This is my 900th column on this site, five a week for going-on four-years
now, with a brief hiatus or two when work intervenes too strenuously.
There are at least 100 more, so we'll see what the world tosses out.
Thanks so much for reading, and for my Russian readers who keep coming and
going in large numbers, whoever you are and why ever you read this, "Спасибо за прочтение."
Dr. Francis Collins is the director of
the National Institutes of Health, or NIH, the huge Federal enterprise that
does many things, including coordinating Federal support of medical research in
all manner of areas. Dr. Collins has now served two administrations on
utter opposite sides of both politics and reality (the previous one, of course,
had a lesser grasp on reality).
Of course, Dr. Collins was also
one of the two men who led the effort to break the genetic code, and his Human
Genome Project has spawned amazing outcomes in research, forensics and other
scientifically marvelous areas, and put him on the cover of Time way back (when
it was actually flattering to be there), long before his tenure at NIH.
A serious Christian, he has authored, among a number of other books, the
bestselling "The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for
Belief", reflecting his view (which I share), that scientific theory,
such as the evolution of the species, is perfectly compatible with a divine
direction. I have always admired his willingness to promote such a view.
I have paid attention to Dr. Collins
over the years because, although I have not seen him in person in 44 years, we
spent a fair amount of time together. We were classmates in a class of
110 at medical school at the University of North Carolina, and pretty good
friends back then. His lab seat was in a group of four next to my group
of four, in the room where we were based when not in the classroom. So I
think I can call him "Francis" without hesitation, and not like
Gunther Toody would.
This piece is just a ramble, but
forgive me; you might be amused.
Of the 110 in the class, about
90-95 had gone to school in North Carolina as undergrads, many right there in
Chapel Hill. Francis had gone to Virginia, though, and I had gone to MIT,
as you know, which pretty much everyone in the class knew, since going from MIT
to medical school was pretty unusual at the time. Plus, I was kind of small and kind of loud
back then.
Some time in the middle of the year, 1974 maybe, we had a class session that
might have been a guest lecture -- we had a lot of them. About 110
first-year med students in a theater classroom listened as the instructing
physician talked about something or other for an hour.
There was a Q&A session at the end, and one of my colleagues asked a
question. The doctor pondered it for a moment, and decided that it didn't
really have an answer. "That", he replied to the
student, "would be like asking why the sky is blue."
I don't know what my mood was at the time, but I raised my hand and,
sarcastically summoning my academic pedigree, I said, "Well actually,
where I went to school we knew the answer to that." Of course,
the class went nuts, laughing for quite a while while the poor lecturer had no
earthly idea what was so funny.
After the year was out, I decided to start an opera company in Boston, and that
was it for my medical career. Francis did better, of course, staying in
school and becoming world-famous. When he was named to head NIH, I sent
him a congratulatory message, email having been invented in the 40 years or so
since we had communicated. Naturally he replied and was kind enough not
only to have said he remembered me, but that because of me, the whole UNC
Medical Class of 1977 now knew why the sky was blue.
Last year he was in the news again (he's often in the news, of course) for a
commencement address he gave at SMU. Francis is still a pretty funny guy,
and decided to spice up his speech by singing a parody of Sinatra's "My
Way" that was apropos for the moment. It was great, and I was
sent a link to it by a close friend who works at NIH and helps manage grant
applications there. Here it is, if you like, to listen to
when you're done reading.
I couldn't help it. I wrote and told him what I'd been up to, and that I
was now living by the beach and, while still working full time, had plenty of
time for golf and other more relaxing enterprises -- including this column --
far more so than he. And that I could write a parody or two if needed,
including one of the same song, "My Way", directed right at him and
the fact that he was still stuck in Washington and slaving long hours.
"Here you go", I wrote:
"So now – yes now you know, the sky is
blue, just like I told you
And you – you use the smarts that UNC, way back
then, sold you
While I – I’m playing golf, near Myrtle Beach,
far from the freeway
And work just when I please -- the M.I.T. way!"
Bless him, he replied (edited), "Hey there Bob ... that sassy
smart retort about the color of the sky, delivered to a touchy-feely professor
... is burned into the memories of all of your classmates, secure in a space
where no amyloid or tau deposits can touch it. Love the new verse!"
What a great guy.
Copyright 2018 by Robert Sutton
Like what you read here? There's a new post from Bob at
www.uberthoughtsUSA.com at 10am Eastern time, every weekday, giving new meaning
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