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I would like to honor Dave by recalling that, besides his universally recognized talents and accomplishments as a scientist, he was an outstanding teacher and mentor. In particular, when I think of my years as a graduate student in Dave's lab, there are two important lessons that immediately come to mind which I strive to apply to my professional life on a daily basis.
Lesson #1: Of all the scientists I have come to know through the years, Dave had an incredibly clear way of thinking and communicating his thoughts and ideas. When we would sit down to sketch out an experiment, it just seemed to flow from his mind to the paper in an effortless fashion. It was always immediately obvious exactly what he was thinking and how the experiment should be done. I remember the way he could give a "chalk talk" and lay out his stream of consciousness, with little to no erasures, in a manner that left no question as to the point he was making. When we were drafting abstracts or manuscripts, he had the facility to get me to write exactly what needed to be written, with an economy of words, in the first draft, with only minor editing in subsequent drafts.
Lesson #2: Many graduate students (dare I say most or all) at some point in their training reach a moment when it seems like things will never work, and that graduation day will never come. My own experience was no different. However, as long as the effort was there, one could always count on Dave's support, which sometimes included a judiciously administered "kick in the pants". It also sometimes included a fresh look at the problem and the willingness and flexibility to consider a new strategic approach. In addition, Dave's own personal experience with perservering and ultimately achieving success in the face of his incredibly difficult health challenges clearly put the trials and tribulations of being a graduate student into their proper perspective. Indeed, his example of perservering in the face of adversity has served as an ongoing inspiration to me that not only served the purpose back then, but has continued to serve its purpose these many years later.
On the humorous side, who (from the early 1980s era) can forget that old Saab station wagon he used to drive. That station wagon was kind of like a part of Dave's identity that he couldn't part with. If I remember correctly, what prompted him to finally get rid of it was when the engine caught fire. I guess at that point he had no choice. Anyhow, I actually had the pleasure/pain of driving it on several occasions to the Orient Point Ferry to pick up a shipment of chicks back when the lab worked on chickens. That was a harrowing ride. Imagine driving a wheazy old station wagon with a manual "3 on the tree" shifter and a rock hard clutch, with one hundred screamining, terrified, totally stupid chicks in the back. The air was thick with the odor of their excrement, which they liberally donated. It also became dense with floating feather fragments. Of course the heater barely worked, so that in the winter it was impossible to open the windows to get some fresh air without risking freezing myself, but more importantly.......the birds. Dave didn't seem to care much what was happening to the inside of the car, as long as it kept running.
David Gordon
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