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Chapter 6

University of Kansas and Nova Scotia (1955-1957)

The University of Kansas (KU) was founded by New England settlers to the Lawrence, KS, region. Instruction began in 1866 to 29 male and 26 female students. It was the first university established on the Great Plains. Joe Naismith started a basketball tradition at KU. The inventor of Vitamins A and D is a KU graduate. The first extraction of Helium as a gas was completed in a KU chemistry lab.

The history of geology at KU is partially summarized from two books by Merriam². From inception, natural science was taught by a professor of mathematics and natural sciences, Francis H. Snow, an entomologist who also held interests in geology and paleontology². In 1890, he became Chancellor of KU. That year, Samuel W. Williston (MD, PhD Yale, paleontology) was hired to teach geology, paleontology and biology to replace Snow. He left later for the University of Chicago.

In 1892, a new department of Physical Geology and Mineralogy was established and Erasmus Haworth (BS, MS, Kansas, PhD, Johns Hopkins, economic geology; Kansas, Private Consultant) was hired as its first department head. He also became Director of the Kansas Geological Survey in 1895. In 1910, W. H. Twenhofel was hired as a faculty member and became State Geologist in 1915. He left a year later². Raymond C. Moore (BA Denison, PhD, Chicago; paleontology and stratigraphy; KU) was appointed to the geology faculty in 1916. He was promoted to a full professorship in 1919, serving also as Department Head until 1940².

The Department expanded, especially after World War II. By virtue of Moore’s working style and its location, KU became a globally recognized center of paleontology and stratigraphy during his service. Moore died in 1975.

KU began offering a Master’s degree in geology in 1875, and a PhD program was approved in 1894². The first PhD in geology (paleontology) was awarded in 1899 to Joshua W. Beede.

After arriving in Lawrence in early September, 1955, I rented a room and settled in. That evening, I decided to find Lindley Hall, the geology building built during the early 1940’s, and met a micropaleontology graduate student, Quinn Lockel. Quinn showed me around and told me some things about his first year there.

Next morning, I returned to get office space and select courses with the help of the department chairman, M. L. (Luke) Thompson (BS, MS, Mississippi A&M (now Mississippi State University), PhD, Iowa, micropaleontology; Kansas, Wisconsin, Kansas, Illinois Geological Survey). Luke was a world-class micropalentologist specializing in Fusulinidae. I enrolled in aerial photograph and geomorphology (both taught by Dr. H. T. U. Smith; PhD, Harvard, geomorphology; Kansas, Univ. of Massachusetts), economic geology (taught by Bill Hambleton, B.A. F&M, MS., Northwestern, PhD, Kansas; also Associate Director of the Kansas Geological Survey), and a groundwater course with Frank Foley (BA, Toronto, PhD, Princeton; hydrogeology, Director of the Kansas Geological Survey). I then registered and completed a routine medical exam.

After the medical exam, I was directed to a door which opened to a large room with ten desks, each with an attractive, well-groomed co-ed. I was motioned to sit with one of them and she asked me where I was from, why I came to KU, and where I spent the summer. I thought this odd so finally asked, “Why are you asking me these questions?” She laughed and explained that KU admitted a large number of students from rural areas and all new students had to complete an elocution screen. That screen was to identify students who needed an elocution course and make their spoken English more main-stream American. She explained she majored in elocution and I passed, and could leave.

Because I had no financial aid, I inquired about part-time work and the department secretary networked me to the Kansas Geological Survey which needed a student draftsman. I spent the year drafting measured columnar sections that were on file and thus quickly learned Kansas geology. My supervisor was Bill Ives, who also worked part-time on his PhD. I also met other Kansas Geological Survey geologists, learned how such an organization functions, and its mission. I valued the experience, although the pay was not great.

The semester started and I discovered that both the undergraduate structural geology and the mineralogy courses ran field trips to the Arbuckle Mountains in Oklahoma, Magnet Cove, AR, and the Eagle Picher Mine area of southwest Missouri. I joined them, saw great geology and collected some nice mineral specimens. It was well worth the time.

In Oklahoma, we stayed at an old hotel in Sulphur, OK, and Louis Dellwig (BS, MS, Lehigh, PhD Michigan; structural geology; KU; served as an Army Captain during World War II and had most of his left shoulder blown away during the Battle of the Bulge) invited the teaching assistants and me to his hotel room to share a bottle of scotch he brought with him. Oklahoma was a dry state and KU did not permit alcohol at any campus functions. Louis told us that after the sacrifices he made during World War II for his country, no bluenoses were going to tell him where, when and what to drink. Louis was a lovable, yet crusty individual, and he became my Master’s thesis supervisor.

The geomorphology course also had a one-week field trip to the Rio Grande Valley of New Mexico. We camped the first night within a V-shaped highway intersection near Guymon, Oklahoma, and were kept awake most of the night by passing trucks. I remember having dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Santa Fe with Ralph Lamb (BS. MS, Kansas, Chevron - later Exploration manager in Latin America) and Billy D. Holland (BS, Texas, MS, Kansas, Humble, chief geologist for Pogo Petroleum, president of his own oil company). They helped make decent choices for the first Mexican meal I tasted.

We camped on the eastern rift shoulder of the Rio Grande Valley and while completing a field mapping exercise, H.T.U. Smith pulled out a revolver from his car and started firing away across the valley. No one was around and it gave a wild western touch to the trip. I also realized that the departmental faculty included some colorful people.

Back on campus, Bill Hambleton helped my confidence by letting me teach his classes whenever he was away on state business. It also earned the respect of the students in the class.

At the end of the semester, I earned two A’s, one B, and a C in aerial photography. That C grade resulted from a team-exercise to prepare a geological map from air photos and I was paired with a student who did not fulfill his end of the bargain. I completed a hurry-up job at the last minute.

As good as KU was, it was also extremely uneven in quality and standards. One had to pick and chose selectively to maximize the experience. When discussing this with H.T.U. Smith before he left in 1956 to move to the University of Massachusetts, he said, “It’s very hard to set standards higher than those around you.” His statement stayed with me since then. I saw firsthand what he meant in every university where I taught as a permanent faculty member.

I returned to complete my first semester, and worked at the Kansas Survey during the between-semester break. I also experienced the first of many ice storms which made walking to campus difficult. I moved to a room closer to campus, and because there was an unrented room in the building, I arranged for a new PhD student, Stuart (“Duffy”) Grossman to rent it. Duffy completed his undergraduate and Master’s at the University of Illinois and just returned from Military duty.

Another new student whom I befriended, John C. Mann, also arrived after serving as an Army Captain in Korea. I spent time with these older students and they taught me much. Lloyd Foster, a graduate of VPI (Now Virginia Tech), was a third new arrival. He was just discharged as an Army Captain having been in combat in Korea. Lloyd was likeable and I enjoyed his company, but he hadn’t quite discarded his army fatigues, talked loudly, ordered people around, and did his share of stepping on peoples’ toes. Usually a good sense of humor brought him around.

Despite the year at Hopkins, I was only the second youngest person in my entry class.

I also befriended three other graduate students. Charles Dodge was a second-year Master’s student working with H.T.U. Smith. Charles earned a BA from Princeton, and on completing his Master’s moved with Smith to the University of Massachusetts as an Instructor while working on a PhD. Jim Sorauf was awarded the Pan American Fellowship. He earned a BS and MS from Wisconsin and was undertaking a PhD with Raymond C. Moore in paleontology. He made his career as a professor at the University of Binghampton.

The third graduate student I befriended was Alistair (Al) McCrone. A Canadian, he earned a BS from the University of Saskatchewan and a MS from the University of Nebraska. He spoke with a Scottish brogue and completed a PhD in stratigraphy, also with Moore. He taught at NYU, serving as its Dean of their Graduate School, and moved on to become President of the University of the Pacific, and, later, President of Humbolt State University.

I also met Daniel F. Merriam (BS, MS, PhD., Univ. of Kansas; stratigraphy and mathematic geology, Kansas Geological Survey (KGS), Syracuse University, Wichita State University, KGS; William Smith Medalist of the Geological Society of London) who worked at the Kansas Geological Survey and was completing a PhD with Raymond C. Moore. Dan worked for many years at the KGS, then headed the department of geology at Syracuse University, then did the same at Wichita State University, and returned to the KGS. Dan was responsible for pioneering the field of mathematical and computational geology. In his later years, he also wrote books about Raymond C. Moore² and the history of the first hundred years of the KU geology department². As both our careers advanced, I came to appreciate Dan’s contribution more and more in time.

One of the differences between KU and both Wesleyan and Hopkins was that the majority of graduate students were married; some also had children. A large contingent of students came from Texas and all were married. I knew them around Lindley Hall and in class but because they went home at the end of the day, I seldom saw them outside of working hours. I discovered later they tend to marry much younger in The South, and also in rural areas. I also became good friends with Ed Gutentag who graduated from Brooklyn College and served in the Military. He contracted TB while on active duty, was cured, but as he explained later, he received disability payments for life which covered his education expenses along with the GI Bill.

Mann, Foster, and Grossman also received GI Bill benefits but they were also awarded teaching assistantships. In Mann and Foster’s case, they had earlier offers of TA’s from KU but went into service first. KU was obligated to give them their TA’s on return.

Second semester I enrolled in Advanced Structural Geology (Dellwig), Economic Geology (Hambleton), Petroleum Geology (Walter Youngquist, BA, Gustav Adolphus, MS, PhD. Iowa; paleontology; International Petroleum; KU, Univ. of Oregon; Consultant), and field stratigraphy taught by the eminent Raymond C. Moore². Moore earned a PhD from the University of Chicago in 1916 and joined KU afterwards. He was chairman of the department twice, Director of the state geological survey once, and spent most of his time while I was there in his office editing “The Treatise of Paleontology”, a multi-volume compendium of all fossil groups.

Moore was an austere individual who could be both gruff and kind at the same time. Stories about him were legend and he put the fear of God into the hearts of many generations of Kansas students. However, if a student worked diligently and did their homework, he took kindly towards you. He later became president of the Geological Society of America and was definitely one of the major figures of stratigraphy and paleontology in the world. He taught me much and I admit that I modeled some of my career after my perceptions of him.

Moore was an awe-inspiring leader, responsive to critical needs, and if one demonstrated that you were focused on your goals, he respected a student. He was very thoughtful in his replies to me, and extremely helpful.

Moore also imparted a sense of professional commitment and how important commitment was in developing a career.

After a month, I dropped Petroleum Geology. Youngquist had a mean streak and graded idiosyncratically. In discussion one day he was unable to consider alternate points of view advanced by students, particularly those whose fathers were in the oil business, and unjustly penalized them. I was not learning much.

It also became obvious that the faculty was badly split. Thompson and Youngquist basically took over the department and rammed things down the throats of the other faculty. Both were paleontologists and wanted to make KU a paleontological powerhouse. When Smith left for the University of Massachusetts that summer, he was replaced by Charlie Pitrat, a paleontologist teaching geomorphology. Thompson also hired Ed Zeller to start a program in thermoluminescence geochemistry but Zeller earned a PhD from Wisconsin in paleontology, as had Doris, his wife.

This split impacted graduate students. Those who weren’t part of the paleontology group were not as well treated as the paleontology graduate students. After earning my Masters in 1957, Thompson left to become principal geologist at the Illinois Geological Survey in Champaign, IL, Farquar (petrology) left for the University of Massachusetts, and Youngquist left for the University of Oregon.

Frank Foley (KGS Director) became both KGS Director and Department chairman in the fall of 1957, and Hambleton basically ran the KGS. Louis Dellwig became Associate Chairman and ran the department. Pitrat taught paleontology, and Wakefield Dort was hired from Penn State to teach geomorphology. Under Foley’s leadership, the department settled down.

The format for the field stratigraphy was definitely atraditional. Early in March, 1956, we received a notice that Moore wanted to meet the class one evening to give instructions. The class would measure stratigraphic sections during spring vacation in newly blasted road cuts along the Kansas Turnpike. We were to meet on the first Saturday of spring vacation, start work and return to Lawrence that night. We did the same on Sunday. Then we were to bring changes of clothing to complete a road trip, spending the night in local hotels. On the first three days, we brought lunches, and from Monday night until we returned, we ate in restaurants.

On that Saturday, I arrived slightly later than the rest of the class and the two carryalls were already full. I therefore rode in the car that Ray Moore drove. That was a blessing in disguise. The others in the car were John Mann, and Wayne Bates. Bates, Mann and I were all completing Master’s thesis work with Dellwig.

It was perfect spring weather: Clear skies, cool, crisp air, and the spring wheat had just sprouted giving the landscape a coat of green.

In some ways, the week was a defining one for me. I was able to have the same mentoring type of conversation with Moore like the one I had with Joe Peoples after a field trip in 1952. Moreover, we were measuring sections on Pennsylvanian cyclothems. Moore taught us how to keep track of each stratigraphic unit by observing the topography and identify them on successive ridges as we headed west. Not once during the trip did Moore lecture so we never discussed as a class the origin of cyclothems. I learned his interpretation by asking questions in the car.

Ray Moore clearly taught me much including:

- the art of scholarship,

- the importance of preparation and the meaning of terms,

- how to become a committed scientist,

- the importance of long, hard work,

- the importance of setting and achieving goals,

- how to staying focused,

- the importance of brevity,

- the importance of establishing and maintaining high standards professionally and ethically,

and

- the importance of never giving up on my goals, my dreams, or myself, no matter how tough sometimes things can be.

Be assured, I owe Ray Moore a lot because his example guided me during much of my career even though he was neither my thesis advisor nor on my Master’s committee.

I recall during one lunch stop at a family-style restaurant in Larned, KS, Moore gave me some unexpected advice. I sat across from him on the inside seat of a booth, with two other students. We were served an entree on our plate, Dutch-style fried potatoes in an urn, and vegetables in a separate urn. Dutch-style friend potatoes were a big favorite, and I helped myself with seconds and thirds. Moore looked at me and said nothing.

We each received individual checks for the meal and the two students on the outside of the booth filed out to pay their bill. I followed standing behind them. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm and turned around. There was a red-faced Dr. Moore and he said, “Klein, I think you’ll make a great geologist, but if you eat like that you’ll never make it.”

I replied, “Thank you sir” and remembered being told he survived two heart attacks. I never ate Dutch fried potatoes again.

There was a second incident that occurred at an outcrop at a road cut off the Kansas Turnpike where Moore knew there would be good fossils. I left the car a little late and everyone was crowded around a thin bed. Clearly, there was no room. So I walked down the road and examined cross-bedded sandstone exposed on a ledge. While looking at it, Moore and the rest of the class trooped by and Ray said,

“Klein, you’re wasting your time there. The fossils are down below.”

It was a memorable week. On our return, we had five weeks until the end of the semester to complete our reports and turn them in. Moore gave me a B plus and on the copy he returned he wrote “Very good. You are getting close to an improved understanding of stratigraphy.”

Before the semester ended, a seminal event occurred that changed my life. For me one of the biggest turning point in my career was a colloquium offered by Ed McKee of the U.S.G.S. in April 1956, and a second one by Harold N. Fisk, Vice President of Exploration Research, Humble Oil Research Laboratory (also in 1956).

McKee showed how different assemblages of sedimentary structures characterized some modern depositional environments and it caught my attention. I had not seen any papers published using this approach. I concluded there had to be more to it in terms of depositional process than what McKee presented.

Later, Harold Fisk came to talk on his work on the Mississippi Delta and demonstrated sedimentology was predictive.

Those two colloquia were game-changers for me (See Chapter 29).

The semester ended and I was ready to undertake field work for a Master’s thesis. While working in Newfoundland the previous summer, I observed Precambrian red beds and asked Stu Jenness if the Geological Survey of Canada could support me the next summer while I did a Master’s thesis on them. He told me that might be difficult.

However, Frank Nolan told me there were spectacular outcrops of Triassic red beds along the coast of the Bay of Fundy and suggested I work there. I completed a literature search and discovered also that M.I.T. ran a geology field camp in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. The route for an American to do field work in Nova Scotia was through them. I wrote their field camp director, Dr. Walter Whitehead who arranged funding from the Nova Scotia Research Foundation (NSRF) and Nova Scotia Dept. of Mines (NSDM). I broached the subject with Lou Dellwig. He approved the topic and agreed to supervise me.

I arrived in Wolfville, Nova Scotia (NS) in the middle of June, 1956, and lived the entire summer in the only hotel in town. I arranged a favorable long-term rate for room and board, including packed lunches. I discovered the place was occupied mostly by retired widows and a few widowers.

Nova Scotia was far more prosperous than Newfoundland. It was well-networked with Canadian and subsidiary US businesses, phone service was adequate, roads were paved, and people were better off. They also seemed better educated.

The part of Nova Scotia where I completed my Master’s thesis was known as “Evangeline County.” The original French settlers were driven out, forced on British ships after the French-Indian War and shipped to Louisiana. Their descendents are the original “Cajuns” of Louisiana. Longfellow’s poem “Evangeline” was inspired by these events.

Every summer, this part of Nova Scotia was visited by people from Louisiana. The Cajuns make a pilgrimage at least once during their lifetime. They either drove individually, or as part of ‘Airstream’ caravans organized in those bays by Wally Bynum

The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world (highest tide of 52’ at Burntoat Head, Hants County, NS) so my work was scheduled around tide tables. On days of mid-day high tides, I generally worked on inland outcrops. On days of early morning and evening high tides, I worked along the coast which had spectacular outcrops.

I enjoyed good weather most of the summer and completed my mapping, establishing a type section for the Triassic. Using sedimentary structures, I identified possible depositional settings.

Dr. Whitehead visited me together with Dr. Robert R. Shrock, head of the Geology and Geophysics Department at M.I.T. late in July, 1956. Shrock earned his PhD at Indiana University completing a definitive, widely cited published thesis on Silurian reefs in the upper Middle West. After earning his PhD, he was appointed to the faculty at the University of Wisconsin. Several years later, one of his colleagues, L. T. Meade, was appointed head of the geoscience program at M.I.T and invited Shrock to join him. Shrock agreed and eventually succeeded Meade as department head. He later became president of the Society of Economic Paleontologists and Mineralogists (SEPM, now the Society of Sedimentary Research), and served on a variety of significant national committees.

Both stayed in my hotel and I gave them a field trip to show the progress of my work. During lunch, Shrock told me they liked my work and asked about my future plans. I told him I wanted to earn a PhD, do research, preferably in a research university, and pursue my interests in sedimentology. I mentioned the colloquia by McKee and Fisk with which Shrock was familiar. He told me that given my background and interests, M.I.T. would not be a good place for me, but he would help me get into places wherever I applied. Whitehead offered to do the same. Shrock suggested I apply to Yale and work with John E. Sanders who had similar interests. Shrock also made it clear he would write a letter of recommendation only if I got one from Raymond C. Moore.

On completing my field work, I returned to KU for my second year with the goal of completing my Master’s and pursuing a PhD elsewhere. I enrolled in two courses that fall, with the third course being thesis credits. I enrolled in Dr. Andrew Ireland’s course in sedimentary petrology. Ireland earned a PhD with Pettijohn at the University of Chicago, worked in the U.S. Department of Agriculture and Standard Oil Company of Texas before coming to KU. He was much loved by most graduate students. However, his course was a total waste of time. Instead of learning sedimentary petrology, it was a lab techniques course and most I knew. I earned an “A”, but got little out of it.

The second course I took was “Geological Development of the World” taught by Raymond C. Moore. The course focused on the type stratigraphic sections of Western Europe. The course met Saturday morning at 8:00 am, with a break around 10:00 am, and finished at noon. Each student was assigned a topic to research in the library and then present a 45 minute lecture to the class. We then discussed that paper before going to the next student presentation.

I knew in advance that Moore had a reputation of being very tough in his questioning and if one didn’t know the answer, he had various ways to make a student know that he was unimpressed. The first class meeting we were assigned topics and dismissed. During the second meeting, four presentations were made ahead of me so I wasn’t called on.

Given his reputation, I watched how Moore handled himself with students when he asked questions and a pattern emerged. He wanted to know if student knew the meaning of terms, and where localities occurred on a map. With that in mind, I reviewed my presentation for the next class checking definitions of critical terms, and map locations. During my presentation, I mentioned a term and he interrupted and asked what it meant. I answered and he was satisfied. He did it again after a few minutes, and he was satisfied.

During the rest of the semester, he NEVER asked me to define a term again. Clearly, he was trying to instill in each student the importance of doing one’s homework and knowing what one was talking about. If you did, he left you alone.

I live now in the greater Houston area and one of the city’s most prominent citizens is James Baker, former US Secretary of State. Baker, according to an article in “The Houston Chronicle,” came from a family of lawyers. The family firm had a paradigm known as ‘the Five P’s – Prior Preparation Prevents Poor Performance.’ Moore was trying to instill a similar paradigm with KU geology students.

Later in the semester, during one of my presentations, he interrupted and asked me to locate something on a map. I did, but was off five miles. He got up, walked to the map, pointed to the correct spot, sat down and said nothing. I used that technique during my PhD dissertation defense several years later (Chapter 7).

Every now and then, Moore would talk off the cuff and outline critical principles and insights. I took notes on his comments.

Moore also discussed professional and career matters. His best advice: “Always go into an uncrowded field” to get early notice and develop a research reputation.

A week before the last class meeting, Moore explained that we would take a final exam during the last class. It consisted of everyone making a 15-minute presentation on one of the geological systems of the world. He assigned me the Permian System, so to prepare the 15 minute talk I reviewed all my course notes, and went to the library.

After a day of library research, I said to myself ‘There is no way I can review the Permian geology of the world in 15 minutes. Gee, George, you’re sunk! What are you going to do?’

I went through my notes again and compiled all the off the cuff comments Moore made about stratigraphic principles. Some were repeated many times.

My compilation of those principles was less than two pages, including his repeated comments.

Suddenly I realized if I talked about the Permian in terms of those principles I could review it in the time allotted. I planned accordingly.

On the last day of class, my fellow students successively got up to talk about their assigned geological system. They discussed the type sections and proceeded to describe the world’s geology of their system. When the 15 minutes were up, none finished. Moore cut them off. We started with the Precambrian and it was that way with every talk about the Precambrian and Paleozoic. My turn came and I quickly explained the type area of the Permian system. I then talked about the boundary problems of that system, explaining it in terms of all the stratigraphic principles Moore had discussed. I glanced at Moore and he sat there with his usual expressionless, poker face but was focusing on every word I said.

I finished in 13 minutes. Moore said “Well Klein, you have more time. Don’t you want to use it?”

I replied “No sir.” and sat down.

Jim Sorauf, who also took the class, told me afterwards, that I was the only one who talked about all the principles Moore reviewed during the semester. Given Jim’s experience, it left me with a good feeling.

Earlier during the semester, I made an appointment to see Moore and told him about my conversation with Shrock. I asked if he would write a letter of reference to another university.

Moore immediately asked, “What! Leave Kansas?”

I explained that I would complete all courses of interest to me when I would complete my Master’s degree in 1957. I also explained I found the language requirements at KU, as then promulgated, far more onerous than other places.

Moore replied, “Now you know why so many of my good students like Ellis Yochelson and Norman Newell went elsewhere. I’ll be sorry to see you go, but I’ll be happy to write those letters.”

After the final exam presentations were completed, I stopped by Moore’s office with all the reference forms for a National Science Foundation (NSF) pre-doctoral fellowship, and the four graduate schools to which I applied. He assured me he would back me. He gave me an “A” for my work in “Geological Development of the World.”

During the 1956-57 academic year, I earned my expenses as a Teaching Assistant in ‘Western Civilization.’ I applied for an assistantship in the geology department but Thompson and Youngquist turned me down. I saw an advertisement in the student newspaper that the Western Civilization program needed instructors. I talked to the director, Paul Heller, and applied. I received an appointment, including a tuition and fee waiver.

It turned out I was not the only one so treated by Thompson. I found out recently that one of my fellow students who arrived that fall, Bill Fisher, was similarly treated³. While an undergraduate at Southern Illinois University, Bill applied to Kansas and was offered a TA. However, he was drafted and went on active duty explaining in a letter to KU he would return in two years. When he arrived at KU, Thompson did not give him the TA promised before. Two weeks later, Moore gave him a research assistantship³

Bill Fisher and I also got acquainted. He was married so I only saw him during the day. He came from Southern Illinois University and then served for two years in the US Army. He earned a PhD with Ray Moore and went to the Texas Bureau of Economic Geology. There he pioneered the concept of Depositional Systems, Systems tracts, and contributed to the development of sequence stratigraphy. He also became Bureau Director as well as a part-time professor of geology at the University of Texas at Austin. He served for two years in the Ford Administration as Assistant Secretary of Energy. Later, he went full-time at the University of Texas, was chairman of the geology department for a brief period, and also served as Director of its Geology Foundation. He was directly instrumental in the negotiations that led to the $253 Million bequest from John A. Jackson which led to establishing the Jackson School of Geosciences there. Bill was its ‘inaugural’ dean.³

That fall, I befriended some of the newly admitted graduate students. One was Mahlon Ball who returned from Military Service. He earned a BS and MS from Kansas and returned to work with Ray Moore on a PhD. Mahlon worked for Shell Research, and then made a career as a marine geologist with the U.S. Geological Survey.

Over Christmas break, I applied to Yale, Princeton, Northwestern and the University of Wisconsin.

On my way back from Nova Scotia during early September, 1956, I met Richard F. Flint (PhD. Chicago, Quaternary Geology; Yale), director of graduate studies in the geology department at Yale. He spelled out the ground rules if I was accepted. If I did well, financial aid was assured for three years only because I would come in with a Masters. In other words, I had three years to get the PhD done. I raised the possibility of continuing my research in Nova Scotia and explained the grants I had received from the Nova Scotia government. He assured me that the department would likely approve the thesis topic because few Yale geology graduate students came with financial support for their thesis field work. We had a good meeting.

I also revisited Franklin Van Houten at Princeton and explained my research goals and discussed the McKee and Fisk colloquia. He was supportive of my continuing my Nova Scotia research if accepted.

Northwestern and Wisconsin were basically back-up applications. I heard that Wisconsin hired someone to replace Twenhofel, but was given no details.

Second term I took Hambleton’s economic geology course (he offered three semesters) and two credits of Master’s thesis.

I interviewed oil companies in the fall and Humble offered me a job in Midland, TX. I declined after receiving a letter from Yale offering me graduate admission, a teaching assistantship, a tuition-and-fee waiver, and an additional stipend of $1,000.00. I immediately accepted Yale’s offer and also wrote Princeton, Northwestern and Wisconsin to withdraw my application. Northwestern and Wisconsin wrote back wishing me well and thanked me for letting them know promptly.

I spent most of my time during the second semester writing my thesis and drafting illustrations. I finally completed it near the end of March and gave it to Louis Dellwig. Although it took a month, he returned it after a long working session during which he spent considerable time showing how to rewrite the text. The grammar was fine. The organization and tortuous logic needed refining. It was a valuable lesson that stayed with me my entire career. Late in May, 1957, I completed a general Master’s oral exam.

With my master’s degree completed, I packed my belongings into my car and drove home. I did not attend commencement and the degree was mailed later.

After briefly visiting my parents, I returned to Nova Scotia to expand the scope of my work on the Triassic of Nova Scotia. Support was continued by the NSRF and the NSDM, but was told I may not get such support in the future. A spring election resulted in a change in government. A different political party took power and because I was funded by the previous regime, support was not guaranteed. I expanded my mapping and research into the Annapolis Valley and into Hants County.

At the end of the summer, I returned home and prepared to pursue my PhD at Yale.

LESSONS LEARNED:

1. Raymond C. Moore clearly taught me the art of scholarship, the importance of commitment as a scientist, the importance of long, hard work, the importance of setting and achieving goals, the importance of doing one’s homework and knowing what one was talking about, how to stay focused, the importance of brevity, the importance of establishing and working towards and maintaining high standards professionally and ethically, and the importance of never giving up on my goals, my dreams, or myself, no matter how tough things sometimes can be.

2. After meeting with Bob Shrock and Walter Whitehead, I realized that I was given a second chance after my experience at Hopkins. I learned then and later, second chances often come throughout one’s life and one should rise to meet them.

3. When a student encounters a split faculty as I did at Kansas, it’s best to be polite to everyone and not allow oneself to be caught up in any warfare that might occur. It was better to duck, hide, and keep working and stay with one’s objectives and hold true to one’s aspirations. I saw several students hurt by their involvement in faculty fights.

4. In a department with a faculty and course offerings that were variable, it was critical to pick and chose in terms of one’s goals.

5. Attend colloquia. They are the gateway to broader opportunities.

6. Moore told his class “Always go into an uncrowded field” to get noticed quickly for the research one completed. I did. Sedimentology as practiced today was in its infancy in the 1950’s through the middle 1960’s. I capitalized by starting and publishing my research during those early years.

POSTCRIPT #1. Within a month of arrival at the Illinois Geological Survey in 1957, M.L. Thompson suffered a stroke which disabled him permanently. During 1970, I was walking in the Lincoln Square mall in Urbana, IL, and saw Thompson and his wife. I approached them and asked if they remembered me. Thompson stared at me and had no recollection. Mrs. Thompson remembered me. I told her I was now on the faculty at the University of Illinois. I never saw them again, but read Luke’s obituary in 1985.