I was born in Alice, Texas on August
23, 1933. My father was a Methodist minister, and my mother was
what we then called a housewife. I have a sister, Mary, who is
some years my elder. In those days, Methodist ministers moved
often, and as a child I lived in a succession of mostly small
towns in south Texas: Alice, Brady, San Antonio, Kingsville, Del
Rio, Brownsville, McAllen, Austin, then back to San Antonio.
During this time the church hierarchy recognized that my father
was an able administrator capable of organizing people to get
things done and gifted at resolving conflicts. From the time I
was about nine my father was no longer pastor of a church but
rather a supervisor of church activities over a district. This
was a great relief to me as I was spared being the center of
judgmental attention as the "preacher's kid."
By the time I reached adulthood my father was universally revered
as a fair, kind, and gentle man with an acute mind. His most
enduring monument will be the San Antonio Medical Center as he
worked hard and effectively to start the Methodist Hospital
there, which really started the center.
When I was nine years old, my parents gave me a chemistry set.
Within a week, I had decided to become a chemist and never
wavered from that choice. As I grew my interest in chemistry grew
more intense, if not more sophisticated. Of course there was no
chemistry in the school program until high school.
I was not a particularly distinguished student as a child. My
grades were good but obtained more by steady work than any
brilliance on my part. I vividly remember my father telling me
that one of my elementary school teachers had told him that I was
not brilliant but I was a steady hard worker. Somehow the further
I progressed in school, the easier it became to do well.
It was a great delight when I finally got to study chemistry in
high school. My teacher, Mrs. Lorena Davis, saw that I was keenly
interested and did her best to foster and nourish that interest.
As only one year of chemistry was offered then, I had no formal
course in the subject to take my final year in high school. Mrs.
Davis offered me special projects to satisfy my appetite for
chemistry. I remember most constructing a Cottrell Precipitator.
I was shocked to see Mrs. Davis, who didn't smoke, light up a
cigarette and blow smoke into the precipitator to demonstrate
that it worked.
When it came time to choose a college, I got interested in Rice
Institute. It had an excellent reputation as being a good school
for a dedicated student. I was also impressed by how well its
football team was doing. My parents loved my choice because at
that time Rice charged no tuition, and they would have been hard
pressed to send me to a university that did. While my father held
the highest administrative office, not counting the Bishop, in
the Southwest Texas Conference, he did not make much money.
At that time there was a high failure rate at Rice. With no
tuition, students were expected to prove themselves worthy or
make way for someone else. However, I was ready for the challenge
that Rice presented and prospered academically. Socially, my
fellow students were ready for the challenge that I presented and
worked hard to convert a rather straight-laced, serious boy into
someone they could stand to be around.
By a quirk of fate, the most colorful professors I encountered in
my first years taught subjects other than chemistry. I liked my
first and second year chemistry professors (in fact I later
developed a closer relation with my second year professor, John
T. Smith), but they were not particularly colorful. It was not
until my third year when I had John E. Kilpatrick for Physical
Chemistry and George Holmes Richter for Organic Chemistry that
the chemistry department began to pull ahead in the colorfulness
race. John Kilpatrick came to class, sat in the middle of the
table in front, lit a cigarette, took an enormous drag, and began
to speak. No smoke came out! Richter enlivened his lectures by
describing the pharmacological effects of various organic
chemicals. Richter was a fine teacher of Organic Chemistry, but
that was of little use to me since I had an almost unnatural
aversion to Organic Chemistry. Kilpatrick was the most welcoming
to students of any person I ever encountered with absolutely no
regard for the amount of time he spent with a student. This,
happily for him, made the time he devoted self-limiting, because
I would think about whether I had an hour or two to spare before
dropping by to see him.
The most impressive chemistry teacher I had was Richard Turner,
whom I first encountered in a senior Natural Products course.
(The curriculum was cleverly constructed so that it was
impossible to avoid a second encounter with Organic Chemistry.)
It was his enthusiastic discussion of barriers to internal
rotation and the pioneering work of Kenneth Pitzer in the area
that made me resolve to go to University of California, Berkeley, and work
with Pitzer. This is a decision I have never regretted.
While I was at Berkeley, Pitzer was the Dean of the College of
Chemistry and a very busy man. Nevertheless he was always
completely accessible to his graduate students, and always
genuinely delighted to see me when I interrupted his work. When
our conversation reached its conclusion, he graciously got me out
of his office. I was grateful for this as well because at the
time, as you can see from my comments about visiting John
Kilpatrick, I had trouble with leave-takings. I think that I
received an excellent education in how to do research from
Pitzer. The most important work I did at Berkeley was on Pitzer's
extension of the Theory of Corresponding States. Over the years,
I have remained in contact with Ken and Jean Pitzer. Indeed, we
were able to collaborate again in research some years later when
he was president of Rice University.
My years at Berkeley were some of the happiest of my life
primarily because it was during this time that I met and married
my wife, Jonel. Our union seemed pre-ordained when we discovered
that our ancestors came from the tiny town of Center Point, Texas
(pop. 300).
At that time, there seemed to be an unwritten rule that Pitzer's
students should do experiment as well as theory. This suited me,
because I had always been interested in experiments. Pitzer
suggested that I investigate the matrix isolation infrared
spectrum of disiloxane in order to establish whether the SiO-Si
bond was linear or bent. If I had tried to do these experiments
involving liquid hydrogen without help, I believe there is a good
chance an explosion would have resulted. However, a fellow
student, Dolphus Milligan, helped me tremendously with these
experiments and with his aid I was able to collect the necessary
data, which indicated that Si-O-Si is somewhat bent from
linearty.
Pitzer was able to help me get a post-doctoral position with E.
Bright Wilson at Harvard. At that time, Wilson had developed a method
for measuring barriers to internal rotation using microwave
spectroscopy and I was still interested in internal rotation
barriers. It seemed a perfect situation. I enjoyed Harvard
scientifically. Wilson's personality was very different from
Pitzer's. Although he was born in Tennessee, he personified the
New England virtues of upright integrity and serious concern
about all aspects of life. His disapproval of superstition in all
forms was well-known; none of us would dare mention in his
presence the gremlins we all suspected inhabited his microwave
spectrometer. Wilson above all was a fine, decent, caring person
who wanted the best for his students.
The atmosphere in Mallinkrodt Laboratory at Harvard was somewhat
different from that of Lewis Hall at Berkeley. Perhaps it was
because the graduate system and expectations for graduate
students were different. At that time, a student was expected to
complete his Ph.D. at Berkeley in three years while at Harvard it
took many students five or even more years. Compared with the
laid-back Berkeley graduate students of my day, Harvard students
seemed intense and often eccentric. The big exception was
Dudley Herschbach, who was
modest, relaxed, and friendly, and the most brilliant intellect I
had encountered in someone my own age.
In those days faculty hiring was done with few formalities.
Somewhat out-of- the-blue, I got an offer to come back to Rice as
an Assistant Professor. The prospect of returning to a warm
climate and familiar surroundings full of many happy memories was
delightful and with no negotiations I happily accepted.
I inherited George Bird's graduate students and his microwave
spectrometer, which was more sensitive than Wilson's. Of these
two strokes of good luck, Bird's students proved the greater
treasure. My very first student was Jim Kinsey. He accomplished
so much in the first year that I was at Rice that he graduated.
The work we did together on the microwave spectrum of
ClO2 and the treatment of fine and hyperfine structure
set me up for a productive period of studying the spectra of
stable free radicals.
I have remained at Rice from 1958 until today. In my professional
and research career, I have played a variety of roles and worked
in several areas of Physical Chemistry, too varied to describe
further. A great deal of my research has been collaborative
involving other principals both at Rice and elsewhere. I have
enjoyed quite a few very pleasant research associations over the
years. Outside Rice I have collaborated with C.A. Coulson, Roger
Kewley, Takeshi Oka, Ken Evenson, John Brown, Eizi Hirota, Shuji
Saito, Anthony Merer, Wolfgang Urban, Harry Kroto and Leon
Phillips. Among the Rice Faculty, I have enjoyed collaborations
with John Kilpatrick, Frank Tittel (for the last 25 years), Phil
Brooks, Rick Smalley, Graham Glass and Bruce Weisman. The Nobel
Prize in Chemistry was awarded to Rick Smalley, Harry Kroto, and
myself for the fruits of one of these collaborations, the
discovery of the fullerenes.
I must point out that we do not claim this discovery is ours
alone. James Heath and Sean O'Brien, who were graduate students
at the time, have equal claim to this discovery. Both Jim and
Sean were equal participants in the scientific discussions that
directed the course of this work and actually did most of the
experiments. The early experiments that Sean and Jim did not do
were carried out by Yuan Liu and Qing-Ling Zhang. At an early
stage, Frank Tittel became involved in this work. At a later
stage, F.D. Weiss and J.L. Elkind did the shrink wrap
experiments, which were among the strongest evidence for the
fullerene hypothesis.
From Les Prix Nobel. The Nobel Prizes 1996, Editor Tore Frängsmyr, [Nobel Foundation], Stockholm, 1997
This autobiography/biography was written at the time of the award and later published in the book series Les Prix Nobel/Nobel Lectures. The information is sometimes updated with an addendum submitted by the Laureate. To cite this document, always state the source as shown above.
Copyright © The Nobel Foundation 1996