The End of an Era

I received some bittersweet news this past week---one of my dearest mentors and college professors, Professor W. (an analytical and inorganic chemist by training), is retiring at the end of this spring semester. It is hard to believe that it has been over 10 years (gulp!) since I sat in one of his classes. Where did the time go?

As I mentioned in my first ever post to this blog, science caught my imagination as a kid and I knew I wanted to pursue it as a career. I just couldn't decide which branch of science I liked more. One day, I was going to be an astronaut and the next, a biochemist. In high school, I had an awesome chemistry teacher--Mrs. Sadler. Between my experiences in her class, that infamous chemistry set from a few Christmases back, and courses I took at Governor's School the summer prior to my senior year in high school, I finally focused in fully on chemistry. (Specifically, chemical research in the development of pharmaceuticals.)


But it was in Professor W.'s general chemistry class as a college freshman that I came to fully appreciate what could be possible with chemistry.

I was actually sitting in my academic adviser's office (whom I will call Professor D--a physical chemist by training) planning my college freshman fall semester schedule when I first met Professor W. I remember it like it happened yesterday. Professor D introduced us and told him I was from P.B. (my hometown that was about 90 minutes south of my college town). Professor W. kinda tilted his head to one side (a mannerism I would come to know and love) and asked if I were Ann's little sister.

(My sister, a biology major, attended the same small, private liberal arts college that I did. She was a senior when I was a freshman--we even lived in the same dorm. She had taken a couple of chemistry courses including Professor W.'s general chemistry course so he was acquainted with her.)

I said yes and he made a joke about how they (the school) was going to have to endure another ----- (my last name) woman. I replied other schools should be so lucky. He grinned broadly and said,"Spunky, too."

Little did I know how Professor W. would prominently figure into my future. Over the next four years, our mentor-student relationship and our friendship grew steadily. When I had a bad week, he was there. When I triumphed in lab, he was there. And later, after graduating college, when I was dealing with the overwhelming stress of less-than-benevolent graduate and postdoc advisers, he was there--telling me I could do it and not to lose faith in my abilities. He is one of only a handful of people I met in my 32 years that--I know this sounds dorky--but who truly seems to get me. I think it was in part due to the fact we were cut from the same cloth.

But I just can't imagine my alma mater without him. And I know he hasn't died and he is just a phone call away but it really does seem like the end of an era.