Herbert B. Voelcker

This morning, in the middle of the first online lesson for two of the groups of our service-learning subject (the teams that we are taking to Cambodia and Rwanda), I received the news that Prof. Herbert B. Voelcker, my PhD thesis supervisor at the University of Rochester, had passed away, at the age of 90.  

I wanted to stop to digest the news.  But I had to continue and finish the lesson.  Now that I have some time to reflect on it, it actually seems apt.  Prof. Voelcker came into my life as my teacher, the news of his departure now came while I am passing on what he taught me. 

He taught me, of course, how to do research.  But he also taught me much more.  Foremost is to be neat and tidy in everything you do.  He can make line drawings almost as if using a ruler; and I can almost do that too.  The engine of his boat was sparklingly clean, like it was new.  When he read my thesis, he placed it squarely on his desk, with his fountain pen lined up in parallel.  His handwriting was clean and tidy.  His research was very systematic, but he can also be bold and unconventional.  He once bought a machine which was too big for the door and too heavy for the elevator in the building.  He dug a huge hole in the ground, used a crane to lower the machine into the hole, cut a door in the side of the building, and moved the machine into the basement.  Our main laboratory was on the top floor of the building.  He once put a picnic table outside our window, on the roof of the building, and made a step ladder so that we can walk out through the window.  It gave us a panoramic view of the campus while having lunch. 

He set high expectations for us his students.  But he was also kind, generous and encouraging. I was very anxious when I broke an expensive cutter on the machine.  Yet what he said was only to look forward.  He was generous in giving advice; yet he left us to decide what to do with our career.  The evening before my first conference presentation, he made me rehearse in front of him one last time in his hotel room.  He was very busy; yet he always found time for me when I needed him.  I also remember his Spring wine parties.  And his cigar.  Now I find myself practicing many of the things I learned from him, minus the cigar.  

Decades later, when our youngest daughter went to Cornell University, Prof. Voelcker was there, this time approaching retirement.  Prof. and Mrs. Voelcker took great care of our daughter.  It also gave us a good opportunity to re-connect.  

We shall remember you fondly, Prof. Voelcker.