In 1958, I did slightly better in my intention of maintaining a diary of my days at Cornell. In January, I made it through two weeks, a great improvement over the two days of 1957.
Once again, I had driven back to Ithaca with my father, who insisted that he accompany me. I was never sure why he demanded this. He left on a train within a few hours of our arrival in town. The weather for the first half of the trip had been accommodating. We had left Niles at 11:00 a.m. and arrived in Ithaca at 7:00 p.m. The New York Thruway was now open all the way and we were able to cover the Erie to Buffalo section without incident, other than being delayed in Hamburg, New York for speeding. Since I had heard a snowstorm was, as usual, moving into central New York, I was determined to beat its arrival.
My feelings upon my own arrival in town were, again, not what they had been upon returning to Kent after a holiday visit. Without the collegiate social atmosphere I once loved so much, it now took time to readjust. I did not like the loneliness that settled in almost immediately. Since I had given up going to the DU House at Cornell, a brotherhood was no longer available to sustain me.
I had begun to bond with the graduate students in my Department, but I had problems. For the first time in my life, I did not feel up to them academically. I had always been among the brightest in my classes. This was no longer the case. I was disturbed whether I would be able to keep up with the other grad-students who had started with me a few months ago. I assumed it would depend on how my qualifying exams would turn out. One of the new students, Evelyn Havir, whom I thought was much brighter than I, claimed to be worried about passing her exams. She did, but my own worries were no less troublesome. I did not like being “merely average.”
I met with Dr. Williams, the head of the Biochemistry Department, who was also my academic advisor, until I chose a topic for my doctoral thesis and would gain a personal mentor for the remainder of my time in graduate school. He seemed to believe I was doing well and would continue to do so; he even thought I’d be ready for my qualifying exams next fall. If I did not pass them, I would end up with a Master’s degree, the consolation prize for not being able to pursue a doctorate.
I did enjoy the social gatherings with Evelyn and her roommate, Louise Anderson, and with the other first-year grad-students: John Wooten, Bob Wilhelm and Paul Kindle. All of us became close friends over the next four years. The Smalltalk we had while drinking beer and consuming snacks in one of their apartments was usually entertaining. The picnics we had at Taughannock Falls Park were even better.
Being outdoors added to my desire to be a first-rate biochemist, and really understand the life around me be it plant, animal or fungal. Besides, the golds and reds of the Finger Lake region in autumn, along with the multiple waterfalls of the creeks entering Cayuga Lake, could not be more fantastic. It was a miraculous place to be one-with-nature. There were spectacular sites and sights all around-me. I became transfixed by merely standing near a small wet spot on the flat rocks near the falls and pondering the mysteries of the life residing there, unnoticed by most hikers walking past it.
And then came the snow. One evening in early January, the forecast had said the rain would turn into freezing rain. When I awoke in the morning, the radio declared that fourteen inches of snow had fallen over night. At first, I thought I had accidently tuned into a broadcast from New Hampshire, but the news had come from the local station. Shoveling out the car was a real challenge, one which remained so, on a daily basis, for the rest of that month and those which followed.
After the preliminary ice storm, there was no traction for a car without chains and I walked to the campus from my new apartment in Cayuga Heights, to which I had recently moved in anticipation of Karen joining me in the coming months, and my desire to have more than the space afforded by a single room. A combined living room and kitchen adjoining a large bedroom and a private bathroom were more than sufficient. I also got along well with Mrs. Bemont, my new landlady.
If it weren’t for the daily, physical headaches I began to develop, my life could have been even pleasant, although I missed Karen tremendously and daily letters did not relieve that pain. The Cornell clinic was not able to diagnose the reason for my new affliction and so I decided I might need a new prescription for my eyeglasses. When the new ones yielded no positive results, I began to accept that the stress of the life of a graduate student was compatible with my physical problems. This was the way it was going to be for the coming months. I hoped the Ph.D. would be worth it.