An Honorary Diploma from Washington High School

Linus Pauling holding his honorary high school degree, 1962.

“My early education in Oregon was outstandingly good. My father, who died when I was nine years old, had recognized that I had an unusual interest in reading and in obtaining knowledge. It is my opinion that the many excellent teachers I had contributed very much to fostering this interest. I remember in particular several teachers at Washington High: Miss Pauline Geballe, who taught me my first course in science; William Greene, who taught me my first course in chemistry and gave me special instruction during the following year; and my several teachers in mathematics. I feel that my early education in Oregon was outstandingly good.”

-Linus Pauling, 1962.

Sunday’s historic commencement here at Oregon State University got us to thinking about the conferring of a different degree many years ago. Although Linus Pauling received honorary doctorates from some of the most prestigious universities in the world, it was not until 1962 that he received his twentieth degree, a high school diploma, from Washington High School in Portland, Oregon. As noted previously on the Pauling Blog, the 45 year gap between senior year and diploma was due to a regulation that forbade the young Pauling from taking two courses in American history during the same term, ultimately preventing him from graduating in June 1917.  However, at the time Oregon Agricultural College accepted students who had not graduated from high school, so off Pauling went to Corvallis and, eventually, a long and storied life in academia.

The idea to award an honorary high school degree to Pauling was initiated by Jerry Ross, a journalist for The Washingtonian newspaper at Washington High School. Ross attended a press conference given by Pauling on May 4, 1962 at Portland State College in which Pauling talked about his childhood, mentioning that he was a former student at the high school but not a graduate. Ross reported this information to Harold A. York, the principal at Washington, prompting York to write to Pauling about the issue. In his letter, York exclaimed

We have taken steps to correct this embarrassing action. Washington High School is intensely proud of the fact that you are numbered among its most illustrious former students.

Along with the note, York enclosed the honorary diploma, a copy of the school paper, a copy of Pauling’s high school transcript and a commencement announcement coupled with tickets to the exercises. York made sure to point out that the old Washington High School had burned to the ground in 1922 – it was rebuilt as a brick building in 1924 – and most of its records were destroyed, which may be the reason why Pauling’s transcript appeared to be incomplete.

York likewise invited Pauling to that year’s commencement exercises as the honored guest, to be held on Wednesday, June 13, 1962, in the Benson High School auditorium. He also asked if Pauling would take a picture of himself looking at his diploma for publication in the school paper. (Pauling did so, as evidenced above.)

In response Pauling expressed his appreciation for the honor, especially as he was the first and only honorary graduate of Washington High School. “I am happy to be a member of the graduating class of 1962,” he wrote, “and I send my regards and congratulations to the other members of the graduating class.” He then apologized for being unable to attend the ceremony due to a previous speaking engagement but noted that he would never forget the school and his many exceptional teachers, and promised that he would pay a visit at a later date.

Following Pauling’s acceptance of the honorary degree, The Washingtonian published an article with the headline, “Dr. Pauling is 1962 Grad! Worldly Physicist Gets Only Honorary Washington Degree.” Reporter Jerry Ross opined in the article that the high school diploma seemed justifiable since Pauling had shown that he was certainly capable of post-high school caliber work.

The New York Times also published a brief article, emphasizing that Pauling “finally received a high school diploma.” More thoughtfully, the Meriden (Connecticut) Record commented on the story with an editorial of its own. In “Belated Diploma,” published July 2, 1962, the newspaper suggested that

the lessons may not have been the ones in the prescribed high school textbooks, and then again they may. But the concern for people in society, their freedom, safety and well-being has been Dr. Pauling’s distinguishing characteristic….He has made the rest of us think, and forced us to face our own responsibilities a little more squarely in this matter, too. Clearly, this is social studies at its best, considerably above the high school level. Dr. Pauling did it the hard way, but he has surely earned his diploma.

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Washington High School

Washington High School building, Portland, Oregon. Image courtesy of Washington High School.

The history of Washington High School dates back to 1906, when it first opened its doors to students. The school was originally called East High School, but changed its name to Washington three years later. Located at SE 14th and Stark in Portland, Oregon, the school merged with Monroe High School, an all-girls school, in 1977.

Washington-Monroe High closed in May 1981 due to declining enrollment, after which time the building was used for administrative purposes in hopes of it one day becoming a community center once more funding became available. In addition to the Portland Public Schools administrative offices, in its later incarnations the old school hosted a daycare center, a continuation high for pregnant girls, a “vocational program for Indian youth,” and a segment of Portland’s special education students.

Portland Parks purchased Washington High School’s west field in 2004 and a few years later tore down the high school’s gym and cafeteria. Once the buildings had been demolished, it took another five years to secure the funds to draw up plans for a new facility. In an article published in The Portland Mercury on August 20, 2009, neighborhood association member Kina Voelz described the collective dream for the space, which might entail everything from a photography studio to a rooftop garden on top of the new building. “There’s been all kinds of wish-list discussions about this in the neighborhood for years,” Voelz said. Various developers later made offers to turn the space into condominiums and commercial buildings, but as the economy has tightened interest in the site has withered.

In the meantime, the space has been used in conjunction with Portland’s Time-Based Art Festival and with the City Repair Project’s 2011 Earth Day event. Recent reports also indicate that Portland Public Schools has selected Venerable Development to move forward to the next step in a selection process for development plans that would include housing as a main component. It is also expected that Venerable will be in contact with Portland Parks and Recreation, exploring their options for providing the long-desired community center.

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Pauling’s Return

Linus Pauling reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, Washington High School, Portland, Oregon, 1966.

The 1959 edition of the Lens, Washington High School’s yearbook, was dedicated to Linus Pauling, describing the professor as one who “personifies our highest ideals.” Published two years before Pauling’s honorary diploma, the first page of the yearbook featured a picture of Pauling along with a brief write-up about why he was chosen for the yearbook dedication. The yearbook further mentioned that Pauling learned the fundamentals of chemistry at W. H. S. under the direction of William V. Green, a Harvard graduate and former Lens adviser.

Seven years later Pauling made good on his promise of one day returning to Washington High School when he attended its 60th anniversary celebration on February 22, 1966. Former administrators, faculty and students were welcomed back for this event, which was held in the school auditorium. “Memories of School Days” was the theme of the evening, one which included messages from alums and small group conversations organized by year of graduation.

Pauling delivered a talk at the event, speaking on the “foolhardy aspect of brinkmanship in a nuclear age and implor[ing] young people to think as individuals.” He also met with physics and science seminar classes, signed autographs and was photographed alongside Principal York.

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Washington High School has done a nice job of documenting its history online.  For more information on Linus Pauling’s alma mater, check out this website, which features memoirs, digital archives, photo albums and a detailed history of the school.

Spitzer: The Aftermath

Ralph Spitzer.

[Part 3 of 3]

Following the dismissal of both Ralph Spitzer and L. R. La Vallee, one newspaper described Oregon State College as “a battle ground” for the heavily debated topic of academic freedom. The newspaper explained that in the minds of many people, any alliance with the party of Henry Wallace was synonymous with being a communist.

Meanwhile, OSC President August Strand’s vague rationale for having dismissed Spitzer and Strand continued in his address to the college’s Faculty Committee.  In this talk, dated February 23, 1949, Strand hinted through his word choice that the duo’s discharge was politically based.

Specifically, Strand said that Spitzer’s dismissal was not motivated by his Progressive Party membership, but rather because he had followed the Communist party line through his support of an untenable scientific thesis, the Lysenko theory of genetics, which de-emphasizes the role that genetics plays in heredity and, in simple terms, suggests that environmental factors are more prone to shaping individual characteristics. While Lysenko’s work was focused mainly on agriculture, the Soviet apparatus used his thinking to forward the notion that life in a socialist state might cleanse the proletariat of certain bourgeois tendencies.

In his speech Strand also touched on the question of academic freedom, while at the same time asking a question of his own: “how about freedom from party line compulsion?”

The Oregon State College Daily Barometer, February 24, 1949.

Strand’s evidence for his assault on Spitzer’s alleged Lysenkoism was a letter published by Spitzer in Chemical and Engineering News in response to an H. J. Muller editorial claiming that science was being destroyed in the Soviet Union. Strand felt that the letter demonstrated Spitzer’s support for Lysenko, in deference to what he must have known to be scientific truth.

For his part, Spitzer found it ridiculous that he was being labeled a communist just for arguing on behalf of a Soviet scientific theory. He also felt that Strand’s statement proved that his dismissal was based on political grounds and was a clear infringement of academic freedom.

In a one-page typewritten statement, Spitzer made his case:

I did not support Lysenko in my letter; in any case, it is absurd to reason that agreement with a Soviet scientific theory is evidence of adherence to a party line….I did not stir up controversy, but rather commented on an editorial on Soviet genetics. The editorial was by a chemist, in a chemical journal, and was discussed by two other chemists in the same issue.

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On February 28, 1949, five days after the President’s address, Linus Pauling wrote a letter to  Strand, stating that he was “greatly disturbed” by the failure to continue the appointment of Dr.  Spitzer. Pauling wrote not only as a friend of Spitzer’s, but as a graduate of OSC, as president of the American Chemical Society (which declined to intervene in the case) and as a man involved in the educational system. Pauling also felt that it was his duty as an American citizen to take an active interest in politics and that Spitzer had a similar right and duty. Pauling concluded by urging Strand to reconsider his actions.

Pauling received a response from Strand on March 4, stating that the letter written by Spitzer in Chemical and Engineering News “showed beyond question that he was devoted to Communist party policy regardless of evident truth.” Strand continued, “How far need we go in the name of academic freedom? How stupid need we be and just how much impudence do we have to stand for to please the pundits of dialectical materialism?” Strand concluded by stating

If by this action, Oregon State College has lost your respect and support, all I can say is that your price is too high.  We’ll have to get along without your aid.

Pauling’s letter, as well as Strand’s stern response, were both published in the OSC newspaper, The Daily Barometer, and later reprinted in Chemical and Engineering News, but no direct action was taken.

Author Suzanne Clark, in her book Cold Warriors: Manliness on Trial in the Rhetoric of the West, wrote of what followed.

Spitzer defended himself vigorously, if with a degree of innocence about the growing power of those who would finally be enlisted to anticommunism. He pointed out that cases such as his own served to damage academic freedom in hundreds of invisible ways as faculty members learned to be afraid. Spitzer immediately turned to the AAUP on campus, which declared itself without jurisdiction, and asked the Appeals Committee of the OSC Faculty Council to investigate. He made four points: the head of the chemistry department was not consulted; the acting head had no complaints about his work; he had been promised a leave for a fellowship; and he had been promoted to associate professor.

But Spitzer’s attempts to save his job did not bear fruit. In a report on the Spitzer and La Vallee cases issued by the Faculty Committee on Reviews and Appeals, it was revealed that the desirability of reappointing Dr. Spitzer or of granting him a leave of absence during 1949-1950 had been questioned the previous October. Likewise, the decision not to tender reappointment was a culmination of various consultations on departmental, school, and institutional levels extending over the preceding several months, none of which officially pertained to political party affiliation. The committee concluded that President Strand acted entirely within his administrative rights and in the discharge of his official duties in the decision not to renew the appointments of the dismissed junior faculty members.

The final decision raised awareness among students at OSC, prompting editorials to be published in The Daily Barometer, urging students to get involved and understand the implications that such an action had on them. One student wrote,

It means that compliance to ‘accepted’ political thought is required of our college professors. It means that any person who disagrees with either Democratic or Republican party platforms is not a fit person to teach in this institution. It means that Dr. Einstein wouldn’t be allowed to teach our physics department since he has been active in supporting the Progressive Party. For the same reason, Dr. Linus Pauling, OSC graduate and present head of the American Chemical Society, would be considered unfit to teach here.

The conflict also led to national-level stories, including one written by John L. Childs in The Nation, titled “Communists and the Right to Teach.” Among other details, the article noted that a recent National Commission on Educational Reconstruction meeting had determined that “membership in the Communist Party is not compatible with service in the educational institutions of the United States.”

Spitzer and La Vallee both made one final return to OSC on May 26, 1949 to speak about “Your Stake in Academic Freedom.” The event was publicized on campus as “the story the Barometer didn’t print.”

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The debate over academic freedom raged on well into the 1950s and ’60s, and life after OSC for Ralph and Terry Spitzer was a bit of a challenge. Spitzer applied widely for academic jobs across the country, applications which invariably were met for an explanation as to the reasons for his departure from Corvallis.  Oftentimes these institutions also consulted with Strand, who only offered negative words on Spitzer.

Unemployment and passport controversies plagued Spitzer until he was eventually hired in 1951 by the University of Kansas City as a chemistry professor.  He and Terry later moved to Canada, where Ralph obtained an M.D.  The couple eventually settled in British Columbia where Ralph enjoyed a long career in medical research.

Ralph and Terry Spitzer, ca. 1970s.

For Pauling the Spitzer incident was a bitter pill and one that did damage to his relationship with his alma mater.  In a letter written to an OSC colleague in April 1959, Pauling summed up his feelings at the time

I wish that I could accept your invitation to me to participate in the symposium that you are planning, but I have decided, a number of years ago, that I would not return to the Oregon State College so long as the last word that I had from President Strand was his statement, published in the Barometer, that Oregon State would get along without me in the future.

And so it was that Pauling made no official visit to his undergraduate campus from 1937 to December 1966, when he returned to deliver an address on “Science and the Future of Man.” Pauling’s talk was delivered some five years after the retirement of August Strand from the presidency of what was, by then, known as Oregon State University.

Ralph Spitzer: The Firing

Ralph Spitzer receiving a certificate from the United States Navy, 1948.

[Part 2 of 3]

During Ralph Spitzer’s time as a professor at Oregon State College, he became increasingly interested in social problems, particularly concerning the atomic bomb.  In a letter, Spitzer informed his mentor Linus Pauling that ever since early September 1945, when Dr. George Kistiakowsky spoke to a group at Wood’s Hole about the atomic bomb, he had been devoting larger portions of his time and thought to social concerns.

Spitzer realized that his efforts were limited due to his lack of knowledge about international affairs and he began to think of ways in which he could make a bigger impact in order to “preserve peace and civilization.” One outgrowth of this was a visit to Reed College that may have been partly responsible for the formation of the Portland Association of Scientists.  Spitzer also planned to apply for a fellowship abroad in which he could study economics and philosophy, as well as physical chemistry.

The 1948 presidential election was likewise beginning to play a large role in Spitzer’s life as he became an active supporter of Henry Wallace. In Spitzer’s view, “a whopping big vote for Wallace, whether he wins or not, would serve notice that our bipartisan foreign policy of preparing to win the next war was not what the American people wanted.” It was at this point that Spitzer asked Pauling to nominate him for the overseas fellowship, expressing his hope that he would be back home in time to participate in the presidential campaign.

Pauling recommended Spitzer as “nearly an ideal man for such a job, combining as he does a sound understanding of the physical sciences and a keen interest in social sciences. He is just the sort of man that we must interest in the social sciences.” In Pauling’s estimation, Spitzer’s work was “characterized by unusually good common sense and insight.”

Unfortunately for Spitzer’s ambitions, August Strand, the President of Oregon State College at the time, disagreed.

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Ralph and Terry Spitzer, April 1949.

On February 8, 1949, Strand called Ralph Spitzer and his wife Terry, an undergraduate, into his office. The purpose of this summons was to inform Spitzer that his contract would not be renewed because “he had become much more interested in ‘other matters’ than he was in teaching chemistry.” Ralph Spitzer, thirty years old at the time, was told that there was no question of his ability and that he was not delinquent in his duties to the chemistry department.

Terry’s presence was necessary because Strand was also there to tell her that the Progressive Party group on campus, of which Terry was a member, would have to cancel their scheduled meeting on account of Strand’s disapproval of their guest speaker. The question had also been raised as to whether or not Terry, an outspoken activist and education student at OSC who influenced her husband’s views on progressive politics, was a greater threat to the campus than was Spitzer himself.

Within a few days, the story of Spitzer’s firing spread across campus and appeared in many regional newspapers. For its part, the OSC Appeals Committee fully supported Strand in his decision due to the fact that Spitzer was an Associate Professor and had not yet earned tenure. It was within the legal right of the President to refuse to renew Spitzer’s contract without any reasons given, just so long as political activity was not specifically identified as the cause for firing.

Spitzer promptly wrote to Pauling, detailing his experience of being called into Strand’s office. In his letter he emphasized that he was assured that there was no question of competency involved, and that he was not being delinquent in his duties to the chemistry department. Spitzer continued by encouraging Pauling to get involved, writing

I think if we can smash these attacks on academic freedom and out their democratic rights in the next few years, we can fight off fascism permanently. I am sure you are working hard on this problem and hope that it is possible for you to lend a little assistance.

Pauling responded that he was shocked to learn that Spitzer’s contract would not be renewed and added that he would do everything that he could to get to the bottom of the matter and to assist Spitzer. He also requested more information before writing to President Strand, making sure that he had the details of the incident clear. He would later write to Strand in Spitzer’s defense, specifying that he did not agree completely with Spitzer on questions relating to politics, but that he did support him in his right to hold his beliefs.

Oregon State College President August Strand, 1947.

Within days of the firing, stories were published with headlines reading, “Strand Lashes at Commie Professors” and “Dismissed Educators Just ‘Not Wanted,’ Says OSC Head.” In the first headline, “professors” refers to Spitzer and to an Assistant Professor of economics, Dr. L. R. La Vallee, who was also not given a reason for non-renewal of his contract, but was reassured that his academic work had been satisfactory.

So why did the President of Oregon State College essentially fire Ralph Spitzer and L. R. La Vallee? Initially Strand indicated that he did have reasons for the dismissal but that he would not make them public. “I don’t have to give them a statement,” Strand said, “because that is precisely what they want.”

As we will see however, a speech by Strand, editorials debating the issue and letters pouring into the President’s office prolonged the discussion, eventually revealing the motivations underlying August Strand’s actions.

The Story of Ralph Spitzer

Ralph Spitzer, 1948.

[Part 1 of 3]

Described by Linus Pauling as an “unusually able man,” Ralph Spitzer was a chemistry professor at Oregon State College (predecessor to Oregon State University) from 1946 – 1949. Spitzer met Pauling in 1937, when he was a senior undergraduate student at Cornell University, where Pauling was teaching at the time as a Visiting Lecturer. Pauling remembered Spitzer as being one of the few undergraduate students who showed much enthusiasm for his George Fisher Baker Lectures – which dealt principally with structural chemistry – and was impressed by the vast body of knowledge that Spitzer had accumulated at such a young age.

Spitzer was born on February 9, 1918, in New York City.  From boyhood his interests revolved around chemistry, physics and math. He entered Cornell in 1934, worked there in a qualitative analysis lab and was accepted into Phi Beta Kappa and Phi Kappa Phi, both widely respected academic honor societies. Spitzer graduated from Cornell in 1938 and moved on to graduate studies at Caltech, where he earned his Ph. D. in physical chemistry in 1941, studying heats of combustion and electron diffraction. As a doctoral candidate, Spitzer worked under Pauling’s immediate supervision for parts of his stay and under his general supervision for the duration.

The documentary evidence suggests that Pauling thought very highly of Spitzer, with whom he was often in contact regarding possible job and research opportunities. In one letter to the Fellowship Board in Oxford, Pauling wrote, “His work is characterized by unusually good common sense and insight.” Spitzer and Pauling also often ended their letters to one other by asking about their wives, children and overall well-being, an indication that their bond was founded on more than just science and employment prospects.

A glowing recommendation for Ralph Spitzer written by Linus Pauling, January 1946.

The correspondence between Spitzer and Pauling starts in July 1942, with a letter from Spitzer to Pauling regarding Spitzer’s unhappiness in Hampton, Virginia and his eagerness to work elsewhere.  Spitzer was especially interested to know if Pauling was aware of any availablities in California because he was not a fan of the East Coast weather. Oblivious to Spitzer’s climactic concerns, Pauling suggested that he work in a lab in Pittsburgh or look into a position at the Metallurgy Department of the University of Chicago.  Spitzer ended up accepting a job at the Oceanographic Institution in Wood’s Hole, Massachusetts.

In November 1944, Spitzer asked Pauling to sponsor his application for a National Research Fellowship, to be taken up when his war duties were over, to investigate, alongside Dr. Kenneth Pitzer at Berkley, the structure of cyclopentane by the measurement of gaseous heat capacities. Pauling was pleased to write in support of Spitzer, as he could recommend him highly as a result of their time spent together at Caltech.

Buoyed by Pauling’s recommendation, Spitzer received a letter from the National Research Council offering him a Fellowship for the year 1945-1946. He would be working at the University of California under the supervision of Professor Pitzer.

In the exchange that followed receipt of this news, Spitzer and Pauling deviated from their usual discussions of jobs and research opportunities and began addressing topics of politics and social responsibility.  In due course, Spitzer expressed his opinions on the atomic bomb in great detail, stating that the only solution, “that will not lead to a catastrophic armament race is to internationalize knowledge on atomic energy and demand, as a price for our sharing our knowledge, free access to laboratories and factories all over the world.”

In its midst, Spitzer apologized to Pauling for his political rant, noting that it was uncommon for him, but nonetheless continued, “Apparently the only one in public life who doesn’t feel that the Americans have a monopoly on brains in this matter and can come out on top in an argument race is Henry Wallace.” Spitzer concluded his letter by encouraging Pauling to get involved, pleading for younger and more vigorous men to take the lead if the matter was to be resolved anytime soon.  Pauling agreed completely about the overwhelming importance of the atomic bomb matter and opined that the only way to avoid an atomic war was through formation of a democratic world government.

Months later, the end of his fellowship in sight, Spitzer began showing interest in acquiring an academic job, telling Pauling to keep his name in mind if he happened to hear of anything. Coincidentally, Pauling soon received a letter from Oregon State College’s School of Science, asking for any ideas that he might have about individuals suitable to fill the position of Assistant Professor of Physical Chemistry.  OSC was particularly interested to know Pauling’s opinion of two specific men:  Spitzer and Cooley.

Pauling reacts to news of Spitzer's employment at Oregon State College.

Pauling wasn’t so keen on Dr. Cooley but described Ralph Spitzer as “a first-rate man.”  In due course, Spitzer was offered and accepted the job at OSC, thanking Pauling shortly thereafter for helping him to get the job. He began work in Corvallis on September 16, 1946, devoted full time to chemistry instruction, including elementary and advanced physical chemistry, as well as chemical engineering. He also taught advanced classes in chemical theory for graduate students.

Spitzer was pleased with the size of his new school, the small town and the quality of education.  In turn, Pauling was happy to have helped out a friend and was pleased to know that Ralph was enjoying his time in Oregon, alongside his wife Terry, who was an undergraduate student at the college. In the months that followed, Pauling continued to encourage Spitzer to do research at OSC, as he felt there were many great opportunities that lie ahead in his future at the school.  Little did either of them know that the situation would soon take a turn for the worse.

Pauling’s First Publication

The Student Engineer, Vol. XII, No. 1

“These tests show that Oregon cement is not inferior to California cement, nor, in fact, is it far excelled by any.  So it is not a hardship in this case to ‘Patronize Oregon Industries.’ The cement industry has come to stay.“

-Linus Pauling, 1920.

In December 1989, the Oregon State University Special Collections received a rather run-of-the-mill letter from Linus Pauling, who had donated his papers some three years earlier and was in the habit of regularly corresponding with the repository. In this letter, Pauling noted

In early 1920 I wrote a paper on the manufacture of cement in Oregon, published in The Student Engineer (Oregon Agricultural College) . . . I am sending the copy of The Student Engineer under separate cover.

Considering the fact that Pauling published over 1,100 papers during his lengthy and illustrious career, a publication such as this normally would not be given any special attention. However, it turns out that this short article – officially entitled “The Manufacture of Cement in Oregon” – is Linus Pauling’s first published work.

In 1920 Pauling was not your typical 19 year old. In normal circumstances, he would have been a junior at O.A.C. (now Oregon State University), but due to financial problems he was not able to return for his third year. Instead, he accepted a job offered to him by the college’s chemistry department (one that was unexpectedly short a few faculty members), and spent the year as a full-time assistant instructor in quantitative analysis – a course that he himself had taken only the year before. Despite his age, it was evident that Pauling’s academic maturity clearly had risen far above his peers. He quickly proved an able “boy professor.”

In the 1989 letter, Pauling provided further insight into his introduction to the science behind cement.

When I was about 14 years old, the Oregon Portland Cement Company built a plant at Oswego, Oregon. I spent the weekends in Oswego, where my grandparents lived. I immediately began to spend much time in the laboratory of the cement plant. The chemist was a man who was not very interested in chemistry, but who served as scoutmaster and who was willing to talk with me and to answer my questions.

It seems then that while many of his classmates were likely going to great lengths to avoid learning on a weekend, Pauling willingly spent his free time gobbling up new information from any source that he could find. Clearly, his passion for furthering his knowledge in any subject that caught his interest began very early in his life.

Linus Pauling, 1920.

(It is also worth noting that, overlapping his employment with the O. A. C. chemistry department, Pauling spent the better part of three years working off and on for the Oregon Department of Transportation as a pavement inspector – another example of an early practical application of his interest in scientific topics.)

Understandably, the time that he spent at the Oswego plant made Pauling very knowledgeable on the subject of how cement is manufactured, a fact that is immediately clear upon reading his article. The young author writes with authority on the subject, simplifying a process that is undoubtedly considered not-so-common knowledge. And although the processes involved are not as complicated as, say, the manner in which a protein configures itself into an alpha helix, the procedure requires a fair number of steps, all of which Pauling methodically describes with his signature precision and thoroughness – skills that he had begun to refine even in his adolescence.

Although Pauling’s first publication may not be his most interesting and is undoubtedly nowhere near his most prominent, its genesis is certainly a fascinating story.   Scans of the full text of this article are included below.

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A Sentimental Trip

Ava Helen Pauling, June 1981.

In the final months of 1981, Ava Helen Pauling was slowing down and making her final public appearances. She was spending as much time as possible with her husband and children, but encouraged Linus to stay busy and travel because of his difficulty dealing with emotional distress. She had been diagnosed with a form of inoperable cancer, and had decided against the use of chemotherapy.

According to his family, Linus Pauling was convinced that he would be able to save her through the use of vitamin C and other supplements. He was unable to talk about her final arrangements so preparations, including Ava’s memorial service preferences and her desire to be cremated, were discussed with her daughter Linda over a long weekend. After surgeries, a long term fight with cancer and a number of other medical complications, Ava Helen died in her home on December 7.

Following the death of his wife of nearly sixty years, Pauling was, understandably, quite lost. His children helped guide him through the funeral arrangements and Ava’s memorial service, andthough he gladly accepted their help, he was very resistant to other offers of assistance in the every day aspects of life. He stayed as busy as he could, and over the course of 1982 published three papers on the nucleus of the atom – a highly abstract program of work that afforded him some measure of escape from his grief.

He remained very lonely however, and was often lost in thought. According to those who knew him, Pauling was having trouble accepting the reality of his wife’s death. Biographer Thomas Hager wrote:

He still talked to her, holding phantom conversations as he spooned his vitamin C powder into his juice in the morning. He still looked for her, expecting to see her in the doorway, asking him to stop and take a walk, to come to lunch. He would cry and look out to sea. Then he would get back to work.

Though he was managing to get by under the circumstances, maintaining his health and taking care of himself during the following months, there remained a need for some kind of a mechanism that would allow him to deal with his grief. Just such an opportunity came in the form of his sixtieth Oregon Agricultural College class reunion. He decided to attend, and set off on what would become a long and meaningful journey.

Sixtieth anniversary reunion of the Oregon Agricultural College class of 1922.  Lucile and Linus Pauling are located second row from bottom, left.

His first stop was Dayton, Washington where he had worked for the Warren Construction Company in July 1923. He and his wife had spent a month there just after being married, and Pauling wished to revisit a number of locations that had meaning to the couple. He went to the intersection where the hotel they had stayed in once stood, and he walked around town and noted the place where Ava had outscored him on an IQ test they had taken.

The following morning he drove across the border into Oregon, visiting Arlington and then Condon, where he visited the grave of his grandfather Linus Wilson Darling for the first time. He spent the next day on the Oregon coast, seeking out former vacation and employment spots in Seaside and Tillamook, and then drove to Corvallis for a few days before attending his class reunion at Oregon State University.

The day after his reunion, Pauling spoke on the capitol steps in Salem, discussing nuclear weapons and the need for peace. He spoke later that same night, once again on peace topics, at the First Methodist Church in Portland. The next day he met with his sisters and a cousin to deliver to the director of the Oregon Historical Society the diaries that Linus Wilson Darling had kept in the late 19th century.

After lunch with his relatives he began his drive back home, stopping at a portion of highway along Grave Creek – he had spent five months in 1919 working on the highway there, sleeping in a tent near a covered bridge. At the time of his visit, the covered bridge was still in existence but the highway was partially destroyed, having been intersected by the construction of Interstate 5.

Pauling finally made it home two days before his wedding anniversary, having driven a total of 2,400 miles. It appears that the trip was just what he had needed, providing a frame of reference and partial relief from his loss. In a letter to an old friend, Pauling described his travels simply and decisively: “I went on this trip mainly to visit places where I had lived long ago.”

Linus Pauling, June 1982.

Following his return, Pauling decided to move out of the Portola Valley house that he and his wife had shared together. His youngest son Crellin moved in with his family, while Pauling bought a condominium on the Stanford University campus. He moved some of his belongings to his ranch at Big Sur, and others to Stanford. He decorated his new home with pictures of Ava and himself, framed awards, and furniture from their travels. The changes helped, but only to a degree. In September he wrote to his best friend, Lloyd Jeffress, “I am getting along pretty well, but I still feel quite lonesome. I have been working hard.”

Pauling became involved once again with his institute, and in early 1983 settled a lawsuit that had been consuming valuable time and resources. He spent half of his time at his ranch, and the other half in Palo Alto. He developed a routine, waking up before five in the morning, and reading himself to sleep at night after a full day of research and theory. Despite his loneliness, Pauling would live for another twelve years, continuing to pursue his scientific work, speak on world peace and manage his affairs.

Ava Helen in Oregon

Ava Helen Miller (third from bottom) with her seven sisters. 1918.

Ava Helen Pauling was born Ava Helen Miller on her family’s farm near Oregon City on December 24, 1903.

At the time of her birth, Ava had nine siblings. Her father had come to the northwest from Germany in his teens, and was an elementary school teacher in the Willamette Valley before becoming a farmer. As a result, Ava later remarked that, while growing up, there was a great deal of respect in her family for the teaching profession. Her mother was born in Beaver Creek, Oregon to parents who had come to the west by wagon and on foot from Illinois and Missouri.

Ava’s parents met while her mother was a student in her father’s classroom. Her parents eventually divorced when Ava was nine, having, at that point, had two more children together – a grand total of twelve altogether. Her father eventually settled in Chicago for a time and had little-to-no contact with Ava for most of her life. The farm was left to her mother, who finished raising the youngest children that still remained.  (Much more on Ava Helen’s ancestry is available here.)

The family later lived in Canby, Oregon, which is likely where Ava finished grammar school. Ava then attended high school in Salem while living with an older sister. She graduated in June of 1921, and enrolled at Oregon Agricultural College in Corvallis the following year.

During her time as an undergraduate student she took a great number of English, French and Spanish courses. She also took a chemistry class every term, as well as at least one course in physical education. Her home economics courses were more varied and included clothing and textiles, child care and food preparation and selection. Overall she did quite well, finishing with a 89.21 grade point average, and would have finished even higher had she not received an F in an English course during winter term of her freshman year.

Ava Helen Miller at the entrance to the Jason Lee Cemetery, Salem, Oregon. 1920.

It was, coincidentally or not, during that same winter term that Ava met Linus Pauling, as a student in his class. She later wrote of their initial encounter:

In recitation room #211. Chemistry O.A.C. He was my teacher – a student assistant. His curls are lovely.

Following their first meeting, it was some time before the two spent any more time together. An instructor had recently been severely criticized for the attention that he had paid to one of his students, and though Pauling was obviously quite taken with Ava from the beginning, he was determined not to endure the same fate.

One day, however, a note came back to Ava in her chemistry notebook stating that if she waited after class, Pauling would walk across campus with her. The two walked, and then went for more walks, becoming better and better acquainted over the following months.

By the end of the school year, Ava had written Linus a check for the amount of “My heart, my life, my love, my all.” The two wished to marry, but their mothers would not grant permission. Linus resumed working for the Oregon State Highway Commission the following summer while Ava stayed with her mother. During the summer Ava wrote Pauling at least 94 letters, receiving just as many in return.

Ava resumed classes at O.A.C. the following autumn and Linus began his graduate studies at the California Institute of Technology. The two continued to write each other throughout the next year. It is apparent over the course of their exchange that, though they missed each other greatly, both managed to stay well-occupied during their time apart. Linus was working intently on his crystallographic research while overseeing classes and labs. Ava was busy keeping up with friends and her sophomore year classes.

The two stayed close through their correspondence, and shared the daily workings of their lives. Ava sometimes sent Linus candy, and Linus sometimes sent Ava flowers. Above all however, they discussed the prospects of their marriage, and their eager anticipation of the time that they would be spending together in the future.

Ava Helen Miller and Linus Pauling with two O.A.C. classmates. 1922.

Ava and Linus decided to marry following the completion of Linus’ first year of graduate studies, with or without the permission of their mothers. From the perspective of the young couple, they had already been engaged for over a year. They began discussing the details of their forthcoming wedding, informed relatives and purchased their rings.

After waiting over a year longer than had initially been intended, Linus and Ava married in Salem, Oregon on June 17, 1923. The two would spend a brief honeymoon in Corvallis before moving to Portland over the summer. During those summer months, Linus worked for the Warren Construction Company. With the onset of autumn, the newlyweds returned to Pasadena, where Linus renewed his studies at the California Institute of Technology.

For more information on the Paulings in Oregon, check out our Oregon 150 series.

Pauling’s Failed Rhodes Scholarship Application

Linus Pauling, 1922.

“As to the Rhodes Scholarship, I probably was lucky not to get it, because I think conditions were better in Pasadena than in Oxford. The Oxford people were burned up too when they learned in 1948 while I was Eastman Professor there, that I had been turned down in 1922!“

-Linus Pauling, letter to Fred Allen, November 14, 1954.

In August 1920, Linus Pauling received a letter which invited him to apply for candidacy as a Rhodes Scholar. A day after receiving the letter, Pauling replied to the sender, expressing great interest. A series of letters, applications and recommendations document his efforts during the following year to be recommended by a state committee for the honor. It is evident from available materials that Pauling sincerely desired a place of study at Oxford. However, it is not entirely clear whether or not Pauling was truly ready for the obligation and engagement that such an honor might entail.

The Rhodes scholarship offered Pauling the possibility to learn at an institution whose scientific facilities were, in Pauling’s own words, “not excelled in the world.” The scholarship itself offered three years of expenses-paid study at Oxford, an opportunity that Pauling did not regard flippantly. He was convinced, because of the then current developments in science, that a student with a scientific background would be chosen.

Outside of general qualifications which included a specific age range, class standing and citizenship status, certain qualities were expected of potential representatives who were to be selected by the Oregon state scholarship committee. These qualities, as defined by the Rhodes Scholarship Memorandum, included:

(1) Qualities of manhood, force of character, and leadership.

(2) Literary and scholastic ability and attainments.

(3) Physical vigor, as shown by interest in outdoor sports or in other ways.

Should a candidate who was qualified in all three areas fail to appear, committees were to select those who showed “distinction either of character and personality, or of intellect, over one who shows a lower degree of excellence in both.”

In his initial application letter, Pauling referenced his engagement in campus honor societies, his impressive scholastic record, his status as junior class orator and his involvement in track and field as relevant personal qualifications for the scholarship. Overall it appears that Pauling had prepared a strong application. In it he displayed his knowledge of the scholarship itself, and it is clear that he understood, because of the nature of the scholarship and its qualifications, that this was his only chance to apply and be accepted.

Pauling acquired seven letters of recommendation from numerous faculty members as well as his summer employer. All of the letters offer diverse insights and perceptions of Pauling as a student and potential Rhodes Scholar. Though the recommendations are overwhelmingly positive and illuminating, noting his competence, character and intelligence, a barely perceptible undertone characterizes many of the documents – namely, a tendency to reference his “unusual” nature and sub-surface qualities. It is obvious by context that these traits are considered to be strengths rather than weaknesses; nonetheless, they stand out as abnormalities and may have been a factor in the final consideration of his application.

Pauling at track practice, Bell Field, Oregon Agricultural College. 1917.

It is also clear that some of the faculty felt the need to overcompensate for his lack of established athletic prowess. In subsequent introspective musings, Pauling viewed his lack of interest in sport as a major determinant for the ultimate outcome of his scholarship application.

In the end, Pauling was not offered a Rhodes scholarship. Though he voiced open disappointment, a new and pressing element had made its way into his life. As he received his letter from the appointment committee, informing him regrettably of his failure to be chosen, he was already falling in love with his future wife, then-student Ava Helen Miller.

Reflecting later in life, Pauling appears free of regret, and even thankful that he was not accepted. He remarked later in a letter to a friend that the people at Oxford were “burned up” in 1948 when they found out that he had been denied a Rhodes scholarship in 1922. Similarly, when asked what role sport played in his life, Pauling wrote the following in response:

You have asked what part Sport has played in my life and in my work… I have had the feeling that my lack of interest in sports may have been responsible for my failure to be awarded a Rhodes scholarship, for study at Oxford, at the time in 1922 when I was a candidate for this Scholarship. This may be the most important part that Sport has played in my life.

Though it cannot be known what would have become of Pauling’s life and work had he been admitted to Oxford for three years of study, it can at least be guessed that his particular graduate research at Caltech, and the relationships he developed there, would not have been initiated. Though he may have gone on to accomplish great things after graduating from Oxford, this particular chapter in Linus Pauling’s life seems to reinforce the old adage that one should sometimes be thankful for unanswered prayers.

For more information on Linus Pauling in Oregon, check out our Oregon 150 series. For general information on Linus Pauling, please visit the Linus Pauling Online portal.

The Paving Inspector Job

Linus Pauling (second from right) with a highway work crew, Sutherlin, Oregon. Summer 1922.

A unique chapter of Linus Pauling’s life played out over the summers of his undergraduate years at Oregon Agricultural College. A theme that had shadowed much of his young adult life – problems with finances – would continue to follow him into his graduate studies. The absence of a steady source of income, as well as short periods of more intensified financial hardship, significantly shaped the transition years between his start as an undergraduate and the beginning of his rigorous studies at the California Institute of Technology.

Pauling worked odd jobs on campus to make ends meet during the school year, but during most summers he was employed by the Oregon State Highway Commission as a paving plant inspector, living in a tent and charged with monitoring the quality of the bitumen-stone mixes used in the building of roads. His employment at the highway commission would stretch from the end of his sophomore year to the beginning of his doctoral studies. Over this course of time, particularly his final summer, distinguishing themes and aspects of Pauling’s professional life began to blossom.

Though it was not glorified work, and at times very boring, Pauling did enjoy his time working outdoors. He wrote of his love for the sun, and the benefits of spending a substantial portion of the year outside of a laboratory. Though Pauling would go on to work three additional summers for the highway commission, his first year was not without conflict. At this time he worked under the partial jurisdiction of a man named E.W. Lazell, a chemical and efficiency engineer stationed in Portland. A series of letters and reprimands from Mr. Lazell, as well as consultations with third parties, became common toward the end of Pauling’s first summer at the commission. In early September Pauling replied to department official Leland Gregory, apparently in regard to a complaint lodged against his handling of paving material temperatures. The “misinformed informant,” as Pauling referred to the unnamed complainant (Lazell), could apparently have been better informed had he referred to Pauling’s reports.

At the end of his first season with the commission, Pauling’s mother Belle informed him that she had been forced to use the money he had been sending her over the summer. The money had been meant to pay his school expenses for the following year, and with no additional funds at his disposal, Pauling chose to continue working into the fall.

Luckily, in late autumn of the same year, Pauling was offered a job by the chemistry department at O. A. C. Though it entailed a $25 per month pay cut, Pauling returned to the college as a full-time assistant instructor in quantitative analysis. The following summer he began work once again for the highway commission, and saved enough money to continue his studies as an undergraduate.

As has been well-documented, it is during Pauling’s stint as “boy professor” that he met Ava Helen Miller, his future wife, while teaching chemistry to her and twenty-four other home economics students. The two began dating toward the end of the school year, and the exchange of letters between them during Pauling’s last summer as a paving plant inspector gives one of the clearest and most intimate views of the future Nobel Prize winner’s advancing train of thought. All in all Pauling received 94 letters over the summer from Ava Miller, and replied in kind every day, sometimes two or three times.

You are my own darling girl, and your love is my only priceless possession. I shall try to make my life perfect in order that it may be good enough for you. I love your beautiful big blue eyes, your dainty little ears, your adorable own darling self. I love you.

-Linus Pauling to Ava Helen Miller, June 14, 1922.

The elements that generally defined Pauling’s correspondence with his future wife were a) their wish to be engaged, and b) the strong opposition to marriage that the two faced from their respective families. Always the romantic, Pauling was accused by some of Ava’s friends as being consistently “too mushy,” and indeed there is much written between the two about marriage, children and love.

However, over the course of their exchanges, Pauling likewise discussed much of his evolving personal philosophy. Both suggested reading materials to one another, with the bulk of the books suggested by Ava generally being metaphysical or philosophical in nature. As a result, Pauling discussed, in great detail, his perceptions of the soul, his conflicted feelings between animism and materialism, and his predisposition towards pacifism.

Money, a common theme for the duration of his undergraduate experience, also makes its presence felt throughout their correspondence. At times Pauling secretly mailed money to Ava to help finance trips to see him. He also devoted a substantial portion of his energies to trying to acquire the funds that would allow the two to marry after the summer’s end, with or without help from their parents.

Through youthful confessions, bouts of jealousy, and bold declarations, much can be gleaned about the budding relationship between Pauling and his wife-to-be. Other precursors such as Ava’s influence on Pauling’s diet, as well as his developing fascination with fruits, hint at patterns that would come to define important periods of his future life.

Hand-tinted photo of Pauling at the Sutherlin work site, 1922.

Pauling also read from his own selection of books, and took quite a liking to David Copperfield among others. Far and away, however, a major defining characteristic of his summer evenings was the time that he spent working through proof sheets of the first nine chapters of a newly revised chemistry textbook, Chemical Principles, sent to him by Arthur Amos Noyes, the head of the Division of Chemistry and Chemical Engineering at the California Institute of Technology.

Worked while stationed near the Pacific Coast at Astoria, Pauling devoured all 500 of the listed problems. After discussing his other interests with Noyes by mail, Pauling also began reading books on x-ray crystallography, a new technique being used to study the structure of crystals.  (One of these texts was X-rays and Crystal Structures by W. H. and W. L. Bragg, the latter of whom would eventually become a chief scientific rival of Pauling’s.)  Having completed his reading, and prompted by some nudging from Noyes, Pauling would begin his career as an x-ray crystallographer under the direction Professor Roscoe Dickinson at Caltech the following year.

It is clear by the end of his final summer with the highway commission that Pauling had grown weary of his summer occupation. (In an August 1922 letter to Ava Helen he writes: “I really hate working in a paving plant.  I do it just because I earn more than I would elsewhere.”) Bored, lonely and finished with the problem sets given to him by Professor Noyes, it appears that Pauling was left in an ideal state of mind to begin his graduate studies, and start what would become a brilliant career as an academic, a scientist and an activist for peace.

For more information on Linus Pauling in Oregon, check out our Oregon 150 series. For general information on Linus Pauling, please visit the Linus Pauling Online portal.

Fred Allen’s Notebook

During his time at Oregon Agricultural College, Linus Pauling quickly built a reputation as being the smartest man on campus. This reputation would eventually evolve into international considerations of Pauling as one of the top scientists in all of history. Understandably, because of his abilities in the classroom and the laboratory, he made significant impressions on his classmates and teachers alike. However, it is unlikely that Pauling impressed many of his early mentors as much as he did Fred Allen.

Allen was Pauling’s physical chemistry professor during his senior year at O.A.C. For this course, Allen kept a data notebook that can now be found in the biographical section of the Ava Helen and Linus Pauling Papers. The notebook, simply titled “Phy Chem Data Book,” contains not only results compiled from the experiments that his students completed, but also annotations and short biographical notes made by Allen in his later life. While the data aren’t of any particular interest, the annotations, made in 1962, do provide some interesting details on the class in general, and also on Pauling in particular. On one of the first pages, Allen writes:

The 14 men named on next page were in a Phy. Chem. Course under FJ Allen the school year 1921-22. It was a remarkable group.

Pauling is obviously the most notable person among the list of students, but another familiar name is Paul Emmett. Emmett, who, along with Pauling, would go on to receive his Ph.D. from Caltech, was one of the best in the class. However, according to Allen, Pauling was in a league entirely his own.

Except for Pauling, Emmett would have been top man in the class. No censure is intended when I say that the gap from Pauling to the others in the class is akin to the hardness gap from diamond to corundum.

Linus Pauling and Paul Emmett, 1920.

Allen’s praise for Pauling, however, does not stop there.

Pauling is the only student I have encountered who showed definite qualities of genius as an undergraduate.

A number of other interesting tidbits pertaining to Pauling’s life can also be gleaned from Allen’s short note about him. For example, an anecdote suggesting that Pauling was coveted by more than just the Caltech chemistry department.

Robt. A Millikan, visiting at Purdue in the early twenties told me with a twinkle in his eye, ‘Linus is too good a man to waste on chemistry. I’m going to make a physicist out of him.’ In 1956, I told this to Linus who said, ‘He tried. He offered me the headship at Cal Tech.’ I said ‘Why didn’t you take him up?’ Linus replied, ‘Chemistry made me a better offer.’

Allen also makes a point to address his sympathy for Pauling’s political problems.

In my opinion the persecution that Pauling has undergone would be ridiculous if it were not so tragic. He had to get a Nobel Prize to obtain a passport to leave the U.S.A.

Allen likewise mentions a recent visit with Pauling, during which their student and teacher roles from O.A.C. appear to have been reversed, at least for a short time.

I saw him last in 1956 when as a research associate I attended some of his lectures and did a very small piece of research under his direction. The courtesies extended to me at that time by Ava Helen, Linus and Crellin (younger son) will live long in my memory.

Interestingly enough, Allen is also the professor that triggered the meeting between Linus and Ava Helen. As Pauling was traveling home to Portland for Christmas vacation his senior year, Allen approached him and asked him to teach his general chemistry class for home economic majors. Enrolled in this class just happened to be Ava Helen Miller, who almost immediately caught Pauling’s eye. In due time, the two would be married.

Linus Pauling to Fred Allen, September 20, 1956, pg. 1

Pauling to Allen, September 20, 1956, pg. 2.

Over the years, Allen and Pauling stayed in contact, discussing many matters, both scientific and otherwise, such as writing textbooks, Pauling’s passport troubles, their families, and visiting one another. As their correspondence continued, what began merely as a student-professor relationship became a friendship that lasted until Allen passed away in 1968.

Excerpts from the Fred Allen diary are available here. For more information on Linus Pauling in Oregon, check out our Oregon 150 series. For general information on Linus Pauling, please visit the Linus Pauling Online portal.