This a continuation of my previous post .
As I said before, the Doss's were apolitical. I tried consoling them after the Six Day War, in June of 1967, but got nowhere. Years later, after they became American citizens, I found out why: Raouf said that, being Egyptian citizens, they felt humiliated by what had happened (even though they obviously had nothing to do with the events, far from it), but now that they had become American citizens, that blot had been removed from their record. I believe that Suzette, during her citizenship quiz (in those days you had to pass a quiz), had trouble remembering the name of the Chief Justice of the United States (Warren Burger ) She was prompted with the hint: "Think of something to eat."
My last academic year at Stony Brook was 1969-70. I was up for renewal, and Raouf was my biggest backer among the faculty who had a say in such things. Unfortunately, he was in the minority. (I could have stayed for one more year, but I chose not to.) There were a number of Jewish mathematicians in the department, including the chairman, several heavy hitters, and of course me. In early Spring, after I had been informed of my non-renewal, I said to Raouf that I wished we could have "Passover-in-Reverse" in the department that year. He asked what I meant by that , and I said, "Do away with the Jews and spare the Egyptians." Raouf was not at all amused by my joke.
I joined the faculty of Wayne State University in Detroit in the Fall of 1971, and a year or so later, Doss was invited to give a colloquium talk. I planned a party at my apartment in his honor, and I told him I had invited an Egyptian woman who was a neighbor of one of my colleagues. I also mentioned that she was very good looking, to which Raouf responded, "That's impossible." He didn't seem very keen about my having invited her, and later I found out why. He thought that her (presumably Egyptian) husband would also come, and that then he would have to talk politics. I can't remember whether or not her husband came, but in any case he was American, not Egyptian. As for my pronouncement about her looks, Raouf agreed and said something to the effect of "I will have to tell Suzette."
Raouf was a number of years older than Suzette, and one day we were discussing the fact that a husband is usually older than his wife. Ever the mathematician, Raouf said that he had a formula for what the optimal age difference should be. I don't remember the details of the formula, except that when he applied it to his and Suzette's ages, it didn't fit. That gave us a laugh.
(to be continued)
Friday, November 2, 2007
Raouf Doss
One of the nicest people I ever met was Raouf Doss. I came to the Mathematics Department at SUNY Stony Brook in 1966 as a new Ph.D., and he came as a full professor. He had taught at Cairo University since the 1940's, but he left in 1965 because of the uncertainties of life under the dictatorship of Gamal Abdel Nasser. He and his wife Suzette, who was of Lebanese origin, spoke, first, French, second, English, and, third, Arabic, when they didn't want their children (three in number) to know what they were discussing. He was a Catholic Coptic, and in fact his cousin was a Cardinal.
Talk about a gentleman of the old school! He always lectured in a suit and tie, and he had impeccable manners. There was, of course, a certain amount of culture shock. At the first departmental party they hosted for a visiting mathematician, a lot of people congregated in the kitchen, which shocked Suzette, who exclaimed "In Egypt, only the servants are in the kitchen!" (At that party, one of my colleagues almost succeeded in toppling over one of the Doss's large, and expensive, vases. "I've heard about this happening, but I've never actually seen it done", he quipped.) Another time, for a block party, Suzette fixed falafel, and was a bit miffed when the neighbors complimented her on the Israeli food. I believe her thought, unexpressed, was "Not only are they taking over the territory, they are also taking over the food!" (To be sure, The Doss's were apolitical.) Another time, after the Six Day War, Raouf was eating falafel in an Israeli restaurant in Manhattan when someone approached him about buying an Israeli war bond. He replied that he just came there for the food.
I believe the first impression I made on them was when I shovelled snow from their driveway after a storm. Raouf later exclaimed, "We didn't even know you." We became fast friends, and they adapted to their culture shock. One of my favorite stories is about how they told their children not to have any parties in the house when they went on vacation at their apartment in Paris. Their children heeded their instructions to the letter, and they had their party on the back porch!
(to be continued)
Talk about a gentleman of the old school! He always lectured in a suit and tie, and he had impeccable manners. There was, of course, a certain amount of culture shock. At the first departmental party they hosted for a visiting mathematician, a lot of people congregated in the kitchen, which shocked Suzette, who exclaimed "In Egypt, only the servants are in the kitchen!" (At that party, one of my colleagues almost succeeded in toppling over one of the Doss's large, and expensive, vases. "I've heard about this happening, but I've never actually seen it done", he quipped.) Another time, for a block party, Suzette fixed falafel, and was a bit miffed when the neighbors complimented her on the Israeli food. I believe her thought, unexpressed, was "Not only are they taking over the territory, they are also taking over the food!" (To be sure, The Doss's were apolitical.) Another time, after the Six Day War, Raouf was eating falafel in an Israeli restaurant in Manhattan when someone approached him about buying an Israeli war bond. He replied that he just came there for the food.
I believe the first impression I made on them was when I shovelled snow from their driveway after a storm. Raouf later exclaimed, "We didn't even know you." We became fast friends, and they adapted to their culture shock. One of my favorite stories is about how they told their children not to have any parties in the house when they went on vacation at their apartment in Paris. Their children heeded their instructions to the letter, and they had their party on the back porch!
(to be continued)
Me and Jim Simons (II)
Jim Simons had a droll sense of humor. During my last academic year at Stony Brook, '69-'70, I made arrangements to go to Cuba during the Winter Break to help with their math program. The chairman had to write a letter attesting to my fitness for the job. This way I could get my passport endorsed for one round trip to Cuba. When I spoke to Simons about this, he told me about being debriefed by the IDA after a trip to Latin America. He said he told his interrogator that on his way back he stopped for a few days in Havana. The man quizzing him stiffened up, until he realized that it was a joke! I never made it to Cuba, but that is another story.
Another time, we were discussing in a departmental meeting what role students should have in running the department. Ever the mathematician, Simons decided to start with the first grade and work his way up. He said, "Well we can all agree that first graders should not be running the first grade," to which my good friend and fellow "warm body", Hugo d'Alarcao, a true Marxist if there ever was one, responded, "Why Not?"
I became friends with another mathematician, Barney Glickfield, as we worked in the same field. He was a very humorous fellow. He had taught at the University of Washington, but was job-hunting. At some math meeting, I can't remember which one, I arranged for him to have an interview with Simons. As Barney told it, the interview was very short.
Another time, we were discussing in a departmental meeting what role students should have in running the department. Ever the mathematician, Simons decided to start with the first grade and work his way up. He said, "Well we can all agree that first graders should not be running the first grade," to which my good friend and fellow "warm body", Hugo d'Alarcao, a true Marxist if there ever was one, responded, "Why Not?"
I became friends with another mathematician, Barney Glickfield, as we worked in the same field. He was a very humorous fellow. He had taught at the University of Washington, but was job-hunting. At some math meeting, I can't remember which one, I arranged for him to have an interview with Simons. As Barney told it, the interview was very short.
Simons: Are you fantastic?
Barney: No, but neither are you.
Simons: That's true, but I'm the Chairman
I didn't take well to my non-renewal. I sent out an announcement to some friends and former teachers that I had "Published and Perished". The mantra in academe, then as now, was "Publish or Perish." I could have stayed for the academic year '70-'71, but I decided instead to accept a visiting position at Kansas State University, arranged by my former teacher and good friend, Karl Stromberg.
So, in the summer of 1970, Hugo d'Alarcao, I, and another friend drove to the Southwestern U.S. At the end of the trip, they flew back to New York, and I made my way to KSU. On our way through Kansas, we stopped at Dodge City. I got a postcard with a picture of "Boot Hill", which Hugo and I signed and mailed to Simons with the inscription "Wish you were here!"
The last time I saw Simons was at an American Math Society meeting in San Antonio in 1980. He and Bill Thurston shared a prize, and they did an unintended comedy routine on stage. Simons made some funny remarks, one of which was just after he opened the envelope with the check for the prize money. He said something to the effect that, "Last night in New York before flying down here, I thought that it would be OK to tell some friends that I had won this prize, and I asked them, 'How much is it for? How much money?' And no one seemed to know." "I guess we'll leave that as an open question." he intoned, as he put the check back in the envelope.
After the Awards ceremony, I went down to the front of the auditorium, shook Simons' hand and and congratulated him. He seemed a bit taken aback, I guess because of the "Wish you were here" business. But hey, he deserved the Award. It was for joint work with S. S. Chern, one of the greatest. And what are "warm bodies" for anyway, if not to be dispatched when the time comes?
I knew that Simons had gone into the money-making business in the early '80's and had eventually left mathematics (as a vocation, but not as an object of philanthropy), taking several other mathematicians with him. But I had no idea of the extent of his success until I read a recent article($) in the New York Times, stating that he had made $1.7 billion last year. I tried to get his email address (Fat chance of that! I could try "snail mail", but that's so, oh, Twentieth Century.) If I could send him an email message, here is what it would say:
Dear Jim:
Congratulations on being a mega-billionaire. Have you ever considered paying "reparations" to all those "warm bodies" you dispatched while building up the department at Stony Brook? (Just kidding!) Best wishes for continued success, and in the meantime, don't be a hedgehog.
Greg Bachelis
Me and Jim Simons
In his column($) in today's New York Times, Roger Cohen highlights Jim Simons as follows:
"At the top [of this year's list of the 25 highest paid hedge-fund managers, published by Alpha magazine], was James Simons of Renaissance Technologies with $1.7 billion.
Simons used to crack codes for the U.S. Defense Department before moving on. Good luck to him. It is clearly more lucrative to detect small pricing anomalies in the Polish zloty or penny stocks - piling into them with your clients' billions - than to ponder clandestine North Korean signals."
It is true that Simons worked for a time at the Institute for Defense Analysis (IDA) in Princeton, NJ, but it is more accurate to say that he was a Ph.D. mathematician, and a very good one at that. After leaving IDA, he became chairman of the Math Department at S.U.N.Y., Stony Brook, on Long Island. (Now the University at Stony Brook) I was an Assistant Professor there for four years after getting my Ph.D. in 1966. In those days Stony Brook was "on the make", and I, along with others, served as a "warm body", someone who could get the job done until being replaced by someone better. One thing they were lacking was a "name" chairman, which they kept trolling for.
Simons was interviewed in the Spring of 1968, and gave a colloquium talk. I introduced him as Professor James Simons of Princeton University, to which he responded "Forget the 'Professor', forget the 'Princeton'". At any rate, he was offered and accepted the chairmanship (The joke at the time was that we had a better than average chance of landing him, since he was at the moment unemployed!), and he succeeded in building up a very strong Department. A few anecdotes:
During my last year there ('69-'70) Simons had a big party for a famous speaker (who later won a Fields Medal, but as to his name I shall remain mum). At some point, I was asked to provide some "pot" so they could "turn on" [mum]. I lived nearby, and that being the Age of Aquarius, I had my little stash, so I complied with the request. The next day, one of my colleagues, who was definitely not of the "flower child" generation, and who was at the party, said he was shocked because his wife had been offered "some pot". I found this a bit ironic, since I had been the source of the cannabis. I believe I later cautioned Simons to be more careful about who was served what at his parties. After all, he was the Chairman!
As I said, I lived near his house. I was non-renewed in the Spring of 1970 (to be effective a year later). One day, before I was officially given the axe, he dropped me off at the house I rented, and he commented "Gee, that's a nice place. I hope we can keep it in the Department."
(More anecdotes to come.)
"At the top [of this year's list of the 25 highest paid hedge-fund managers, published by Alpha magazine], was James Simons of Renaissance Technologies with $1.7 billion.
Simons used to crack codes for the U.S. Defense Department before moving on. Good luck to him. It is clearly more lucrative to detect small pricing anomalies in the Polish zloty or penny stocks - piling into them with your clients' billions - than to ponder clandestine North Korean signals."
It is true that Simons worked for a time at the Institute for Defense Analysis (IDA) in Princeton, NJ, but it is more accurate to say that he was a Ph.D. mathematician, and a very good one at that. After leaving IDA, he became chairman of the Math Department at S.U.N.Y., Stony Brook, on Long Island. (Now the University at Stony Brook) I was an Assistant Professor there for four years after getting my Ph.D. in 1966. In those days Stony Brook was "on the make", and I, along with others, served as a "warm body", someone who could get the job done until being replaced by someone better. One thing they were lacking was a "name" chairman, which they kept trolling for.
Simons was interviewed in the Spring of 1968, and gave a colloquium talk. I introduced him as Professor James Simons of Princeton University, to which he responded "Forget the 'Professor', forget the 'Princeton'". At any rate, he was offered and accepted the chairmanship (The joke at the time was that we had a better than average chance of landing him, since he was at the moment unemployed!), and he succeeded in building up a very strong Department. A few anecdotes:
During my last year there ('69-'70) Simons had a big party for a famous speaker (who later won a Fields Medal, but as to his name I shall remain mum). At some point, I was asked to provide some "pot" so they could "turn on" [mum]. I lived nearby, and that being the Age of Aquarius, I had my little stash, so I complied with the request. The next day, one of my colleagues, who was definitely not of the "flower child" generation, and who was at the party, said he was shocked because his wife had been offered "some pot". I found this a bit ironic, since I had been the source of the cannabis. I believe I later cautioned Simons to be more careful about who was served what at his parties. After all, he was the Chairman!
As I said, I lived near his house. I was non-renewed in the Spring of 1970 (to be effective a year later). One day, before I was officially given the axe, he dropped me off at the house I rented, and he commented "Gee, that's a nice place. I hope we can keep it in the Department."
(More anecdotes to come.)
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