Haverford College - Record Yearbook (Haverford, PA)

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MATHEMATICS Havcrford ' s m.itlK-ni.itics rooms bear the labels East and West , but the majors who studied topology found out that the twain eould actually meet. Al- though both majors and teachers realize that some (e.g., physicists, psychologists, morticians, gamblers, and income-tax cheaters) use their favorite subject simply as a tt)ol, they enioy mathematics for its own sake and for the marvelous, infinite, n-dimensional world it opens to them. To some, mathematics is to science what phil- osophy IS to the humanistic disciplines — a distant com- mon meeting ground. Cletus ( Clete ) Oakley, head of the department, may look stuffy and serious in his classroom (even at iS a.m.), especially when he slides his glasses to the tip of his nose and peers over the tip of the rims at a student who obviously has not done the day ' s home- work; or when he bows his head, closes his eyes, and clarities a principle in quiet, measured tones. The first sign of his true spontaneity w-ould be his leap onto the sill to lower the top window and let in refreshing breezes. His humorous extroversion would be confirmed by his frequent vaults out of the East Math Room window onto Founders Porch. No sideliner with re- spect to athletics, Clete still offers an A to any of his students who can beat him in handball. Many have attempted, but nobody has yet had the strength, ability, or cunning to emerge victorious. Mr. Oakley ' s math- ematical interests range from an explanation of Mor- ley ' s theorem (to be seen, framed, in the Gummere- Morley Room), to co-authoring the Freshman Math text, to designing educational cutouts for children ' s magazines. Robert ( Bullet Bob ) Wisner is a shrewd, liberal thinker who maintains rigorous teaching standards and commands the admiration of his hard-working math majors. In his criticism of philosophers, Haverford ' s admission policy, and other weighty issues in society, he tends to biting and caustic sarcasm. Bullet Bob frequents the Coop regularly, either conducting an ad- vanced seminar, conversing with several other pro- fessors, or holding a coffee hour v ith some of the younger secretaries. When asked about his office hours, he replies succinctly: Almost never. Perhaps this occurs because he ' s often so busy playing with his flexagons. When Fr.mklin Duttenhofer began teaching here as an instructor in the fall of 195 7, he needed no in- troduction to Haverford College, having graduated from this venerable institution just fifteen months previously. Fr.mk then became a Quaker (University of Pennsyl- vania variety) and has now returned to preach in his Main Line drawl of curves, natural functions, and limits. CLETUS O. OAKLEY FRANKLIN H. DUTTENHOFER ROBERT J. WISNER Tu ' entv-three

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{ rr f- ,. 1 f LOUIS C. GREEN AARON LEMONICK THOMAS A. BENHAM FAY A. SELOVE PHYSICS AND ASTRONOMY In the context of d liberal arts atmosphere, physics is a symbol of the outside world where technological advance is the order of the day and emphasis is, with attendant regret, shifting from an artistic to a mecha- nistic culture. To the world-weary physics student, however, its high level of abstraction provides a wel- come relief from the apparently hopeless muddle of social science and the aimless frustnition of modern art. In the microcosm of Haverford. then, the physics department assumes a position of aloofness from the main stream of intellectual activity. Life surges for- ward at its own hurricane pace, oblivious to the idyllic atmosphere elsewhere; Sharpless hums with a dizzy round of new equipment purchases and curriculum changes. Aaron Lemonick, who with his boundless and exuberant energy has almost completely trans- formed the face of the department over the past four years, is a dynamic and convincing teacher, spending much care and thought on the development of new teaching methods and materials. Mrs. Fay Selove com- bines a passion for Turkish cigarettes with an uncanny sense of the importance of a laboratory in modern physics, a valuable and unusual feature for a small department. Thus, except for the peaceful soirees at Tom Benham ' s, where bedraggled Efe?M students come to report long-overdue problem sets and where the world revolves around a cup of Constant Comment, the department lurches ahead, possibly trying to fol- low Sputniks and Explorers in their headlong courses above. Notwithstanding the absence of astronomy majors in the class, the astronomy department is far from idle. In addition to those students of introductory astronomy who always seem to find out that the second semester is much harder than the first, bemused liberal-arts students come to the spacious observatory classroom on Mondays to learn of Kepler, Newton, Faraday, and Einstein, and bemused physics students come on Tues- days to learn of those more recondite deities, Navier- Stokes and Sturm-Liouville. The octagonal library, reminiscent of a polyhedron from Diirer ' s Melencolia, IS filled with a peaceful solemnity, where Louis Green ' s tall benign figure intrudes apologetically from time to time to examine the latest copy of the Astrop iysical Journal, replacing it quickly so as not to nip in the bud the aspirations of any future astronomy major. The bewildering array of courses required of a major in physics takes its toll. After four years, the two physics majors m the Class of 1958, a smaller and perhaps less representative group than most, are es- caping back into the less abstract world of the humani- ties, where life seems more tangible and possibly even more genuine. But on occasion the luckless ones drag themselves back to the gloomy dungeons of Sharpless, to their bubbling vats of liquid nitrogen and to their ghoulishly shrieking 600-cycle square waves. For these tortures are as nothing compared to those which are to come. . . . Twenty-two

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ENGINEERING CLAYTON W. HOLMES THEODORE B. HETZEL NORMAN M. WILSON HiUes Laboratory, home of the Micrometer Men, appears to one as a building both low-down (with respect to height) and removed (with respect to the gravel road in front of it.) These features, however, by no means symbolize the quality of Haverford ' s engineering facilities, faculty, or students. Hilles is a huge building, though, and while its basement machine shops remain the sacred and unchallenged domain of the micrometer men, its ground floor (especially Room 2) is invaded by such non-electrical disciplines as economics, Quaker philosophy, and history of art. The engineering majors admittedly do not emerge after four years with cither the breadth or depth of knowledge of M.I.T. graduates. Their proficiency should not be underestimated, however, for one must consider Haverford ' s liberal arts orientation and the comple.xities and accomplishments of modern earth-satellite-era engineering. Clayton Holmes, chairman of the department, is a typical gruff New Englander whose crisp and full New Hampshire accent would un- doubtedly carry even from a sputnik. Professor Holmes specializes in mechanical engineering ( this problem is simply elementary fourth- grade thermodynamics ) and in scheduling classes at the unholy, un- popular, and unforgettable hour of eight in the morning. A very good craftsman, he conducts each winter the non-academic course in cabinet- making. Theodore ( Ted ) Hetzel is a quiet and shy man, and rarely tells tall tales, pardner, despite his affinity for Western-style, rancher-cut clothes. He teaches with patience and precision ( don ' t forget about the bridge that collapsed because the engineer misplaced a decimal point ), but out of class is usually seen rushing about, perhaps in a ti;-y because of his unique worries (water fights, festive nights, students ' rights) as chairman of the student afi airs committee. During autumn Saturday afternoons he may be seen at the soccer field, braving the cold and windy weather, and beaming with fatherly pride as he photographs his swift-footed son, Hennic Het;el ' 60. Professor Hctzel is responsible for sundry photographs appearing in this journal. Norman Wilson may be described as truly a craftsman ' s craftsman — a man equally at home photographing Biblical pottery, repairing a Cadillac transmission, cleaning a rifle, or demonstrating the fine points of machine and lathe technique to his first-year students. A man of patience, humor, and generosity, Wilson advises and helps all students with electrical or construction problems, and devotes many an afternoon to teaching non-academic courses in photography and metal work. Dur- ing the 1957-58 academic year he also assumed the duty of chairman of the arts and services program. TH ' e.ity- oiir