At the beginning of the semester, the lecture room (one of the lagest on campus, in a building that was later named for Van Allen) was full of students who seeminglywanted to learn from Van Allen. But that changed quickly, as it became clear that Van Allen’s class would require a considerable amount of work. As it became clear that the class required work, the empty space in the lecture hall grew rapidly.

Dr. Van Allen gave his lectures while wearing a rumpled lab coat that reminded everyone of Lt. Columbo. Before beginning each lecture, he would slip over his head what appeared to be a deformed wire coat hanger with a microphone taped to it. With this plain but effective apparatus, he was able to speak to the students while writing on the chalkboard.

He made sure we learned about at least one star each week. In theory, we would be able to find and observe the star ourselves, because we would be outside on EVERY clear night plotting the position of the moon in relation to the other stars, using little more than a strip of clear plastic with degree markings we’d made with a marking pen. As we approached the end of the semester, we had to turn in reports showing our observations of the moon, along with a chart showing the moon’s position and phase.

On the day these reports were due, Dr. Van Allen announced how many measurements he himself had made over the past weeks. The students were stunned, for two reasons. First, most of them had made only a handful of measurements, and their prof was apparently expecting them to have made many more than that. (The excuse “There were a lot of cloudy nights!” wasn’t going to fly with this professor!) Second, the students were amazed that this man had been performing the very same experiment HIMSELF the entire time!

Dr. Van Allen was one of the most down-to-earth teachers on campus. If you said hello to him, he was quick to return a friendly smile and hello, and happy to visit with you about your studies.

I happened to bump into him in 1995, ten years after he retired, while visiting the Physics and Astronomy department offices in Van Allen Hall. As I waited my turn for assistance from the department, I suddenly found that Dr. Van Allen was standing right next to me. “Why, Dr. Van Allen,” I exclaimed, and promptly introduced myself. He was pleased to set aside his business of the moment and visit with me. I told him that I had taken his Astronomy class late in the 1970s and that it had really contributed to my love of astronomy. Dr. Van Allen and I chatted for a while about current events and our plans for the future.

He was a great space scientist. And a great teacher. And a great guy.

Because he had no credentials, his proposal was ignored, then when they were verified by van Allen, his name was lost and buried. Al I can remember after all this time is that he was a Greek imagre to the USA.

Gary 7