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Current Update (5/12/23)
I’m happy to report that life’s been good to me. I’ve been married to Lynn for 56 years, and we’ve lived within a mile of Northwestern University since coming here for grad school in 1971.
We had a boy and a girl, each of whom had a boy and a girl. Here we all are at the Chicago Planetarium on a cold and windy Christmas Eve day.
We’ve lived within a mile of Northwestern University since I got out of the Army in 1971. The Vietnam War changed the course of my life from aeronautical to biomedical engineering. After getting a PhD, I went to work at Abbott designing blood testing instruments. Three of us left Abbott and started Pandex, which made instruments for researchers. It was acquired by Baxter, who wanted to compete with Abbott, and set us to work on a blood donor screening system for the Red Cross. That ended up back at Abbott when they bought it from Baxter in 1992, at which point I left industry for academia.
At Northwestern, I started out teaching engineering design, biosensors and stats. Over time, I started up a research lab, published papers and trained grad students. In 2005, I received a grant from the Gates Foundation to start the Center for Innovation in Global Health Technologies, CIGHT, to design medical devices for resource-poor countries. That resulted in devices to test for TB and HIV, and a study abroad program at University of Cape Town to teach medical device design to undergraduates.
When Gates changed their funding strategy from academia to industry, I retired from Northwestern and started Minute Molecular to develop point-of-care diagnostic tests, which in turn, funded CIGHT. When the pandemic broke out in 2020, we converted our rapid PCR instrument to test for COVID. It was FDA approved in 2022 and is now in production. Minute Molecular was recently acquired by another startup, and I’m back at Northwestern teaching my class in Cape Town and designing affordable medical diagnostics.
I’m also, at last, finding time for golf, gardening and grandkids.
Previous Update:
Here’s my
story. It will begin it in the fall of ’59 when he was 15. I’m
writing it in third person because, thankfully, I haven’t been him
for decades and I might not have all my facts correct. You probably
didn’t know him as well as I, because most of the guys he hung out
with were in the class ahead of us (Mike Burdick, Mike O’Haver,
Roger Haniford), and his steady dates were mostly in the classes
behind us (Laurie Leitner, Lou Watkins). He wasn’t one of the cool
freshman (Becky Beck, Cindy Peyton, Charlie Dobson, Steve Johnson).
He wasn’t one of the geeks (Dan Cable, Steve Warren, Steve Isaacson)
or the brains (John King, Kay Kinnison, Russ Mills, Sayre Karling,
Kathy Dammon, Marylin Paradiso). He wasn’t as smart as his big
sister (Mary Ann) or the 3 WL grads who were feted by the principle
(Mr. Casson aka Chuckles) for leading Purdue to a string of 4 wins
in the GE College Bowl.
He thought he’d go out for football and be a jock since they had the
letter sweaters that seemed to get dates with cool girls. But he was
too slow for backfield, too clutsy for quarterback or end, and ended
up a lineman even though he didn’t weigh more than 140 lbs in full
pads. He was such an undersized speck that freshman coach (Mr.
Mihalko) would use him and another freshman lineman (Larry Parker)
as dummies to shame starters who’d missed blocks. By the fall of
‘62, he would bulk up to 160 lbs, but would never be as good as the
linemen on either side of him (Mark Moriarty, Rob Paarlberg) or even
his little brother (Cuffy). In the winter he went out for wrestling,
but in his first match in Kokomo, he was pinned by a wiry black kid
in 30 sec. and knew he’d never be in their league. In the spring, he
was in his element, golf, which he’d been playing since he was 9.
But he would never be as good as Mike Gery and Mike O’Haver, who won
the sectional for WL in the spring of ’62.
He was a spectator at the sporting event of the year when WL beat
Jeff in basketball (32-30) and watched terrified as bruisers from
Lafayette cruised the parking lot looking for fights.
One of his favorite classes was biology, mostly because the teacher
was a football coach (Mr. Bush). He was looking very nerdy in the
spring of ‘60 when he built a miniature moon colony to sustain the
lives of 2 mice (Pixie, Dixie) with oxygen from 60 gallons of algae.
Algebra class consumed a lot of his because the teacher (Mr. DeYoung)
had flunked a math-challenged blonde (Colleen McCarty), who got him
to do her homework with promises of a date.
In the summer of ’60 the promise was fulfilled with a double date in
Kenny Knaus’ Chevy convertible. It was a scene from “American
Graffiti” with the radio tuned to WLS (890 on dial in Chicago)
playing the Fleetwoods (“Come Softly to Me”). But with the debt
paid, the beautiful blonde dumped him. He spent the summer of ’60
helping Mike Burdick restore Harold Bonewits’ Model T Ford and
cruising Nancy’s Drive-In with the 16 year olds who could drive. The
new chemistry teacher who seemed to always be drinking coffee in the
corner booth (Mr. Guy) was the subject of countless adolescent jokes
(for which I am now terribly ashamed).
In the fall of ’60, his Father (Reed) told him Nixon lost to JFK
because Mayor Daley stuffed ballot boxes. He only knew that he liked
the younger one with the cool wife. The right-wingers (Bob Jones,
Dave Adams) rushed him for YAF (Young Americans for Freedom), but
there weren’t any female conservatives for Goldwater so he didn’t
pledge. The political story that divided his family in the spring of
’61 was the Freedom Riders. His Dad and the Indianapolis Star told
him they were communist agitators, his Mother (Sally) told him they
were idealists looking for justice. He sided with Mom.
There were important firsts in the 16 year old’s sophomore year: a
French kiss (Janice Moore), a drink of scotch whiskey (from the bar
in Bob McBee’s basement), and a drivers license. He attempted to
sign up for metal shop, but was told (Mr. Evans) that it was not
appropriate for someone going to college. He was able to talk his
way into mechanical drawing (Mr. Breckenridge), which was also in
the basement across the hall from the shops. He learned German by
reading X-rated magazines (Bunte) that the teacher (Herr Eddy) had
stashed in the boys-only corner. He really struggled with geometry,
but impressed the teacher (Mr. Tatlock) with his tenacity, taking 3
pages to prove a theorem that anyone with a brain could do in 5
lines. HIs little sister (Linda) reprised his method 3 years later.
At the end of his sophomore year, the golf coach (Dick Bossing) was
asked to supply caddies for the NCAA tournament being held at
Purdue. He drew the eventual winner (Jack Nicklaus), and saw up
close what it was like to play golf at that level. So much for his
dream of a career on the PGA tour. That summer, he took his first
road trip driving his Mon’s car (Chevy Monza) to a far western
suburb of Chicago to see Connie Cox, who had moved there from around
the corner on Sunset Lane. She showed his the sophisticated cultural
life of the big city (“Music Man” at the Hinsdale dinner theater).
But Meredith Willson was no match for the new DJ at WLS (Dick Biondi,
“On top of a pizza, all covered with cheese, …”) and theater in the
round wasn’t nearly as much fun as a drive-in movie in O’Haver’s ’55
Ford with a case of beer in the trunk.
In the fall of ’61, he started at left guard, wearing number 55
(after the Titleist 5s that Nicklaus played). They didn’t win many
games, loosing to Lebanon 55-0 and finished the season 2 – 7. But
that was good enough to get hot dates to after-game mixers with
freshmen and sophomores (Sue Slanec, Charlie Spurlock). In the
winter, he signed up for crew on the junior class play (“Inherit the
Wind”), which starred a 6 ft. transfer student (Don Paarlberg) as
Matthew Harrison Brady. He spent way more time spying on the
director (Mary Helen Kahn) to catch her taking a swig from the flask
in her purse than he did talking about the message of the play
(evolution vs. creationism). Backstage, he met my 1st love (Laurie
Leitner) whom he dated for all of 6 months.
His last date with Laurie was the Junior Prom (No. 41 Broadway),
which was a major production. The class (Kent Jacobs, Marilyn
Bottomley, Bob Steele, Susan Golding) turned the gym into New York
City (no “Enchantment Under The Sea” for the class of ’63). It took
an entire week to paint the store windows and skyline, assemble the
entrance building, and construct a free-standing semi-circular wall
across the entire width of the gym floor. He missed the final day of
construction to play golf in the sectionals, which they won. This
would have been the high point of his junior year, except his date
hooked up with her old boy friend (Jack King) at the after prom
party.
In the summer of ’62, he was sent with two others (Dan Cable, Bob
Lowell) to Boys’ State at IU, which turned out to be student council
elections on steroids and something he had no talent for. He was
rescued by 2 guys from Terre Haute Garfield who invited him to form
a trio to sing Kingston Trio songs on stage at the Brown County
Playhouse. “Maude’s Boys” were the hit of the show. A couple of
weeks later, he was back in Bloomington at the Journalism Institute
learning photojournalism in Ernie Pyle Hall. He came away with
layouts for the yearbook and the phone number of the editor of the
North Central High School newspaper whom he met when the boys
serenaded the girls’ dorm (“Goodnight, My Someone” from "The Music
Man").
By the fall ’62, he was sporting a letter sweater, yellow senior
cords and co-captain of the football team, but he’s still not one of
the in-crowd (Kent Jacobs, Bob Steele, Mitzie Shunk, Jeanne
Miller,…). It looked like it would be another loosing season after
they started 1 – 3, but they turned it around and won the last 5
games, including one where he scored a PAT after the 4th or 5th TD
on the way to trouncing Rensselaer 61 – 6. He could barely drag
himself onto the bus after last game (Indianapolis Sacred Heart)
where the defensive linemen (Mark Moriarty, Rob Paarlberg, Cuffy
Kelso, John Simms) won the day (12 - 6 ) with some help from the QB
(Steve Johnson). He was so focused finishing 6 – 3 that the Cuban
missile crisis came and went without notice. By the end of the
season he was dating his 2nd love (Lou Watkins), but they broke up
before she got his letter sweater. He thought he should date senior
girls, but that ended when he took one to the prom (Marilyn
Bottomley) and another (Lynn Taylor), the day after, to Chicago to
find “Green City” under Wacker Drive. He was back with Lou by
summer.
Looking back at that teenager, it’s good all of you were there when
he was discovering who he was and what was going to be. He could
have friends like you who were jocks or brains or cool or nerdy,
even though none of those roles seemed right for him in at the time.
15 - 18 were the most difficult years of my life; I’ve never been in
such a challenging environment (academic social, athletic). I had my
heart broken a few times, and probably broke 1 or 2 myself. As I
look back on it, there’s a lot I’d do differently, but for better or
worse, we only do it once. My principal regret is that I wasn’t a
better friend to those who offered me friendship.
Since the summer of ’63, I’ve grown up; there have been 4
universities (Purdue, Harvard, Michigan, Northwestern), 3 diplomas
(BS, MS,PhD), a 2-year Army stint, 1 wife (Lynn), 2 children (Reed,
Jeanne), 4 grandchildren (Summer, Grant, Declan, Cate), 20 years in
industry (Abbott, Pandex, Baxter), and 20 years in academia
(Northwestern). But that’s another story.
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