DURING the course of the late war, I had the very good fortune to find myself exposed for a time to the time honored traditions of Princeton University. Perhaps not so ancient, but none the less honored, was Princeton\u27s current tradition: my most unforgettable character, Albert Einstein

Orbaugh, William

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My Friend EinsteinWILLIAM ORBAUGHURING the course ofthe late war, I had thevery good fortune tofind myself exposedfor a time to the time-honored traditions ofPrinceton University.Perhaps not so ancient, but none the lesshonored, was Princeton's current tradition:my most unforgettable character, AlbertEinstein.The many anecdotes about this greatman, told almost reverently by his admir-ing students, are legend on the Princetoncampus.On brisk autumn mornings, the profes-sor could be seen striding across a wideplot of lawn on his way to a morning lec-ture on theoretical physics. He was a littleman, and bounced along his way with arolling gait, seemingly oblivious to thepassing train of sleepy eyed students andstray dogs. He usually wore a dirty suedejacket which was wretchedly out of shapebecause of his habit of stuffing his handsdeep into the pockets as he chopped alongthrough the wet grass.I never knew the professor to use thewalks and pathways on the campus exceptas obstacles to negotiate in his trek frombuilding _to building. He seemed to havean aversion of the heavy traffic on thewalks, and demonstrated an almost un-canny ability in plotting a straight courseto his destination, proceeding over greatgrassy malls and low rolling terrain withunfaltering confidence. Along with thisamazing accuracy in divining a straightline to his objective, the professor dis-played an unconscious agility in avoidinggopher-holes, stumps, curbstones, andstructures which often arrayed themselvesagainst his steady advance.While floating along in his morningreverie, he kept his eyes cast on theground, with a pipe stuck in his mouth, onwhich he puffed continually. Momentarily,he would extract from his trouser pocketa book of matches and quickly scribble anotation with a short, stubby pencil on theback of the cover.The professor never wore a hat, butwrapped a red, wooly muffler several timesabout his neck. The wind often skewedhis long wiry hair into great disarray, attimes giving it the appearance of an Indianwar-bonnet of white bristling feathers. Heusually wore an old pair of tired lookingcorduroy trousers with "apples in theknees," and often, be-ing fond of exercisingin the gymnasium, he could be seen pad-ding about the halls in old canvas tennisshoes. In general he presented a verycollegia te figure indeed.Very often the professor appeared ir:the lecture room in this attire, usuallywearing a rumpled sweat-shirt with hiscoeds and sneakers. Standing on the ros-trum, his hair tousled, he presented analmost comic picture as he fumbled in histrouser pockets and came forth with thedirty little match-covers which werecovered with scrawled formulas and srib-bled. equations. But no one laughed at thelittle man. The lecture was conducted inan atmosphere which was very much likea church service: the students listenedattentively as the professor spoke in asharp metallic voice, outlining some phaseof theoretical physics in terms of his ideasof relativity.The only thing which could cause a-19-1/departure from his decorous bearing, theonly thing which irritated the little man,was for someone to fall asleep in his per-plexity: on these occasions, the professorwas moved to a bit of deviltry, and tookseeming delight in lobbing a piece of chalkat the offender, after waving excitedlyaside any students who might obstructhis target. In this operation, as before,the professor's accuracy in calculating theprecise trajectory for his projectile wasamazing. When the bit of chalk found itsmark, and the sleeper started with sur-prise, perhaps casting a hostile eye abouthim while the class cackled with glee, theprofessor would only grin sheepishly ashe resumed his lecture.On one most memorable occasion,while Professor Einstein was amblingalong in a sort of intellectual "haze," hisradar appeared to be on the blink, becausewe collided quite forcibly in the hall."Oops! Sorry, son," the professor ex-claimed, as he regained his bearing andscooted off down the hall. I rememberhow I stood, staring dumbly after theretreating figure ... perhaps the greatestmind which mankind has ever produced.I felt so alone. I wished the people backin Indiana could have seen me ... knOCk_ing around with Einstein!After my conversation with Einste'. Ill,and ever since, I have felt quite justifiedin referring to the professor as a friendof mine. Don't you agree .... relativelyspeaking?An Ode To NightR. J. PAYNEWhen I forget the soft spring rainUpon the roof, or its command to sleep,And to awake refreshed and healed;Or the soft and heady fragranceOf the new cut hay that comes driftingFrom the fields, whose gloom of shadowsAre spangled with the milky-way of fire-flies;When stirs me not the golden harvest moon,Set in the smoky frost of Fall;Or, if the warm, round lover's moon of SpringAwakes me not, then Age has brushed me by,And He will soon return.-20

My Friend Einstein

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My Friend Einstein

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