A Tribute

My fascination with computer began with three items – the adding machine, the abacus, and the slide rule. None as sophisticated as even a four-function calculator, but each appealed to me.

The adding machine was stored on the top shelf of the closet in the “backroom” of my grandparents apartment. There were many in greens and grays and all big and clunky – with rows and rows of buttons. Playing with … errr using … these provided me endless fun sitting in my grandfather’s chair.

The abacus came in the second grade. I still see it clearly on the bookshelf under the windows in the classroom. There it was, calling to me throughout the day to do its magic adding and subtracting.

The slide rule came before I was allowed a calculator. My father, adept at the slide rule, stored it in a cabinet in our den. I had to learn to use it, before the “modern technology” would be provided.

All of these stories come to mind as I think today of my cousin, Bill Grossman. We buried Bill on Monday. Bill introduced me to yet another then-amazing technology – a teletype communicating via modem from my house in Skokie, Illinois to my campus in Bloomington, Indiana – remember, no internet in 1980! Bill enabled my study to continue through the summer.

Bill was an amazing technologist – before computers were personal. He served in World War II as an Army air radar technician. He was always adapting and learning all the tricks, right to the end. He knew their ‘secrets’. He disassembled and reassembled, built from scratch, and ‘made them sing’. He had all the latest software almost before the stores. He was an innovator. He followed it; he understood it; and he shared that enthusiasm with me. Thanks Bill. I will miss you.