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in the field of machining metals, and the author of a book on the subject. He also worked with the automobile industry on methods of cutting such materials as high-strength steel and other metals to improve machinability and thereby improve efficiency in automobile production.
    He was, I believe, the first to imbed thermocouples in a tool on a lathe or milling machine to measure tool temperatures. He also worked on the design of tools to remove metal rapidly. Much later I was to apply his methods in the approach tomachining new metals, specifically, titanium and stainless steel.
    The two Timoshenko brothers, Russians, were professors of structure. The study of vibration and structure was very important, basic for me, in learning how to make aircraft wings and tails that wouldn’t flutter. That was a bugabear of a problem in those early days.
    There was Professor Milton Thompson in aeronautics, Professor Walter E. Lay for engines, others whose names escape me now, each an expert. This was heady stuff for the kid from Ishpeming who wanted to be like Tom Swift. It was an exciting adventure, associating with some of the best minds in every field important to a would-be engineer.
    Respectful though I was of the great experience and knowledge of my professors, I yet was not so deferential that I would not argue back if I disagreed. And I did.
    With Professor Pawlowski, who had given me a B grade on my computation of wind-tunnel tests on a little biplane—I didn’t like to get less than an A— I argued that my numbers were correct. I proved it, and he changed the grade to A. He kept an open mind himself, as he advised.
    When Professor Stalker published a new text, I had the temerity to write out all the answers to all the problems and proposed to publish them. I was persuaded not to do this since it would undermine the book and considerably diminish sales.
    These men were not only my mentors but my friends and companions, and not because their losses at poker gave me another small added income.
    But most of the time I was working or studying, correcting papers or tutoring. I completed three years’ university work in two. There was little time to play. I knew I had to work hard to become a good engineer, and I enjoyed it.
    There were lighter moments. Like the time Don and I were cleaning the wind tunnel and became so high on gasoline fumes and so noisy that we disrupted nearby classes.
    And lonely times. Trudging back across campus after dinner—which cost perhaps as little as fifty cents or as much as$1.25—for more wind tunnel work or correcting papers for the professors.
    Those were the days of Prohibition and home brew. I was very much against drinking then, believing the stories of my hard-drinking Swedish ancestry, but my colleagues in the boardinghouse imbibed the stuff they brewed—fermenting fruit juice in a can. Returning from campus on a winter evening, I found one fellow sitting outside in the snow wearing only his shorts, and mumbling to himself. Another convincing argument against drinking.
    I had my first ulcer in high school, but in college I had one all the time. I’ve always been a worry wart. I discovered that if I kept something in my stomach all the time I felt fine. I did that with repeated ingestion of two doughnuts and a glass of milk—at a cost of twenty cents. One semester I computed that I had consumed 647 doughnuts—at five cents each.
    In all my time at the university, I went out on dates just twice. Once to a good movie—I don’t remember what it was. And to a class dance. Dancing came easily to me, fortunately. When would I have had time to practice? I had learned in high school. But I didn’t have time for romance either, and I deliberately avoided any entanglement. There would be no detours from my goal.
    The year 1932, when I was graduated with a bachelor’s degree in aeronautical engineering, was not a propitious year for job hunting. My friend Don and I investigated opportunities on