Remarks by David Helfand at the funeral service of Robert Novick
Professor Emeritus of Physics
May 9, 2007
Plaza Memorial Chapel
New York City
Bob Novick
entered Columbia University as a PhD student 60 years ago
this year. Prior to that, he had already earned Bachelors and Masters degrees from
the Stevens Institute, and had served at the Naval Research lab as an
electronics engineer working on one of the two critical scientific breakthroughs
responsible for the Allies' success in World War II, radar.For his PhD at Columbia, he executed an experimental tour-de
force by measuring the Lamb shift for singly ionized Helium. Apart from a brief
three-year stint in what we New Yorkers call "the interior" at the University of Illinois,
Bob spent his entire career at Columbia.
The Columbia Radiation Laboratory, founded by one of the seminal figures of
20th century Physics, I.I. Rabi, was, by 1960, in need of new leadership. Bob
was recalled from Illinois
to undertake this task. For the ensuing eight years, he continued the tradition
of experimental excellence in the Lab that had seen the invention and
perfection of the atomic clock and the discovery of the maser, the precursor to
all of today's communications technology. My perusal this week of his file in
the Department of Physics revealed that his talents were much in demand, with
letters of offer from Michigan, Yale, Chicago, and other
leading centers of Physics coming in at regular intervals. One of his letters
of recommendations struck me as particularly apt. Written by Henry Foley, then
of the University of Washington and subsequently a leading theorist at
Columbia, it said:
"His work
has been daring, in that he will attack an experiment that any reasonable man would hesitate to take up, and at the same time
conservative,
in that he works through and takes into account all conceivable
factors before any work begins."
Henry does
go on to say: "I can warn you, his experiments are likely to be
expensive."
That didn't deter Yale, which immediately offered him a job; Bob declined to
leave NYC.
By the late 1960's, however, Bob was becoming restless with atomic physics,
sensing that the field was in the intellectual doldrums. In 1966, he did what
far too few academics ever do -- he took a course, in the Department of
Astronomy.Lo Woltjer, subsequently
President of the International Astronomical Union, was Chair at the time and
encouraged this foray into a new discipline. Forty years ago this week, Lo and Bob signed a letter inaugurating
the Columbia Astrophysics Laboratory (CAL). Bob quickly led this fledgling
organization to the forefront of the new field of high energy astrophysics such
that, by the early 1970's, CAL
was, along with MIT, Harvard, and the NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, the
architect of a series of three satellites that would make X-ray observations a
central feature of our study of the Universe.
In the first decade of the Lab's existence, Bob recruited a truly outstanding
cadre of post docs; all four of them returned for his retirement party in 1993
at which time they were, respectively, the Director of the National Radio Astronomy Observatory, the Director of the Arizona
Mirror lab, the origin of many of the world's largest telescopes today, the
Deputy Director of the Hubble Space Telescope, and the Chief Scientist of the Chandra
X-ray Observatory.
That his intellectual progeny should come to so dominate American Astrophysics
in a wide range of spectral bands was a direct legacy of Bob's style; the
physics came first, the experimental techniques came second, and the
sociological niceties came dead last. Thirty years ago, one was either an
optical astronomer, a high energy astrophysicist, or a radio astronomer and
never the twain shall meet. Yet Bob's Lab fostered the leaders of all three
disciplines.
Indeed, thirty years ago this month, I came to New York for an interview with Bob. I was
finishing my PhD in low-frequency radio astronomy, but had become fascinated
with the weekly revelations about the high-energy Universe which the first
X-ray satellite was revealing, and I thought, naively, that this might be my
one chance in a career to change fields. I had three other job offers in my
field of expertise, but Bob said -- "You should come here and do something
new". And I did.
Within eighteen months, we launched the first X-ray telescope, and its sharp
X-ray view of the Universe revealed astounding things. At the APS meeting in
April of 1979, the four leaders of the project – Riccardo Giaconni of Harvard,
George Clark of MIT, Steve Holt of NASA, and Bob, were scheduled to give
invited talks presenting the first results of this spectacularly successful
experiment to the American Physics community. Riccardo was to discuss the project,
and George and Steve were to present the results of their experiments which measured
the spectra of cosmic X-ray source, yielding rich physical insights, but
relatively boring black and white line drawings of the results. Bob was to discuss
the pictures -- the first images ever of the high energy Universe. He came to
me a week before the event and said "Why don't you give my talk?"
This was, without question, the formative event of my career.
I read yesterday a review Bob wrote of a major paper by several leading physicists
of the day in 1965. His review began "This postulate is absolutely wrong
in detail, in philosophical spirit, and on narrower intellectual grounds".
He concluded the review, however, by stating "I hope I have not given the
impression that I am completely negative about this paper. Quite the contrary,
I am highly enthusiastic about it" . The poor authors' response began
"Good heavens!" followed by a hasty retreat from their less-than-well-founded
opening. Bob did not suffer fools gladly, but he had a generosity of spirit
when it came to good physics -- and to innovative instrumentation -- that left
a legacy of which anyone would be proud. Emerging from the dissertation defense
of what was undoubtedly his most problematic PhD student -- in the course of
his relationship with whom the NYPD had become involved -- Bob was asked by a
colleague, with some trepidation, "How did it go".His reply "I was disappointed -- I
rather liked it." Intellectually honest to his very core.
When Bob became Chair of the Physics Department at Columbia in 1983, the inside joke was that it
would be easier for him than any previous Chair, because he wouldn't have to
deal with Bob. The fact is, however, that he was the only person in the last
fifty years who was re-elected to a second term.
The Columbia Astrophysics Lab, Bob's fourth child, began with one faculty member
-- Bob -- three post docs, and a few adventurous graduate students.Today we boast 23 faculty, 37 other PhD scientists,
40 graduate students from three departments, and the largest research budget of
any interdisciplinary laboratory in the University. We follow Bob's legacy by designing
and building innovative instrumentation to search for dark matter, to measure
the radiation from the Big Bang, to detect the Universe's hidden black holes,
and to chart the star formation history of the Universe. We have missed his physical presence for nearly 15 years, but the
iconoclastic vision, the vibrant spirit, and the primordial sense of
intellectual honesty survive as his legacy.
Robert Novick
May 3, 1923 - May 6, 2007
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