A RENAISSANCE MAN

         Yesterday, I posted about my editorial career and working for Dr. Ruch. Doing that made me think about him and the part he played in my life way back when. He was the first highly educated person for whom I ever worked and quite possibly the main one. And, I was the first well-trained secretary they’d ever had in that position at the Primate Center. Previous secretaries had always been college graduates or doctoral students who knew how to type, but didn’t have a clue about being a secretary.

          The first time Dr. Ruch and/or his assistant director returned a letter all marked up and wanted me to mail it, I was horrified. My work was not only a reflection on me, but it was a reflection on them as well. I refused to mail it without retyping it so it was perfect (no computers back then, only Selectric typewriters and not correcting Selectrics either). The filing system was also a mess and by the time I left to give birth to AJ, I had totally reorganized the system which they continued to use for years and years.

          Anyway, enough patting myself on the back, let’s return to Dr. Ruch. I never did call him by his given name. I sometimes called him Professor or Boss, but never Ted or Theodore. Dr. Ruch was the first real gentleman I ever met, and was actually the last because society changed so much beginning in 1970. He was kind, charming, sincere, amusing and never ever got my last name correct. He also encouraged me to take advantage of the one free course per quarter to which my position entitled me…and I did.

Don't remember why this

was painted, but doesn't

he look regal

          I went back to work for Dr. Ruch in 1971 when John and I separated. He had been forced to retire from his position as director of the Primate Center when he turned 65. He was given an office upstairs and continued to work on his textbook there. Every morning, both when he was director and after he retired, my first task was to organize his desk. How he managed to find where he’d left off, I have no idea, but he wanted his desk neat and tidy. I did try to put it in some sort of order, but he was so messy it wasn’t easy. Not only that, but his handwriting was atrocious and he would continue sentences up the side of the page, across the top and around the entire thing. He also left out the middle of words. The medical dictionary and I became fast friends.

Every morning when he came in, a good hour after I arrived, he would always go into his office, remove his coat and put down his briefcase before coming back into my office to have a little chat. During those chats, I heard about how he grew up in Oregon. He was born in 1906. His father passed away and left his mother to raise him and his four siblings. She turned their home into a boarding house for students at the University of Oregon. In any case, the fact he had to have a good education was understood and as I wrote yesterday, he graduated from the University of Oregon in 1927, and received his masters from Stanford a year later. If my memory serves, all his education was funded by scholarships.

          Until his chats, I’d never heard much about Rhodes Scholars. It’s a great honor to be chosen as one. I don’t know about then, but I believe only 16 US citizens are chosen each year. To be chosen, you have to meet some rigid criteria and Dr. Ruch definitely did. Anyway, a Rhodes Scholar is an international postgraduate award for students to study at the University of Oxford. It was established in 1902, two years before Dr. Ruch was born, by Cecil John Rhodes, an English businessman and politician. He created the award to promote unity between English-speaking nations and instill a sense of civic-minded leadership and moral fortitude in future leaders in their respective and varied fields.

He told me about his time in England, his time at Yale and shared many amusing stories about his family, friends and fellow scientists. To this day, I cannot order in a restaurant without remembering the study he told me about that was done by someone in Boston. She, I think it was a she, took scrapings from beneath the fingernails of restaurant workers. In almost every case, she found fecal bacteria. It’s a wonder I ever eat something that I haven’t prepared myself; but based on her study, I probably have some under my nails as well. Whether it was his mother’s teachings, his time in England and/or in academia, he was above all a gentleman in his later years with me.

          When I knew him, he lacked the passion he most evidently had during his career, as evidenced by all his degrees and publications This was due to the heart attack that almost claimed his life in the early 1960’s. Until that attack, he smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish to use those old metaphors, or at least that’s what I was told by other academicians. His health, once he recovered, had to be his first priority. He no longer smoked and was allowed a single beer each evening…no more martinis, which I believe were his original favorites.

          I don’t remember the name of the beer company that used to put sayings or something inside their bottlecaps. Dr. Ruch would bring me ones he thought I’d find interesting. He also confused my name with a beer I never heard of, Kronenbourg. I don’t think he ever got my last name correct. If I wasn’t introduced as a beer, I was introduced as Carlsbad, Karlbergen, or something that began with a C or a K and sounded kind of like my name. I never knew if he got it wrong on purpose as kind of a joke or if he never could keep it straight.

          Dr. Ruch lived in a grand old house in Madison Park with a lovely garden that was his delight. He talked about his garden and gardening quite a lot. He planted snow peas every Washington’s birthday (2/22) without fail. And, it was quite a process. He dug a trench, put in mulch and manure, and mixed it all together before ever planting a single seed. Those peas though were quite good. And the flowers he grew were gorgeous. There was one lilium he grew and I wish I could remember the name, (Star of Persia maybe) but he brought me a couple of the flowers once they dried. The dried flower was huge, about the size of a cantaloupe and graced my bulletin board for a long time.

          I was fortunate to actually see his garden and only then because I was invited to a wedding. Dr. Ruch had an assistant who was like no one I ever met before or since. She wore designer clothes, was raised by her aunt in Boston and supposedly grew up with the Kennedys. (After her aunt came out for the wedding the Professor told me he thought her aunt was a servant in the Kennedy household, not the “friend” his assistant portrayed.) She thought I was beneath her deign because I didn’t have a college degree. For some reason, after Dr. Ruch’s second heart attack (more on that later), she became my best friend (in her mind maybe). Dr. Ruch and his wife hosted her wedding in his garden and I, with two other people at the Primate Center were the only guests from work.

Since she was much older, this woman became pregnant fairly quickly. Her closet was full of famous names but she asked if she could borrow my maternity clothes, all of which I had made my very own self, because she couldn’t find anything she liked. That was the last time I ever heard from her. She never returned the “borrowed” maternity clothes and I’m glad I cut off all the sterling silver buttons I’d sewn on a blouse…those buttons were a gift from a friend who had purchased them in Germany.   

          Now, to Dr. Ruch thanking me for saving his life. I’ve never had anyone do that either before or since. I came back from lunch one afternoon. He called me on the intercom and asked me to come into his office. His door was always locked, so I let myself in. He was sitting behind his desk with his hands flat on top of it. He said,

          “I believe I’m having a heart attack. I need you to call my cardiologist. Tell them not to send a gurney.”

          I went to my desk and placed the call, providing his instruction, which, of course they ignored. I returned to his office and asked if there was anything I could do. He gold me no, he’d just sit there and wait.

          His assistant director was upstairs so I went to tell him what was happening. He was a rather excitable fellow and didn't disguise his annoyance at being interruped, but I insisted. Once I told him, he made to dash down the steps to go to his boss’ aid. This was the last thing Dr. Ruch needed, so I stopped him from doing just that and cautioned him to be calm. By the time we returned to the office, the gurney and medical staff were there and Dr. Ruch was soon wheeled away.

          Dr. Ruch was in University Hospital for some time. I cannot now remember how long, but it was while he was there that he asked me to come see him and thanked me for saving his life. I hadn’t realized it was as serious as it apparently was. Good thing too or they might have needed two gurneys…an additional one for me and the baby I was carrying. He did return to his post as Director shortly before I left to give birth to AJ.

          As I said yesterday, it was 1973 or 1974 when I left Dr. Ruch. He went on to retire completely from the University of Washington in 1976. He and his wife moved to Santa Barbara which is where I think their daughter lived. He returned once after that and we met for lunch at the Northlake Tavern. He ordered an onion pizza which I found amazing…and quite good actually. He sent his leftover portion home with me.

          My last correspondence with Dr. Ruch was in 1980 when he sent me a copy of Volume I. He passed away in 1983 at the age of 77…the same age as John was. Amazingly, when I tried to find information about him on the internet to reinforce these memories, there was none to be found that didn’t deal with his work in physiology, in particular the textbook. There were other citations about his work on the brain and neural function which was his field, as well as publications having to do with the health of laboratory primates.

I found it rather surprising I could find so little about this remarkable man that wasn’t associated with the textbook. To me Dr. Ruch was extraordinary, the only what I would call a renaissance man I ever knew. He graced my life with his gentle humor, kindness, knowledge and affection. I’m forever grateful for the years I spent as his “secretary-editor-friend.”