It was the year 1988, and the American Nuclear Society had organized their annual conclave around the theme “50 years of Fission”. To highlight that theme, the meeting included a special panel session of 1930’s (surviving) members of the original “nuclear pioneers”, invited to reminisce and predict. Since I had organized a technical session, I got to attend the meeting. So, at the appointed time, I found myself seated in a huge ballroom with about 1000 other attendees, as Bertrand Goldschmidt, chairman, introduced the speakers and gave a brief summary of nuclear history well-known to most of us, followed by comments by the other panelists, those being Eduardo Amaldi, Mark Oliphant, Glenn Seaborg, Alvin Weinberg and Eugene Wigner. In fairness, it must be said that some of them were beyond the point of lucidity, but all-in-all I enjoyed the session. It was the events following the session that call for special mention.
After the panelists had finished their discourses and the session was declared closed, I watched in amazement as a mass rush descended on the panelists at the front of the room. It seemed that everyone wanted to obtain autographs on their copy of the session program. This struck me as astounding, because many of the attendees were themselves titans of the nuclear industry and I would have been satisfied to obtain autograph(s) from some of them. But, after a few minutes, I decided that if that was the thing to do, I might as well partake, so I entered a few line-ups and snagged autographs from most of the panelists, plus Les Cook, who served as AECL’s Research and Development Director of the Chemistry and Metallurgy Division at CRNL from 1945 to 1956.
Memorably, it was when I eventually reached the head of Wigner’s lineup, that things changed, because for some reason, he first focussed intently on me and then asked what did I want? “Your autograph please” I replied, at which point he asked who I was, where did I work and what did I do. I identified myself as working for AECL at Chalk River, and that seemed to animate him even more. Somehow, he got onto the subject of his contributions to science and I mentioned that I had a copy of his book “Group Theory and Quantum Mechanics”, (which I had intended to open for the previous twenty years, but had never got around to). He then asked what I thought of it, and at that point memory fails, because all I could think of, was that it had a dark blue cover. To this day, recollection of the remainder of the “interview” eludes me, but somehow I did depart with his autograph.
At some earlier time in the meeting, I had accidentally run into a member of AECL’s marketing team with whom I had a passing acquaintance and for some reason he decided to invite me to the AECL hospitality bash at the Canadian Embassy. Perhaps he thought it would be good public relations for scientific staff to be in evidence at an executive-type event, because AECL was pulling out all publicity stops at this meeting. The only condition was that I had to wear a tie.
Balancing the cost of a tie with the promise of free hors d’oeuvres, I sprang for a (very expensive) tie and showed up that evening, to be greeted by a reception line featuring the Chairlady of the AECL Board of Directors and my marketing contact. With a quick glance at my name-tag, identifying me as attached to AECL, but otherwise unknown and certainly not part of the Ottawa crowd, the illustrious lady gave a questioning glance at my contact- “who is he and why is he here?” Being a helpful sort, and not particularly well-versed in the ways of the C-suite, I answered the unspoken query – “Oh, I’m just a working stiff from Chalk River,” at which point I was treated to a tongue lashing about how hard she was working just by being there, what did I think she was doing everyday and why did I think I was the only one doing anything useful … among other things. Again, further memory eludes me, except that the canapés were great, and Canadian Embassy receptions are well-worth attending.
