With Gratitude

A few days ago as we found a few minutes to take a break, the subject of Dr. James Van Allen came up. I don't remember why it began now, but the foreign students were not familiar with the man, but knew about the campus building which bears his name.

Much has been written about Dr. Van Allen and his work in physics. When I was young I was fascinated to realize that such a well-known man worked only 30 miles or so from where I was growing up. Of course, childhood fascination did not have the ability to grasp that a time would come in my life when Dr. Van Allen would actually touch my life in a very minor way.

When my son, Kirk was very young, he followed what seems to be fairly common trends in a young child's life; his interest in dinosaurs eventually took a back seat to interest in the heavens. I'm sure the Star Wars trilogy and other movies dealing with space, or aliens, or time travel was fantasized by many a young child. We told the children about Dr. Van Allen, we showed them the physics building on campus. Kirk wrote a letter to him, the text of which I don't remember now, but several days later a letter addressed to our boy came from the University of Iowa. We didn't think much about it, because the children routinely received letters asking for their participation in various studies.

When Kirk opened the letter, we were all astounded to see a hand-written letter from this world-renowned physicist, thanking our son for taking the time to write to him.
Kirk was thrilled. Come to think of it, we all were. Robert and I were amazed, astounded, gratified and humbled to think that Dr. Van Allen would take the time to write to a little boy, making him feel like the most important person in the world.

Things like that are never forgotten in a mother's heart. And, probably not in a father's heart, either, but I can't speak for those who are fathers.

Twenty years or more later, my patient list on one particular day had the name of one James Van Allen, age 93. There was a part of me that feared to enter the room. I was afraid to see the potential deterioration of this man. I wanted to remember him as a the brilliant physicist, not as an elderly person reduced to the travails of the aged.

I knocked quietly, then entered the room, introducing myself and explaining my reason for being there. Dr. Van Allen greeted me and let me begin my inspection of his arms and hands, looking for the place to take a blood sample. We talked about minor things, the idle chatter that makes people feel comfortable and non-threatened most of the time.

When the sample was drawn and I was finishing the necessary paperwork, I decided the time was right to say what was in my mind and heart.

"Dr. Van Allen, I have something to thank you for." And, I told him about the letter he'd written to my child so many years before. I told him I didn't expect him to remember, but I had always hoped to thank him for the kindness he had shown a small boy. I had tears in my eyes by the end of my little speech. I'm glad they didn't spill over, but if they had, I'd have shed them proudly.

I wish I could describe the smile that was on his face when I was done. I think he was surprised to hear my tale. His eyes twinkled and his grin will be with me forever. It was wonderful to be able to thank him.

A day or two later, Dr. Van Allen was moved from that floor to another area. And, in early August he crossed over into the Summerlands.

One thing I tell those people who are left behind is that their loved ones now have the pleasure of knowing the secrets and mysteries of the Universe when they cross from this world. I'm sure Dr. Van Allen knew far more of our Universe than most of us will ever know. I hope he is thrilled and delighted with all the new things he now knows in his life beyond this one.

Blessings of the Gods to you, Dr. Van Allen, and thank you for touching the lives of our family with your act of kindness.