of early German tribes, the Carolingian period, and the Holy Roman Empire are worth the read.

This book has the additional quality of being beyond copyright, and is thereby free for any reader.

Book review, Title A Brief History Of Time, Author Stephen W. Hawking, Rating 4.5,

A Brief History Of Time Stephen W. Hawking Book review

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A Brief History of Time is the single best popularized science book I have read to date on the subject of modern physics. It has been held that kind of regard since it has been published in 1988, but I resisted reading it, because I had formed the opinion that modern physics, buried so deeply in mathematical models divorced from everyday experience, was simply too difficult to convey to the non-practitioner, that vast group including myself.

Hawking does a superb job for most of the book in conceptualizing these theories, his departure point classical physics. His pithy description of the major points of development of classical physics is masterful. The arcane difficulties of modern physics, that is quantum mechanics, the general theory of relativity, and modern cosmology, precludes any but the initiated, professional physicists, from a comfortable understanding; nonetheless Hawking produces accessible explanations.

As he is winding down with a description of unified theories it finally becomes a bit of a slog, sailing pretty much completely over my head, but all in all, a tremendous achievement.

"For thirty years, over this green uncrowded land, The Wars of the Roses had been fought. But it had been more of a blood feud than a war. ... It was a small concentrated war; almost a private party."

(page 44)

Book review, Title The Daughter Of Time, Author Josephine Tey, Rating 3.5, Getting Over the Hump

The Daughter Of Time Josephine Tey Book review

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My mother read Josephine Tey novels when I was growing up, but I was not tempted to follow in her stead. Her mystery novels held little interest, but recently I noted that one of them, The Daughter of Time, was an historical novel probing the old accusation that Richard III had murdered his young nephews, and so, curiosity piqued, I determined to read it. I found the tone a little too arch, but her historiographical approach was both edifiying and revealing.

Edifying via the skepticism applied to the motivation of historians and even to the chroniclers, those original sources: Tudor historians could scarcely be trusted to provide an unbiased account of the Plantagenet man from whom they seized the throne. Her approach to the evidence was to speculate about the likely motivations of the main actors, be they Lancaster, York or Tudor, and point out the unlikely conclusions historians have made based on said motivations.

Revealing in that her overall conclusions seem as skewed as Shakespeare’s was. Shakespeare, who’s famous portrait of Richard III was drawn from Holinshed’s Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and Thomas More’s History of Richard III, depicted a usurper, a monster both in physical form and in the ruthless actions he performed to reach the throne illegitimately, killing the rightful heirs, his young nephews. Of course each of these wrote under Tudor reign. Tey’s portrait was of a good and capable man who legitimately ascended the throne, was falsely accused of murdering the disputed heirs to the throne, and was betrayed by those around him, rivals who ironically engineered the usurpation of his legitimate reign and destroyed his reputation to cover up their own foul deeds.

The truth lies between. Richard was a capable leader who did what the kings of England did: seek power by means fair and foul. Did he kill his nephews, the next in line for the throne? There remains no clear evidence of the cause of their deaths. But Richard did have others killed in his quest for power, just as many of his predecessors did in their time, and which his successor Henry VII did in his own grasp for power, including of course, Richard himself. Tey argues that Richard himself did not usurp, but that his nephews had been demonstrated to be illegitimate, thus putting him in line for the throne. Certainly that is what Richard presented to Parliament, who were persuaded to issue a law making Richard the heir. Tey asserts that Richard’s Parliamentary case for legitimacy was justified; most historians disagree. Yet on this point rests Tey’s main argument.

There seems little doubt that Richard was not the monster he is described in most histories; he was ruthless in his pursuit of power, but no more so than others, including his usurper Henry Tudor. Henry Tudor, himself far from the direct line for the throne, killed the sitting king, then worked assiduously and largely successfully to sully the historical reputation of Richard III.

"One hundred and seventy-nine miles downstream from Lee's Ferry, directly below the Toroweap Overlook, the greatest river in the West runs up against a picket line of submerged boulders, roars over the edge, and detonates. This is Lava Falls, a quarter-mile stretch of white water that is considered by many to be the biggest navigable rapid in North America."

(page 133)

Book review, Title The Emerald Mile, Author Kevin Fedarko, Rating 4.0,

The Emerald Mile Kevin Fedarko Book review

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This is the epic story of the fastest boat ride in history (at the time) through the heart of the Grand Canyon on the Colorado river. With a gigantic release of water from the Glen Canyon Dam, the Colorado River was closed. So Kenton Grua evaded park rangers and launched his wooden dory, the Emerald Mile and barely completed his historical run. The story is very well told, and includes a solid history of the formation of the Grand Canyon, and the first efforts to navigate the river by John Wesley Powell.

In the spring of 1983, massive flooding along the length of the Colorado River confronted a team of engineers at the Glen Canyon Dam with an unprecedented emergency that may have resulted in the most catastrophic dam failure in history. Engineers were forced to periodically close the Colorado downstream of the dam so they could release large amounts of water as part of an effort to repair the dam.

Grua, a professional guide, saw his chance. The Emerald Mile, at one time slated to be destroyed, was rescued and brought back to life by Grua, who intended to use this flood as a kind of hydraulic sling-shot. The goal was to nail the all-time record for the fastest boat ever propelled down the entire length of the Colorado River from Lee’s Ferry to Lake Mead. He copmpleted the trip, but was very fortunate he wasn’t killed.

My brother Craig is an inveterate river rafter, who invites me along on some of his river adventures with he and his friends. He has rafted the Colorado twice. On the second occasion I was invited. I read this book, among others, in anticipation and in preparation for the trip. But I had a nasty bicycle accident a few weeks before the trip, and was unable to participate. The trip, by all accounts, was amazing.

Craig on a beautiful evening in the Canyon. Attrib: Connelly Woody, .  Click image to enlarge.

 

 

Encounters With The Archdruid, by John McPhee

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Beyond The Hundredth Meridian, by Wallace Stegner

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The Man Who Walked Through Time, by Colin Fletcher

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Carving Grand Canyon, by Wayne Ranney

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Ted Withycombe basic training portrait. Blake Chelmsford.  Click image to enlarge.

 

I just read today that my old Army buddy Ted Withycombe died last November in 2017. Ted and I had not kept in touch after our Army service, so it was a spur-of-the-moment Internet search that found his obituary. It brought back some old memories of my friendship with Ted, particularly the bicycle trips we made in Europe together. My sincere condolences to his family and friends.

 

Against Our Will, by Susan Brownmiller

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Ted and I were billeted together on the Husterhöh Kaserne for the last six months of my Army service in Pirmasens, Germany, but we had become friends prior to that, finding common interest in reading, primarily history and literature. When I first met Ted, he was reading Susan Brownmiller’s recently published Against Our Will: Men, Women and Rape. Ted felt it was an important book, and talked about it passionately. It was my first introduction to feminist literature; I would venture to guess that Ted was the only person in our unit who was even aware at that time of such writings. We would share our readings with other bibliophiles, like David Ball and Jim Carnoway. Ted was on the quiet side, and tended to be serious and earnest about his reading, but had a stealthy sense of humor, wry and sardonic.

Ted and I liked regular exercise; we became running partners for a while, and played pickup soccer together with other soldiers. We once attended an epic professional soccer game between the local FK Pirmasens side and the mighty FC Bayern München. We even ran stairs together as I was training for the ski trip I planned to take immediately following my discharge from the military.

Many of the GI’s in our unit stayed close to our base, travelling more occasionally, spending more of their leisure time at the enlisted men’s club, the Rod and Gun club, drinking in local Gasthäuser or partying in the barracks. On the other end of the spectrum, some of us traveled extensively, happy to take advantage of our European locale. Ted, David and I numbered among the travelers; Jim never traveled, to my disappointment. Jim was one of the last of the draftees, and had been drafted after completing a college education in Art History. Several of us tried to coax him into weekend day trips, because his knowledge of art and cultural history was a treasure trove – he would have made an invaluable and entertaining traveling companion. But he was immovable, saving his money for goals beyond his military service.

For myself, I traveled regularly, often with friends I had made on other Army bases. David Ball and I once made a whirlwhind 3-day trip to Northern Italy in my beat-up Volkswagen Bug. Ted traveled a good deal, also, but often traveled on his own. He and I did take a day trip to Heidelberg together via the train, which I wrote about here. But the majority of our travel together was via bicycle rides in the surrounding area. We both thought one of the best ways of exploring the local region was on our bikes. We would try to read some of the history of the area we were to ride through; Ted was usually more thorough, and thus more knowledgeable, and would often assume the role of tourist guide.

 

Both of us had purchased cheap Peugeot 10-speed bicycles from the PX, with leather cages on the foot-pedals, which could be tightened down to keep the feet from slipping off of the pedals, and untightened quickly when we had to stop. These bicycles were relatively sturdy, but had cottered crankshafts, a design wherein the pedal arms were attached to the crankshaft with a wedged cotter key. Under the pressure of heavy pedaling, these wedges would wear and loosen, so we carried both a wrench to re-tighten them, and spare cotter keys to replace those overly worn. To replace them required first a hammer to remove them, which we did not carry because of excess weight, so we would stop at a farmhouse and ask to borrow a hammer. (“Darf ich mir bitte einen Hammer ausleihen, um mein Fahrrad zu reparieren?” “May I borrow a hammer to repair my bicycle?” My German was serviceable for travel and simple conversation, but my French, not so much: The question “Avez-vous un marteau?” “Do you have a hammer?”, when followed by a beseeching look and a shake of the wobbly pedal worked just as well. We were never refused, to the credit of our newly-found friends.)

Together on our bikes, we began to explore the area within and around Pirmasens. To ride in this part of the Rheinland-Pfalz was to encounter hill after hill. The Husterhöh Kaserne sat at the top of a 500 ft high hill (“Huster Heights”), so any departure required a brisk climb to return home. Ted often lead up the longer hills, but otherwise we both rode at a similar pace, and found each other’s company enjoyable. So we planned and executed some longer rides, some of which are still vivid in my memory.

Our first and second long rides together were across the border into France. Pirmasens is situated within 15 kilometers of the border between Germany and France. We were in fact within the Grenzzone, the border zone that was patrolled by the Grenzpolizei, the border police, who had extraordinary powers, as a few GI’s drunk and a little surly on a Saturday night in town found to their regret. Both of us had read a certain amount of European history, in particular the history of World War II, and were aware that these opposing border zones we were living in and riding through were the locale of la Ligne Maginot (The French Maginot Line) and der Westwall (The German Siegfried Line), heavily fortified and interconnected forts that were positioned across from each other along the border of Alsace and Lorraine, built between the world wars. Our own base, die Husterhöh Kaserne, was connected into the Westwall fortifications via tunnels and underground storage facilities. The U.S. Army moved out of the Kaserne in the mid-90’s, but today still stores medical equipment in those Westwall underground storage facilities.

Our first long ride was in the spring of 1975, a day trip from Pirmasens to Bitche, France und zurück. (“and back.” This phrase was well-known to any GI’s who used the trains for travel. To buy a one-way ticket, the phrase was “Bitte, ich möchte eine einfache Fahrkarte nach Kaiserlautern.” “Please, I would like a one-way (simple) ticket to Kaiserslautern.” More typically, we bought return tickets, so the phrase became “”Bitte, ich möchte eine Fahrkarte nach Kaiserlautern und zurück.”)

Ligne Maginot Ouvrage Simserhof. Attrib: Franconia, CC BY-SA 3.0.

 

In the vicinity of Bitche was le Gross Ouvrage Simserhof, a large fort in the Maginot Line system, a portion of which was open to the public and maintained as a museum, which we intended to visit. In those days before the Internet, credit cards, etc., travel was a bit more blind. We really had no idea how difficult the terrain was going to be when we rode a new route, having no access to topographical maps. We started out early, each wearing a backpack to carry food and drink, and in a couple of hours and 20 miles later, riding through the usual hilly countryside, we arrived in Bitche. We lunched at a cheap cafe, drank some local Pinot Noir wine, and spent a few hours underground in the immense Maginot Line fort. Each of the forts in this system were complete underground cities, with small-gauge rail systems to connect the smaller and larger facilities and forts. We were both blown away by the size and scope of the defenses, famously ignored (mostly) by the Germans, who made an end-run around them through Belgium into France in 1940 to occupy France, and drove British troops back to England. The return ride felt arduous, but we were young and recovered quickly.

Finding this trip together a success, we planned another day trip later that spring to Wissembourg, France, at 27 miles each way a longer ride into similar Alsatian wine territory, and also on the old Maginot Line. Ted as usual led the way up the longer hills, waiting for me at the top, and we arrived eager to eat, drink and explore. We checked out another Maginot line fort, and found the city charming and the food and wine good, even though we bought only the least expensive fare. Our ride back was not easy, but neither of us were deterred by the amount of energy we expended.

Flush with the success of two bicycle adventures, we planned a three day bike ride during the 4th of July extended weekend through three countries: Germany, Luxembourg and France. Neither of us had ever ridden more than a day at a time, or farther than maybe 60 miles round trip. All in all, we would be riding around 230 miles in 3 days, for us a very ambitious undertaking! Probably the biggest unknown was just how hilly these rides were going to be – recently I determined that we climbed over 13,000 feet in those three days, not much for a Tour de France rider, but an ongoing and perpetually surprising challenge for us at the time. We planned to ride our first one day 100 mile ride, from Pirmasens to Luxembourg City, sleep outdoors, ride from there to Metz, France and again sleep outdoors, then ride back to Pirmasens for the last leg. We would ride with the usual backpack and additionally with a light sleeping bag slung below the backpack. We planned, that is hoped, for good weather, and had enough money for cheap food, and maybe enough for a night’s cheap lodging in the event of rain, or, alternatively, enough for train fare back. To say that we planned the trip is an overstatement. We had few resources for any unforseen circumstances, perhaps as it should be for a couple of twenty-something soldiers.

Saar Loop, viewed from above Keuchingen. Attrib: Franzfoto, CC BY-SA 3.0.

 

Around 7:00 am on a pleasant Friday, July 4, 1975, we rolled down the hill towards Petersberg, and on to our first intermediate target Saarbrücken, some 44 miles distant. Reaching Saarbrücken meant reaching the Saar river valley. We rode north on the east bank of the Saar for another 30 miles, before crossing the river at Mettlach. Most of this first 2/3 of the ride were verdant rolling hills, some of it so rural that we could ride side-by-side and converse. We stopped a couple of times at a Gasthaus along the way, to refill our water bottles, eat some food, and restore ourselves. We hit the first steep hill just short of Mettlach, 70 miles into the ride, an 8% half-mile beast. Going over the top of this, with Mettlach in sight below us on the Saar river, we were really feeling the effort, and promised ourselves a late-afternoon stop at a Gasthaus for another rest and for the first time in the day, a beer, before our final 30 mile push into Luxembourg City. We flew down the hill and through Mettlach, but saw no Gasthäuser on our path, crossed the river into Keuchingen, and were immediately climbing up what turned out to be a 2 mile hill with 6% gradient! About a mile into the hill, disappointed that we hadn’t found a rest place and seeing nothing but hill in front of us, we stopped by the side of the road, temporarily deflated. After a few minutes of catching our breath, and looking down on the horseshoe bend of the Saar river Loop, we remounted our bikes and slowly completed the climb, having no other option but to press on. Within 10 more tough miles we began a descent from the hills into the Moselle river valley, which forms the border between Germany and Luxembourg at Remich.

American Cemetery, Luxembourg City. PD-USGOV.

 

It was now nearly 7:00pm, and we only had 11 miles left to Luxembourg City. But we now had a better understanding of our route: Each time we crossed in and out of a river valley, we would have considerable climbs through the hills that formed those valleys. Our last 11 miles were mostly uphill climbing out of the Moselle valley, and our endurance was nearly used up. On our way through the outskirts of Luxembourg City we passed the American Cemetery and Memorial, where the Battle of the Bulge dead were buried, along with General Patton, who died just after the war while serving in the occupation force. We arrived in the city center around 8:00pm, 13 hours after we started, grimy and pooped but proud that we had ridden the longest ride of our lives. We found well-maintained public shower facilities which provided private showers, clean towels and soap for a nominal fee, happily cleaned up, and spirits restored, then found a local restaurant and consumed some local cuisine and beer. When you feel famished, everything tastes great! We still had an hour of daylight to find a suitable camping place, and ended up riding back towards the American Cemetery, where in the woods nearby we locked up our bikes, threw our sleeping bags on the ground, and slept the sleep of the near dead.

Oriental plane trees shading a French road. Attrib: Max Pixel, CC0.

 

The next morning we arose to a cloudy sky, packed our things, and plotted the day’s events. We decided that, since our second day’s target city, Metz, France, was only 45 miles away and our path stayed near the Moselle river, making it likely fairly flat, we would have time to first tour the American Cemetery before departing. We walked quietly among the graves of those American servicemen who fought in the Ardennes forest in the winter of 1944-1945, most of them young men around our age, and paused at General Patton’s memorial. Riding back into Luxembourg City, we stopped at a bakery for some pastries, filled up our water bottles, and rode at a more leisurely pace across the Petrusse river via the Adolphe bridge. We both enjoyed the beauty of Luxembourg, with its deep gorges and many medieval structures. Heading south, we rode through the Moselle valley into France, often shaded by large plane trees lining rural sections of the road. The flat terrain was a relief after the challenging roads of the day before.

Metz, France, Porte des Allemands (the German gate), from 1230 CE. Attrib: Marc Ryckaert, CC BY 3.0.

 

We arrived in Metz later in the afternoon, locked up our bikes, cleaned up again in similar public showers, and toured the city on foot for several hours, with Ted serving as an ad hoc tour guide. Metz was an important city on and off for over 2,000 years, first as a Celtic fort, then as a principal town of Gaul under the Romans, then as a principal city of the Merovingians, and later, Austrasia, the predecessor region to Alsace-Lorraine formed after the death of Charlemagne. There was little to see from these times, but much from later medieval times, with fortifications and crenellated towers, and beautiful churches, particularly the 13th century Gothic St. Stephen’s Cathedral. There was architectural evidence of the 1st German occupation of Alsace-Lorraine in 1871, including a major Protestant Church, Le Temple Neuf, the new temple, built on an island in the river Moselle.

Metz, France, street cafe. Attrib: Nicola, CC BY 2.0.

 

We relaxed in the Parc de l’esplanade until it began to sprinkle rain, so we found a comfortable Brasserie for dinner and beer, and hoped that the rain would not persist. But it continued to rain sporadically, so we faced a choice: With no tents, should we get a room for the night? After much debate, we decided to sleep under a bridge, and it worked out OK: We stayed dry and slept well, and in the morning were fortunate to find the weather cloudy but dry. We prepared for our last days’s ride of maybe 80 miles back to Pirmasens, stopping first for a breakfast and for water, and off we went.

Sarreguemines, France. Attrib: atreyu, CC BY-SA 4.0.

 

The last day proved to be almost as hard as the first, as it was very hilly, with a lot of medium climbs, the result of the fact that we ended up crossing into and out of six river valleys: Starting in the Moselle valley, we traversed the Nied francaise, Nied allemande, our old friend the Saar, the Blies and finally the Horn valleys. The countryside was beautiful and green, with many farms and some vineyards, and, as was typical of our entire ride, villages every few miles. In the southern Saar valley we took respite in Sarreguemines in a local bistro, now 50 miles into the ride. Shortly thereafter we crossed the border into Germany. The ride never got easy, so we finally decided to press on to Pirmasens before we fell off of our bikes, loading up drinking water and candy bars to consume on the bike. Ted suggested that we reward ourselves with steak and eggs at a restaurant near the Kaserne, and the anticipation of that meal drove me all the way up the final climb back into Pirmasens, for the first time from the southwest. Without any clean-up, we dragged ourselves into the local, where we found some of our friends, and over steak and eggs, additional portions of pommes frites (french fries) and of course, beer, we regaled them with tales of our adventures as we slowly restored some strength back into our tired bodies. We were sore for a few days afterwards, but no regrets: What a ride!

Early that autumn Ted and I rode the last of our bigger rides together. On a nice autumn day, we rode from Pirmasens up to the Vogelweh Kaserne in Kaiserslautern, around 20 miles, to meet some friends. We ended up playing soccer with them for a couple of hours, with no thought to the energy needed to ride back home. We finally departed back to Pirmasens, finishing up the long hill from Rodalben to the Kaserne, for the first time Ted following rather than leading me up the hill. All the expenditure of energy was worth it, though!

I was fortunate to find in Ted a friend who was willing to explore our corner of Europe together, particularly using a mode of transportation that required so much exertion. God speed, Ted.

Attrib: modified, PD-US.

 

Astronomy before Copernicus

" The sky turns day to night with a sunset, measures the passing months by the phases of the moon, and marks each season’s change with a solstice or an equinox. The rotating, revolving Earth is a cog in a clockwork universe, and people have told time by its motion since time began. "

-Longitude, by Dava Sobel, p. 21

Andreas Cellarius, Harmonia macrocosmica, 1661, plate 3 - orbium planetarum. PD-US.  Click image to enlarge.

 

The stars could only be viewed with a naked eye, and at such resolution, the stars relationship to each other, the distance between one star and another, did not vary. There was no observed parallax, or apparent shift of position of any one star against the background of other stars. As a consequence, Aristotle’s explanatory physical model of the heavens, a cosmology, described all of the stars as being the final background itself, very far away and equidistant from the earth, embedded in a “crystalline” shell or sphere, which rotated daily around the earth, producing the observed movement of the stars.  The planets, on the other hand, appeared to wander through the background of the stars relatively independent of each other, as did the Sun and Moon.  

Since there was little change observed over thousands of years in the heavens beyond the earth, the moon and beyond were considered immutable, the occasional supernova or comet aside, and because they could not be directly sampled, were considered to be incorruptible. Aristotle’s model had heavenly bodies moving in circles, and made of a unblemished substance.  The planets, Sun and Moon were accorded their own crystalline spheres in which they were embedded.  The universe was spherical,  and each of these shells were concentrically situated around the spherical earth, like a Russian babushka doll, one inside the other, rotating at different rates relative to each other. The Moon was embedded in the first sphere around the Earth, Mercury embedded in the sphere around the Moon, the next sphere containing Venus, followed by a sphere containing the Sun. The rest of the known planets followed: Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, with the final sphere those of the fixed stars. 

Ptolemy’s astronomical synthesis a few hundred years later provided a geometrical model that could predict the motions of the Sun, Moon, and the known planets close to the limits of observations by the naked eye. It was a complex model, not in complete accord with Aristotle’s cosmology, and involved the artificial use of circles within circles to describe planetary retrograde motion, which is the apparent slowing and reversing of motion of the planets at different times in their nighttime movement through the background of fixed stars.

Copernicus creates a new model of the solar system

Copernicus, 1580. PD-US.

 

Aristotle’s cosmology and Ptolemy’s geometrical model were refined by the Arabs and then by medieval Europe, but retained their essential character until Copernicus, frustrated with certain inaccuracies in the Ptolemaic computations and inspired by Pythagoras and Plato to seek a simpler model, redrew the cosmological and astronomical models by placing the Sun into the center, with the Earth and the planets revolving around the Sun and the Moon revolving around the Earth, usually referred to as the heliocentric theory of the solar system. This stimulated some interest among astronomers, as Copernicus’s resulting mathematical model was perhaps a little simpler, but continued to use circles within circles to account for retrograde motion, and did not significantly increase the accuracy of astronomical computations. The cosmological structure drew more interest, even among churchmen, but was not compelling: No new evidence supported one model over the other. In some ways, the ancient model was more intuitively obvious, one which aligned more directly with what could be observed by carefully gazing at the heavens:  the Sun clearly moved across the sky each day, a rotating Earth might throw people off of it’s surface, and so on.

Change was nonetheless afoot.  Tyco Brahe refined his technique and instrumentation to improve the accuracy of naked eye observation, and in the course of his life of observation, made careful note of supernovas and comets, bringing more attention to change observed in the heavens, contrary to the Aristotelian idea of immutability. Kepler, using Brahe’s more accurate observations, divined a much more accurate astronomical model for planetary motion, adopting Copernicus’ heliocentric model, and adopted the use of ellipses rather than circles to both greatly simplify the model of planetary motion, and to significantly improve the accurate prediction of the motions of the planets.

Galileo points a telescope to the heavens

But it was Galileo, the first great mathematical scientist, an astute observer and a careful experimentalist, who thrust astronomy most firmly in its modern direction.  He began by building himself a telescope, recently invented by Dutch lensmakers, and directing it to the heavens.  What he saw was world-changing.  He saw much more evidence of change and “imperfection” in the heavens, and evidence of planetary behavior that could only be explained from a Copernican or heliocentric point of view.  

In 1610, Galileo trained his telescope on the surface of the Moon, a heavenly body considered without blemish, perfectly spherical, and he saw its more earth-like imperfections: He saw craters and mountains on the Moon!  When he looked closer at the Milky Way, he saw an enormous number of stars that had never been observed before.  When he observed the surface of the Sun, he observed dark imperfections (sunspots), which rotated to different positions over time, indicating also that the Sun rotated on its axis, something that the Copernican system also required the Earth to do.  

Expected phases of Venus, Copernicus v. Ptolemy . UT Knoxville.

 

Observing Venus, he noted over time that Venus showed a complete set of phases similar to the Moon, which he noted could only happen if Venus revolved around the Sun.  If the Sun was always farther away from the Earth and Venus, as the Ptolemaic system postulated, Venus would almost always be observed in a crescent phase.  This was the first empirical evidence that conclusively demonstrated that the Ptolemaic system was incorrect and the heliocentric theory correct. 

The moons of Jupiter

Galileo's observations of the Medician stars aka Moons of Jupiter, adapted from Sidereus Nuncius. Attrib: NASA, PD-USGOV.

 

Observing Jupiter, he saw four little points of light in close proximity to the planet, each day in a different position, sometimes seeing only three or two.  He surmised that these were moons revolving around Jupiter, sometimes obscured by going behind or across the front of the planet.  Galileo recorded the positions of the moons carefully, and found that the motions of these new satellites were highly predictable, as if they were moving steadily around Jupiter. The moons of Jupiter added additional evidence of other heavenly bodies inside of the celestial sphere, and indirectly supported Copernicus’s contention that the Moon was a satellite orbiting about the Earth, further contradicting the Ptolemaic system.  Galileo recognized that beyond the physics and cosmology, there were very practical possibilities in these moons.

Unlocking longitude

Book review, Title Longitude, Author Dava Sobel, Rating 4.0,

Longitude Dava Sobel Book review

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I originally read this, mostly on a transcontinental plane trip, just prior to visiting the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, to answer the question: Why does an accurate clock allow you to reckon longitude at sea? I recently re-read it to absorb the role Galileo played in the the use of the periods of Jovian moons as another method to determine longitude for the purposes of navigation.

Ancient geographical maps have a common trait to the modern reader:  They all look misshapen, with lands and seas in correct positions relative to each other, but both land and seas are often grossly distorted from their actual size and shape on the surface of the Earth.  The distortion is most pronounced in the east-west direction, because the determination of longitude, which represents the east-west geographical coordinate of a position, was an insoluble conondrum during ancient times, up to Galileo’s age.  From ancient times, various methods were used to determine latitude by celestial navigation.  As maps came into more general use, these methods were employed to mark latitude, but longitude measurement required an accurate means to tell time, which was not readily available.

1594 map of the world. PD-US.  Click image to enlarge.

 

Discovering the finite velocity of light

The speed of light was considered, prior to 1676, to be practically instantaneous.  But the Danish astronomer Ole Roemer, working to extend the accuracy of this method of measuring longitude, noticed that  "the eclipses of all four Jovian satellites would occur ahead of schedule when the Earth came closest to Jupiter in its orbit around the sun. Similarly, the eclipses fell behind the predicted schedules by several minutes when the Earth moved farthest from Jupiter. Roemer concluded, correctly, that the explanation lay in the velocity of light. The eclipses surely occurred with sidereal regularity, as astronomers claimed. But the time that those eclipses could be observed on Earth depended on the distance that the light from Jupiter’s moons had to travel across space. Until this realization, light was thought to get from place to place in a twinkling, with no finite velocity that could be measured by man. Roemer now recognized that earlier attempts to clock the speed of light had failed because the distances tested were too short. Galileo, for example, had tried in vain to time a light signal traveling from a lantern on one Italian hilltop to an observer on another. He never detected any difference in speed, no matter how far apart the hills he and his assistants climbed. But in Roemer’s present, albeit inadvertent, experiment, Earthbound astronomers were watching for the light of a moon to reemerge from the shadow of another world. Across these immense interplanetary distances, significant differences in the arrival times of light signals showed up. Roemer used the departures from predicted eclipse times to measure the speed of light for the first time in 1676. (He slightly underestimated the accepted modern value of 300,000 kilometers per second.) "(Longitude, by Dava Sobel, p. 29-30) 

This astronomical story of the moons of Jupiter was spun up from the simple strands of thin beams of light, which streamed from the heavens into the eyes of meticulous observers, for the first time through a slightly magnified tube, and added to a fabric of logical inferences to form a viable model of our solar system.  The current model into which it grew is real in the following sense: Immensely more powerful telescopes have since been trained on the Sun, the Moon and the planets, satellites have been dispatched to the planets for close observation, and humans have orbited and landed on the Moon, observing the spherical home planet of Earth from its surface, validating the details of a central Sun with planets moving around it in precise orbits, and moons circling these planets in similar fashion.

Book review, Title Relativity: A Graphic Guide, Author Bruce Bassett, Rating 3.0,

Relativity: A Graphic Guide Bruce Bassett Book review

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This book summarizes Einstein's special and general theory of relativity using cartoon drawings to illustrate every concept. It does not shy away from physical formulae, neither does it provide in depth discussion of same.

My own physics background included the special theory of relativity, and so the explanations were familiar ones, and just OK. I never attempted the general theory, as the mathematics and the physics were too daunting, but was familiar with the consequences, history and major tests of the general theory, which this book covered.

Overall, the subject is simply too dense for anyone not on the proper physical and mathematical footing, but the book does a decent job of explaining some of the concepts of Riemannian geometry, the curvature of space, the important observations, basic conondrums and current models of modern astrophysics, the successful applications of the general theory in addressing some of those, and where the general theory either falls short or is as yet untestable.

It is OK as a 50,000 foot view of, for a non-physicist, an otherwise unapproachable subject.

"A gas is a chaotic assembly of molecules, chaotic in spatial distribution and chaotic in the distribution of molecular speeds. Each speed corresponds to a certain kinetic energy."

(page 18)

Book review, Title The Laws of Thermodynamics: A Very Short Introduction, Author Peter Atkins, Rating 3.0,

The Laws of Thermodynamics: A Very Short Introduction Peter Atkins Book review

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Peter Atkins, a bona fide chemistry professor, takes a shot at summarizing the Laws of Thermodynamics, particularly the 2nd Law, for the million. He claims that when he is done explaining, you will understand how all change of any kind occurs, why death itself must come, even how the unfolding of the very thoughts you are employing to read his book is a consequence of the 2nd Law. Alas his explanations fall short of such a lofty goal.

In addition to his ambitious promises to enlighten, Atkins quotes C.P. Snow as saying that not knowing the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics is the same as not having read Shakespeare (note 1); you are culturally backward if you don’t take a crack at his book.

Unfortunately, he could not resist the formalism of the subject. This book would effectively serve those beginning formal university training in chemistry or physics.

For the curious but untrained? Not so much. The explanation is mediocre; it certainly did not approach the level of enlightenment the author promised. There are better and more succinct explanations elsewhere.

Notes

 

The Two Cultures, by C.P. Snow

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1. C.P. Snow, in his Two Cultures, talked about the widening gap between the culture of science and the culture of the humanities. He said of those in the humanities: "I have asked how many could describe the Second Law of Thermodynamics. The response was cold: it was also negative. Yet I was asking something which is about the scientific equivalent of: Have you read a work of Shakespeare's?" (page 15) He followed immediately with: "I now believe that if I had asked an even simpler question—such as, What do you mean by mass, or acceleration, which is the scientific equivalent of saying, Can you read? - not more than one in ten of the highly educated would have felt that I was speaking the same language. So the great edifice of modern physics goes up, and the majority of the cleverest people in the western world have about as much insight into it as their neolithic ancestors would have had." (page 15)

"Once a game-changing technology is unleashed on the world, it is impossible to contain it. ... Few technologies are inherently good or bad; what matters is how we use them. ... The power to control our species’ genetic future is awesome and terrifying."

(pages 239-240)

Book review, Title A Crack In Creation, Author Jennifer Doudna, Samuel Sternberg, Rating 4.5, Pandora has many boxes

A Crack In Creation Jennifer Doudna, Samuel Sternberg Book review

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The ability to directly and much more easily modify the genome of any living organism, via somatic or germline modification, has become a reality via CRISPR-Cas9 techniques. Chinese scientist He Jiankui recently claimed to have opened yet another of Pandora's seemingly endless set of boxes: Germline gene editing. Jennifer Doudna's recent book A Crack in Creation, a must-read, warns about premature application of CRISPR-Cas9.

This is a scenario right out of Huxley’s Brave New World; it has received almost universal approbation by the scientific community. The Chinese government responded by saying, ‘“The genetically edited infant incident reported by media blatantly violated China’s relevant laws and regulations. It has also violated the ethical bottom line that the academic community adheres to. It is shocking and unacceptable.”

PD-US.

 

How should these these powerful new gene editing techniques be utilized, if at all? Jennirer Doudna has led the early effort to employ CRISPR-Cas9 as a gene modification tool, and her book addresses the complexities of these new tools and surrounding ethical and utilitarian question. Her book provides a thorough and able discussion of the underlying molecular genetics, and describes how previous research and clinical approaches to gene therapy are being rapidly augmented or eclipsed by the new gene editing techniques based on CRISPR-Cas9 due to its generality, ease of use and significantly lower costs in both time and money. The author lays out the new kinds of research and clinical approaches to the curing of disease now possible and even already underway; the increased range of improvement of the food supply via these enhanced GM methods; the current unreliability of some of the clinical applications; and the huge potential risks and rewards, including the complete repair of many genetically based diseases, the threat of weaponization, unequal societal applications, and the possible eugenical abuse at a governmental level.

The author closes with the observation that emergent technologies, once invented, have never been subsequently suppressed, and follows this with a sober and thoughtful discussion of the political and ethical challenges that face humankind, now that it is out of the box: How do we take advantage of gene editing’s constructive possibilities while suppressing its equally potent destructive potential? He Jiankui violated laws and norms, particularly in using a technology not safe enough yet for use in humans, without the public debate and understanding necessary for such an act. Doudna calls for open discussion and careful development of this new technology to maximize its potential for good while minimizing its potential for harm. If you are interested in this new technology, its enormous promise and power, and the potential consequences, good and bad, this book is must read.

"Isaac didn't mind living alone. Loneliness only sank in when he was around people."

(page 34)

Book review, Title Inhabited, Author Charlie Quimby, Rating 4.0, Persistent kindness

Inhabited Charlie Quimby Book review

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Inhabited, Charlie Quimby's follow-up novel to his excellent Monument Road, focuses on life as a homeless person in a small city in western Colorado. This story is both edifying and compelling because he draws sympathetic and realistic characters, not just of those who migrate uncertainly from one temporary abode to another, but of those inhabitants who try to help the homeless and those who oppose such help, which can even be the same person under differing circumstances.

This is a tale of uncertain and often frayed relationships between mentally fragile and wounded people; between them and their families; between them and the rest of the townspeople; between them and the business interests; between them and local government, itself which is pulled by the requirements of public safety, the ongoing development and livability of the town, and the protection of the homeless themselves. Quimby resists the temptation to over-dramatize and probes the difficulties of balancing these various interests.

It felt to me that placing this tale in a small town exposes the various communal struggles with homelessness more acutely than in a large and swirling city. The author is particularly acute in recognizing that many homeless people have serious behavioral issues which makes it difficult for them to cope, or live within an environment structured to assist them; that those who fear the homeless often have some reason to do so; that those who help the homeless don’t always have the purest of motives; and so on.

Quimby loves his environment and his characters, flaws and all. Their story suggests that persistent kindness can still provide some help for those struggling on the street, and that the battle should not be abandoned even though the problems sometimes can seem intractable.

Reading has been in my own life a regular feature, even an addiction. So much beyond the immediate and the local becomes accessible. Reading has been in some ways for me a trusted companion.

Recently the PBS series The Great American Read came to my attention. My wife Cindy and I followed with it with great eagerness. The series started by polling readers for their favorite novels, then identified the 100 most popular, and followed with a series of themed episodes featuring various celebrities, educators and critics discussing these books and encouraging viewers to pick them up and read them. Their enthusiasm and gentle prodding to read, to explore experiences other than one’s own was wonderful to see and hear.

The Great American Read list was not the list I would have personally made, of course, as it was unlikely anybody’s list, but most of the books were worthy of anyone’s consideration. I was happy to see books that were typically assigned for junior high and high school reading; some I had read in my own schooling. There were a number of pre-20th and 20th century classics of literature, along with some science fiction and fantasy classics. There was some young adult fiction, and some excellent contemporary 21st century novels.

Books representative of the large U.S. Evangelical population unsurprisingly found their way onto the list, like The Shack, the Left Behind Rapture porn series, and the plutocratic capitalist novel Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, although the latter’s ideology would seem deeply antithetical to Evangelical beliefs.

The list also served as a an obvious stimulus for new books to read, and for conversations with other book readers, which in turn provided more stimulus for new books to read. On a recent raft trip populated primarily by educators, I asked the English teachers which novels they teach now, and was pointed both to a few of the books on the list, and others that were new to me.

Briefly noted, Title I, Alex Cross, Author James Patterson, Rating 3.0,

I, Alex Cross James Patterson Briefly noted

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Perhaps the biggest surprise on the Great American Read list was one of the many novels by James Patterson, king of airport throwaway fiction: I, Alex Cross. I decided to read this book as a last summer read fling. It was a quick read, despite its 500 page length, chopped up into 100 5 page chapters, each designed to lead you to the next, with mini-cliff-hangers galore. The story was over-the-top suspense detective fare, but not excessively so; the main story was one of caring for an ailing grandmother juxtaposed with searching for a violent killer, with plenty of gore along the way. All in all, one James Patterson novel is was sufficient for me to appreciate the appeal and to tire of the genre.

"My only advantage as a reporter is that I am so physically small, so temperamentally unobtrusive, and so neurotically inarticulate that people tend to forget that my presence runs counter to their best interests. And it always does. That is one last thing to remember: writers are always selling somebody out."

(page iii)

Book review, Title Slouching Towards Bethlehem, Author Joan Didion, Rating 3.0, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun

Slouching Towards Bethlehem Joan Didion Book review

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Joan Didion's set of personal essays from the mid-60's, an exercise in the emerging New Journalism and most in the first person, are episodically brilliant, but just as often facile and self-indulgent.

The best examples of New Journalism demonstrated that a truthful narrative can be constructed by mixing the subjective with the objective, by mixing the very personal with the factual. Tom Wolfe’s and Hunter S. Thompson’s best work in this genre produced genuine insights, and with Wolfe especially, showed more depth and balance than the writer’s tone might otherwise have led one to expect.

Unfortunately, Didion struggles in these essays to strike a similar balance, and disappoints with too little love for the integrity of the subject. There is a pervading sense of disapproval and lack of sympathy for the people and events she reports on, as well as a sense of condescension and dismissal, with more than a whiff of Schadenfreude. Her multi-layered single sentence observations that seem at first perceptive often curdle into the shallow and mean; e.g. "This is the country in which a belief in the literal interpretation of Genesis has slipped imperceptibly into a belief in the literal interpretation of Double Indemnity, the country of the teased hair and the Capris and the girls for whom all life’s promise comes down to a waltz-length white wedding dress and the birth of a Kimberly or a Sherry or a Debbi and a Tijuana divorce and a return to hairdressers’ school." (page 5)

In the author’s title essay, Slouching towards Bethlehem, she ponderously alludes to Yeats’ poem The Second Coming (see below) with both her title and her first line: The center was not holding. The world is going to hell in a handbasket, you know. Why, just take a look at the pathetic lost world of San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury, populated by the drug-addled and sexually permissive hippies.

For every generous and probing observation, for every personal insight, and they can be found here, are also found narrow privileged viewpoints disguised as broad sociological and cultural observation. Perhaps seven years of writing for Vogue is not an ideal formative experience for echt New Journalism.

While some revelation was surely at hand, her gaze was too often blank and pitiless as the sun.

The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?