I love the excerpt from Counting Coup.

This article brought back a memory. I attended a summer program for industry retirees that were willing to teach in college because there was, apparently, a college teacher shortage in the late 1960s in technical and management fields. In our Retread program of about 30 was a colorful character from Virginia with the appropriate accent, J. R. Calloway Brown. With heavy black eyebrows graying temples and a white suit, distinguishing him from the rest of the group immensely.

During that summer I had acquired a country A-frame of two bedrooms to rent with an option to buy. Dr. Brown had been hired by the chemistry department that fall and, I'm not sure how, but became my roommate. He smoked like a smokestack, but thankfully, only outside. I learned that he had retired from Westinghouse in Michigan, was divorced and had a couple of grown children that he talked to occasionally by long-distance. I cooked at home but he ate out and hung out in the local bar, so I rarely saw him during the school year when he befriended a professor in the business school.

At some point, I learned that Calloway had worked on the Manhattan Project. He never told me what he did. I recently did a search and didn't find anything on him, but there may be some paperwork out there with his name on it. He said that he didn't want to learn anymore chemistry. He taught chemistry and refused to wear safety glasses, which bothered the head of the department as a bad example for the students.

Calloway disappeared in the midyear break after Christmas. I thought he may have gone back to Michigan or divinity as children in Colorado. But I got a call from the business professor telling me that he had checked himself in to the psychiatry ward at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester. He wanted his shaving kit, so I took a Saturday to drive over to Rochester on a crystal clear, 20° below zero day. When I handed over the shaving kit to an intern, he immediately opened it up and told me that they could not allow any razor blades. I admitted knowing nothing about that and left. I was glad that I took the trip because I saw Canada geese flying and had learned that it was the people of Rochester that saved them in the 1920s from near extinction from over hunting.

Calloway returned to teach the second semester but didn't say anything about what happened at the clinic, except that he had, "hypertension." High blood pressure? Psychiatric ward? I think he had PTSD from working on the Manhattan Project. One day, when I was in his room for something and he was gone I saw something rolled up by the bed. Curious, I unrolled it, and it was his very large diploma from the University of Virginia for his doctorate in chemistry in 1928! I wish now I would have questioned him about his life before. I guess that is lost is to history. In the spring after the semester was over, he packed up his car and drove back to Michigan. I never heard from him again.

Ron

I am impressed with the results of your dedication and research!

too bad so few seem to have much interest in our past, may be why so few know where we are going


Never Stop Writing!!


m