I graduated from Coe College in June, 1936, with a major in physical chemistry and a magna cum laude record; a memeber of Phi Kappa Phi, later Phi Beta Kappa.

Having no money, but wishing to go to grad school, I had applied for scholarships, but the only one that would pay any money to live on came from Lafayette, a good school in Easton, Pa. The pay was the interest on ten thousand dollars -- in other words, a princely one thousand dollars for the year -- along with a Master's degree.

Arriving at Easton in the Fall, I found a room in the house of a little old Pennsylvania Dutch lady, and a job stoking Professor Bingham's coal furnace. Binham, my research supervisor, was an authority on viscosity of liquids and a typical absent-minded professor, and I don't remember that he ever paid me.

My thesis research resulted in the surprise discovery of a simple equation describing the viscosity-temperature relations of several series of organic compounds, and publication of a technical paper that created a demand for over a hundred reprints.

Four interesting incidents occurred at Lafayette.

My landlady, whose interesting vocabulary included expressions such as "It's making down wet" for "It's raining", had a very smelly old tomcat that she loved like the child she never had. Unfortunately, the cat lived in my bedroom whenever I wasn't there. The stink finally motivated me to politely ask the lady if she'd please keep old smelly out of my room. She politely invited me to move out!

A friend and I often played pingpong at the college gym. One evening a pair of basketball players asked if they could cut in for a game. After they had played for a long time, I started paying attention, and found that they kept playing to eighteen, then starting over. I made a comment about the strange score keeping, so one of them threw down his paddle, jumped to a fighting stance, and said, "Wanna make something of it?" I picked up the paddle and said, "No, I want to play pingpong." After a lot of verbal sparring, we faced off. He charged. I waited till he started a haymaker, then hit him with a quick straight jab aimed at his jaw. I didn't think it had much power, but he did a spectacular sidewise dance across the gym, trying to keep his feet, till he bumped into the wall and slumped to the floor. The room was dead silent until his friends picked him up and took him out the door. My friend and I played another game, but my hand was hurting. Next morning, my left hand was X-rayed. The nurse told me I had a broken bone, and put the arm in a cast. Two days later, walking across campus, I saw my victim sporting a black eye.

I have mentioned that Professor Bingham was absentminded. Let me prove it. One example: he drove to a Chemical Society meeting in Pittsburgh, forgot he had driven and went home by train. Seeing that there was no car in his garage, he called the police and reported it stolen!

Another example: He took a sabbatical leave the second semester, and stayed with relatives in Philadelphia. I was invited to visit him there so he could review my thesis. He told me to meet him in New York in time for a certain train on a certain day; he would meet my train from Easton and we'd continue together to Philadelphia. The day before we were to meet, I checked at the Easton train station and there was no train scheduled for the time he had specified! Seeing no way to contact him in New York, I decided to take a train direct to Philadelphia. Lo and behold, he was there to meet me! Don't ask me how. We didn't discuss the subject.

This brings to mind the fourth event, which I had forgotten. A young professor and I made a date to meet in New York and spend a weekend sightseeing. Neither of us had been there. Stupidly, we agreed to meet at "the end of the George Washington Bridge," not even specifying which end. You guessed it -- we never found each other. I spent all my money in one day.