Contemplating Life – Episode 79 – “Last One Out Turn Off the Lights”

In this episode, we wrap up talking about my brief two years working at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

https://youtu.be/hjwEGOaOSgQ

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 79 of Contemplating Life.

In this episode, we wrap up talking about my brief two years working at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

One of my fondest memories of working in the Genetics Department was a cookout we were invited to at the home of Drs. John and Judith Gersting. I mentioned in a previous episode that he enjoyed restoring vintage Ford Thunderbird cars. He had recruited one of his programming classes to write software that kept track of scoring the judging of classic cars at car shows.

At the cookout, I had the opportunity to see one of his impeccably restored vintage Thunderbirds and another one that was a work in progress at the time. After my dad picked me up from the cookout, I told him about it. He was quite angry. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about it before we left? Didn’t you think I would be interested in seeing his car collection?” Whoops. Sorry, Dad. My bad. Dad didn’t restore classic cars, but he enjoyed working on cars. He did a phenomenal job restoring the old junk pickup truck he bought from my brother-in-law. I should’ve known he would have enjoyed seeing Dr. Gersting’s vehicles.

As I mentioned before, eventually, the genetics department began to run out of money. The work we did there was almost entirely funded by grant money. Research grants take a long time to process. You have to search for where grant money is available. You write a proposal that you think will interest them. Then you wait—sometimes months—while your proposal competes with dozens or more other proposals, all of which want the same small batch of money. To keep a steady flow of money coming in, you have to plan far in advance.

We have spoken at length about Dr. Donald Merritt, the department chairperson, who interviewed me for the job. Even though he was a bit of an ass, I’m sad to report that he developed skin cancer and had to resign. He eventually succumbed to the disease. The next person in line, I forget his name, was appointed “Acting Chairman.” The problem was he didn’t want to act until he was certain he was going to become the official chairman. There was a possibility they would hire someone from outside the department to take over. We had an acting chairman who wouldn’t act.

Our database project was Dr. Merritt’s pet project. No one was sure if our project would be a priority for the new chairman. No one was writing new grant proposals, and the money was running out.

One of the geneticists who was more closely a supervisor than Dr. Merritt was a Korean-born guy named Dr. KeWon Kang. He wrote a grant proposal and asked me to proofread it. I told him my spelling skills were terrible, but I would take a look at it. Even with my horrific lack of ability to spell, I could see there were numerous spelling errors. It was also written in very broken English, obviously by someone for whom English was not their native language.

It wasn’t just the spelling and bad grammar. Most of it was incoherent, and I’m not saying that because I did not understand the genetics. It was just a terrible piece of writing.

I was very blunt with him. I told him that if you submitted that proposal, it would be an embarrassment to you personally and to the department as a whole. I told him that I knew nothing about writing grant proposals. I explained I was incapable of fixing this one, but I could tell by looking at it that it was a mess.

I acknowledged that I understood that English wasn’t his first language. I said, “You need to look at this like it’s a disability. I don’t go around attempting to do things I’m physically incapable of doing. You shouldn’t be writing proposals in English when you don’t have the communication skills to do so effectively. I can write English well enough with the help of someone checking my spelling, but I don’t have the background and know what it takes to get grant money. So I can’t do this for you. You need to find someone who knows what they’re doing and can do it for you.”

I didn’t fault him for not having the skills to do the job. I did fault him forgot recognizing his own limitations before nearly making a fool of himself.

There was a fixed amount of money left, and no new money was coming in. It was just a matter of time before the entire project would be shut down. Even if we did get some money in time, it was unlikely that the funding levels would be as high as they had been. People started looking for employment elsewhere. They had spouses and children to think about. They couldn’t afford to be off work for several months until they found a new position.

On the other hand, I was living with my parents, paying a token rent. If the project shut down and it took me six months to find another position, I could handle it.

Linda, the divorcee who continued to sleep with her ex-husband, was the first to go. I don’t know where she ended up finding employment. When she left, they didn’t replace her, which meant that the rest of us could stay a little longer. I moved into her office, which was one of three immediately adjacent to the computer room. Before that, I had been in an office across the hall.

A couple of months later, Buz left. As I mentioned in the previous episode, he found employment with Eli Lilly Pharmaceuticals. They used Hewlett-Packard computers, which were often connected to laboratory equipment in those days. He was familiar with them. As I mentioned, he had a Master’s degree in chemistry, so the job was ideal for him. Also, as I mentioned previously, we stayed closely in touch for many years, generally visiting once a week.

Dale was the last to leave before me. I don’t know where she found employment or what happened to her. I considered her a friend and should’ve tried to stay in touch. When she left, I moved into her office—it was the biggest one.

As I mentioned before, I typically arrived at 8:30 AM even though everyone else arrived around 9. I would go straight to the office and start running a file conversion program. It would take data from punchcard files in our old format and convert it into the new format for our database. If there was no new data yet ready, I would run the data consistency check program that I had written. These programs would take a couple of hours to run, so I would start them early in the morning and then take off to go for breakfast at the Student Union Building.

That building was about two blocks away, across the medical center campus. It had a cafeteria, bakery shop, ice cream bar, bookstore, full-size swimming pool, lounge areas, and hotel rooms typically used by people visiting the University to attend conferences or perhaps for visiting parents. It also housed IUPUI’s DEC-System 10 mainframe computer, which I had used remotely via computer terminals from the 38th Street campus throughout my nine semesters of computer science studies.

Beginning when I was a student programmer, I had lunch there every day. When I went full-time, because I arrived so early, I would often have breakfast there as well.

When the weather was warm, I would go out a back door of Riley Hospital near the loading dock and drive my wheelchair in the street to the Student Union.

One day, while I was on this journey, a photographer from the IUPUI newspaper snapped a photo of me from behind. You can see the photo in the YouTube version of this episode. The caption read, “When the first warm breezes of the year caused strolling students to crowd the sidewalks of Indiana University – Purdue University at Indianapolis last week, one student found HER own way to avoid the crowd around the Student Union Building.”

First of all, I was in the street because the sidewalks didn’t have curb cuts. But more importantly, I had such long hair that the editor thought I was a girl. One day during lunch, I made my way all the way back to Cavanaugh Hall to the newspaper offices and asked to speak to the photographer. The guy I spoke to said, “I took that photo.”

“Well,” I said, “as you can see. I’m not a she.”

He let out a sigh and said, “I knew that. I tried to tell my editor that. He insisted on the caption even after I said you were male.”

Wow… So much for accuracy in journalism.

In bad weather, I would take the underground tunnels that connected the basements of nearly all of the buildings in the IU Medical Center. It was a longer trip through the tunnels than the aboveground journey, but I could get there without putting on a coat or being out in the weather.

Most of the buildings had no doors where the basements connected to the tunnels, but the Student Union had a door at either end of a long hallway. The doors opened outward, so when leaving, I could just push those doors open with my wheelchair. However, getting in was more difficult. I couldn’t pull them, so I would have to wait for someone else to come along and open the door.

I eventually discovered that if I took the long way around to the far basement door, it was usually cracked slightly ajar. I could wedge my wheelchair footrest into it and open it myself.

I heard that after 9/11, all of the tunnels were closed off to public access for security reasons. They installed locked doors or steel grating. Only maintenance people who had specific needs to use the tunnels were allowed access. I wondered if I would have been able to persuade them not to lock it down if I was still working there. Were there other disabled people who used those tunnels? Even if they issued me a key, I wouldn’t have been able to operate it on my own. I was very disappointed even though I had not worked there for decades.

At lunch each day, I never had any trouble asking strangers to help me with my cafeteria tray. The cafeteria made a really nice cheeseburger and steak fries. I would also get a Coke. I don’t recall ever ordering anything other than that from the cafeteria for the entire two years.

They had a pastry shop with fresh-baked donuts and coffee every morning. I would order a glazed twist donut, a cup of coffee, and two sugars. The lady who worked there began to recognize me, and I didn’t need to give my order after a while. She would just say, “The usual?” And I would say, “Yes.” She would come out from behind the counter and hand the food to me. I could put the napkin-wrapped doughnut in my lap and carry the coffee.

Nearby, there was a lounge area with some tables. I would sit there and eat my donut and drink my coffee. The TV was on every day. It was usually tuned to “Good Morning America.” I would have preferred “The Today Show,” but I was never there very long, so it didn’t matter.

An old friend of mine from Roberts School, Chris Fryman, was often sitting there in his wheelchair watching TV. We were in kindergarten together, but somewhere along the way, he was held behind a year or two because he missed a bunch of school for medical reasons. He had osteogenesis imperfecta, a.k.a. brittle bone disease. He had lived just a few blocks from me, and we rode the same school bus for 13 years. I didn’t know what had happened to him after high school, so I was surprised to see him there.

I asked him what he had been up to since high school, and he said, “Nothing.” His dad was the building’s maintenance supervisor. His parents divorced when he was young, and he lived with his dad. He had nowhere to go and nothing to do every day, and although he was somewhat independent, he could not be alone all day. So, he would come to work with his dad and just sit in the lounge of the Student Union Building, watching TV all day.

Eventually, he found a job working in the building. As I mentioned, they had a swimming pool there. He manned the desk, checking IDs and handing out towels. I was happy he finally had a job. I spoke to his dad, Jim, one day, asking why Chris never went to college or tried to get a better job. I didn’t want to ask something that personal of Chris directly. Jim explained that Chris had never done very well academically and was not college material. I never knew what kind of grades he had and presumed he was held back mostly for medical reasons, but perhaps he also had some sort of learning difficulties.

After I quit working at genetics, I never heard from him again. Google searches tell me that his mother died in 2017 at age 85 and was preceded in death by her first husband, James, and her son, Christopher. I had forgotten his dad’s name. Another search revealed that Jim died in 1994 at age 62. That same record mentioned his son Chris died in 1983 at age 28. We were never very close, but I had known him for many years, and I’m sad that he had never had the opportunity to accomplish much. I hope he had a happy life anyway.

I have fond memories of the Student Union Building. A few years ago, I was writing a blog about my college experiences and went looking for a photo of the building. I couldn’t find it on Google Maps. I didn’t realize it had been torn down in 2010 to make room for the new Eskenazi Hospital, which opened in 2013.

My original script for this episode said that I could only find one low-res image of the Union Building, but while preparing this podcast, I found dozens of images in the IUPUI Digital Archives. It includes construction photos from 1952, lots of photos from 1956 when the IU School of Nursing was opened, and some more current versions from 2004, which depict the building as I remembered it from the late 1970s. Although IUPUI wasn’t officially formed until 1969, the IU Medical Center has been around in one form or another since the early 1900s. See the YouTube version for some of these photos and the links in the description for the entire archive and a history timeline of Indiana University in Indianapolis.

After everyone left, it was strange working alone in the genetics department. I don’t recall, but I don’t believe we continued to have the weekly Friday afternoon staff meetings. The only people around the computer area were me and the keypunch lady, Paula.

There was no pressure to get anything done. Any progress I made was appreciated because their expectations had diminished to zero under those conditions. Some days, I just sat around the office, occasionally checking on the status of the file conversion process. I would sit at Dale’s desk reading an Analog Science Fiction Magazine that I had picked up at the Student Union Bookstore.

Despite the lack of pressure, my health began deteriorating. I would get headaches every day and take some Anacin Aspirin. In the afternoon, I would take a break and go upstairs to a vending machine room in the hospital and grab a Coke.

I had no realization of how much strain this was putting on my heart: coffee for breakfast, Coke for lunch, afternoon Coke for a break, and sometimes Coke for supper. And I was unaware that Anacin brand aspirin also contained caffeine.

At the end of the day, I was exhausted. I would go to bed immediately after supper and fall asleep quickly. In the morning, I was still a mess.

I became severely constipated, and I thought that I was bloated so much it was affecting my breathing. After about three days of this, I went in to work one morning in April 1979 and just couldn’t function. At about 11 AM, I picked up the phone and called my dad at the sheet metal shop where he worked about a mile away. I told him I had to go home. I was exhausted.

As I went to hang up the phone, my arm slipped, and I dropped the receiver. I managed to fling it forward enough that it landed on top of the phone, and I was able to wiggle it into place to hang up. I told someone I was leaving. I went to the lobby and waited for Dad. When I got home, I immediately went to bed.

I never returned to the offices of the Indiana University Department of Medical Genetics.

In our next episode, we will discuss the downward spiral of my health that turned my life upside down.

I suppose before we go, I should close out the Gersting Chronicles.

Some years later, when my sister Karen was in high school, I went to a regional science fair where she exhibited. Drs. John and Judy Gersting’s son Adam, who was approximately my sister’s age, was also exhibiting there. I had a brief, friendly conversation with John.

One day, my friend Rich and I were in a computer store to purchase a copy of the newly released MS-DOS version 6.0, and we ran into Dr. Gersting. Google tells me that would’ve been March 1993. I was able to brag that I had co-authored a book on computer graphics.

I think it was at that encounter that he told me that he had converted our entire genetics database software package to run under Fortran on an IBM PC. They had sold off the big PDP 11/70 because a single PC was more than sufficient to run the entire project. The guy who was the acting chairman was finally appointed permanent chair, and funding was finally resumed. I don’t know if they ever hired any additional programming staff, but they had to hire someone to manage the database

I attended a software conference once, but I don’t remember when. Gersting was in attendance, and we had a nice chat.

A few years ago, I read an article about a new and innovative educational model. You would insist that a student have complete mastery of a block of material before allowing them to proceed to more material in the subject. I laughed out loud about these “innovative and new concepts.” Hell, Gersting had been doing it decades earlier. We couldn’t go to the next chapter in his book until we had passed the quiz on the previous chapter 100%.

I had heard that the Gerstings had moved to Hawaii to take teaching positions there but had returned to Indianapolis and were now listed on the IUPUI website as Professor Emeritus. I obtained their email addresses from their staff listings on the website and sent them both an email reminding them of who I was, including a link to the article about the new and innovative educational concepts. They were both genuinely pleased to hear from me and to hear that I was alive and well.

Once this episode goes public, I will email them again. They are still listed on the IUPUI website as Professor Emeritus, and I’ve not discovered any obituaries for them, so I’m hoping they are still around.

It was a great honor to study with them and to have them consider me a colleague. I have learned more than computer programming from them both, and I cherish all these memories I have shared with you over the past many episodes.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 78 – “Buz is Cool”

In this episode, we continue discussing my brief two years working at the IU Department of Medical Genetics. I tell the story of my friendship with one of my department colleagues.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

https://youtu.be/M5qM7yAaWvE

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 78 of Contemplating Life.

In this episode, we continue talking about my brief two years working at the IU Department of Medical Genetics.

In a previous episode, I mentioned a guy who worked there whose name I couldn’t remember. I decided to call him Joe. Anyway, he left the department, leaving a vacancy. Apparently, he was supposedly the manager of the computer group. I never really thought we had anyone who was officially “in charge.” I know he took a lot of responsibility for doing routine maintenance tasks such as backups. But it didn’t feel like we were taking orders from him. It was more of a group effort under Gersting and the geneticists.

Shortly after Joe left, they began interviewing the staff one by one in private. I met again with Dr. Merritt and Dr. Gersting, who had interviewed me for the job initially. They wanted to know if I was happy working there. Did I have any complaints? Just general personnel review kinds of questions.

They then said they were looking for someone to be the project manager. They wondered if I was interested in a managerial position. I quickly said, “No.”

Merritt seemed surprised. His image of me was that I was ambitious. He saw I liked to take charge in some of the meetings. I explained to him what I talked about a couple of episodes ago. I saw my job as sometimes being the middleman or the English language interpreter between the genetics staff and the programming staff. I told them both directly to their faces that sometimes they got so stuck in their own jargon that they were speaking plain English. I had to rephrase everything that was being said just so the other side could understand it.

I don’t recall specifically what their reaction was to my accusation. I’m probably describing it more harshly here than I did to their face. But I’m certain that they knew I was right because they had seen me do it on many occasions. I think somehow Merritt interpreted my need to take charge of the conversation in those instances as a desire to run the show. I suppose if I had been in charge, it would have made it easier to keep people focused and communicating in ways that were productive and improving the quality of the debate.

I made it clear to them that I had no ambitions for a management position, even if it came with more money. Sure, a raise would be great. Everybody wants one of those. But I would have felt quite uncomfortable trying to supervise Dale and Linda, who had been working there much longer than me. Furthermore, I did not want the headache of a managerial position. I didn’t need that kind of pressure.

A few weeks later, they hired a new guy to replace Joe. His name was Roy Buzdor. He was a short, chubby guy with a round face and a bushy mustache. He spent most of his time in his office, not interacting with the rest of us very much at first. When he did interact with us, he acted like he was running the place.

At some point, one of us, I don’t think it was me, asked him, “Who put you in charge?”

He replied, “Dr. Merritt did. He hired me as the project manager.”

Nobody bothered to tell us. It was clear he was Joe’s replacement, but we never thought of Joe as being in charge. Maybe that was his official title. That made things go a little easier between this goofy guy with a funny name who was suddenly in charge. We could focus on our anger on Merritt and the other bosses for not telling us that they hired this guy to be in charge. And I was no fan of Merritt, to begin with, so it was easy to blame it all on him. I think the other gals were more upset than I was. They had seniority, yet the bosses brought in a new stranger and put him in charge. I’m certain I would’ve gotten a lot of ill will if I had been put in charge ahead of them.

With this new perspective on what happened and some time to get to know the guy, things warmed up a bit. It’s always tough for a new guy to assimilate. Being thrust into a management position when no one knew that was your job had to be very rough for him.

One day, someone in the lab was about to have a birthday. Someone purchased a birthday card, and it was passed around for everyone to sign. Even if you didn’t know the person personally, when it was their birthday, you would sign the card and have a piece of cake. When I went to sign it, I could see that the new guy had already signed it with the nickname “Buz.”

I asked him, “Do people call you ‘Buz’?”

He said, “Yes.”

From that point forward, he was no longer Buzdor. He was Buz. For some strange reason, that made a difference.

Buzdor was a goofy name for a goofy guy.

Buz was cool. A guy named Buz had walked on the moon. That was cool. Suddenly, our new guy Buz was cool too.

By the way, this was more than a decade before the movie “Toy Story” and Buzz Lightyear.

Very quickly, Buz and I became good friends. We were both computer nerds, and we loved sci-fi and comics. Once we got to know each other, we hit it off great.

Buz, his wife, and two sons lived in an apartment about a mile west of my house near 34th St. and I-465. Buz and I started getting together outside of work. He would come over about one evening a week, and we would tinker around with my personal computers. He would help me with hardware issues, and we would play computer games. Occasionally, we would go see a movie together. Eventually, he purchased a PC of his own, and he would take me over to his apartment to show it to me. We would work on it together. We would download free or shareware utility software from CompuServe. I will devote a future episode to the details of my first PC.

We had lots of fun at work as well. The computer terminal Buz used in the department was a very expensive graphics terminal called a Digital Equipment Corporation GT-40. It was actually a computer in its own right. It consisted of a PDP 11/10 processor, 8k of memory, a keyboard, a green phosphor monitor, and a light pen. The department had purchased it in the hopes that we could use its graphics capabilities to display and edit family trees, but we never came close to developing that software.

The GT-40 used vector graphics. Most computer monitors used a raster scan, which is the same method used by old analog TVs. The electron gun of the CRT moves across the screen row by row, illuminating phosphor dots. These dots, which we call pixels, create text or graphics. However, a vector terminal like the GT-40 worked differently. The electron gun would zigzag around the screen, actually drawing letters or graphic symbols similar to the way a laser light show can draw things. Because it takes a long time to draw each character on the screen using this method, the display would have an annoying flickering. It used green phosphors because they stay illuminated longer after the electrons stop hitting them. This reduces the flicker, but the flicker can get annoying in a vector graphics terminal like this one.

The GT 40 was quite famous for a videogame called “Lunar Lander.” You would have an icon of a lunar module flying around in space. You would use the light pen to touch the screen the same way you would use a stylus on a modern tablet. You would point at control arrows on the screen that would increase or decrease the braking thrust as well as the orientation of your spaceship. Numbers across the top of the screen would give you your remaining fuel, altitude, horizontal and vertical velocity, and distance to your landing zone.

The goal was to land at the designated landing point without running out of fuel. If you were successful, a tiny astronaut stick figure would climb out of the lunar module and walk into a nearby building with two arches outside. It was a McDonald’s hamburger restaurant on the moon. Buz and I spent many lunch hours playing that game (some longer than an hour). See the links in the description for more info on the GT 40 terminal and its famous lunar landing game.

I found a video online and the guy who restored a vintage GT 40 terminal and got the lunar lander game working on it. He doesn’t have a clear video of the game in progress. All of the videos of him giving a presentation at a conference. You can’t see the screen very clearly.

Eventually, the genetics department began to run out of money. I will explain the details in another episode. But this episode is really about my relationship with my friend Buz. I don’t want to take time out from that by going off on a tangent about department funding.

The short version is that when it became highly probable that the project was about to end, the other programmers began looking for new jobs. They had families to feed and bills to pay. I was living at home with my parents and if I was unemployed for several months until I found a new job it wasn’t going to hurt me.

Linda, the divorcee who continued to sleep with her ex-husband, was the first to go. Then, Buz found a job working for Eli Lilly Pharmaceuticals. They used HP computers in their laboratories, and Buz had previous experience with that brand. Buz had a Master’s degree in chemistry, so working in a genetics lab and then a pharmaceutical company was a natural choice for him.

I was really going to miss him at work, but it didn’t hurt our friendship at all because we were still getting together at least once a week outside of work.

Dale was the next to leave, leaving me as the last programmer there. When people started leaving, we had a fixed amount of money remaining. So every time someone left, there was more money for the rest of us before it ran out. I’m unsure how long I could have worked there on what was left when the other three people quit.

I developed health problems and had to quit shortly after Dale left. There will be a lot more details about my health condition and my departure from the department in future episodes.

Even after I had to quit work, Buz remained a very loyal friend.

He was a devout Methodist. He had been raised in a strict Baptist family, but when he went to college, he met people who were not as strict but were still devout Christians. He realized that some of the things that he was raised to believe were taboo really were not. You can go to R-rated movies, drink moderately, listen to rock music, and still be a good Christian. That’s when he converted to a different denomination.

At the time, I was completely away from the Catholic Church and seriously agnostic, if not totally atheist. We would have interesting theological discussions. Even if I was no longer involved in the church, I could still argue from the Catholic perspective. He didn’t pressure me to return to church, but he did encourage me to be open to the possibility. When I did get involved in the church again, he was very pleased, even if it was Catholicism and not a Protestant denomination.

I suggested that he was the most Catholic Protestant I had ever known, and he thought I was the most Protestant Catholic he had ever known. Neither of us was insulted by that description. We really respected one another.

In one of our theological discussions, he talked about avoiding sin. He taught me things I later incorporated into my lessons where I taught religion at St. Gabriel.

He said that it was improper to ask if something was or was not a sin. He said that when you ask such a question, it’s because you want to know exactly where the line is so you don’t cross it. Why do you need to know exactly where it is? That’s because you want to see how close you can come to the line without crossing. His approach was that you should know the general direction of where that line was and stay as far away from it as you could.

He said if you tiptoe up to that line, sometimes you stumble and cross it, so just don’t approach it. You should be asking how far away I can stay from the line so that when I mess up, I don’t cross it. I just get closer, but then I notice it and work my way back onto the right path.

I expanded upon his idea when I taught this lesson.

I said that when you ask, “Where is the line so I don’t cross it?” you are really saying, “How bad can I be before I get caught?” People do that all the time. They ask questions like, “How many miles an hour can I go over the speed limit before I get a ticket?” Or, “How many questionable deductions can I take on my taxes before it triggers an audit?”

Instead of asking, “Where is the line so I don’t cross it?” You should say, “How good can I be so that when I’m not my best, I’m still plenty good.”

I would give the following example.

Suppose you are engaged to be married, and you have the following conversation with your future spouse.

“Darling, you know that I love you very much.”

“And I love you too.”

“I would never want to do anything to hurt our relationship.”

“And I would never hurt you as well.”

“I’m in this for the long haul and never want to divorce you.”

“Okay… I would hope not.”

“So, tell me, dear, what the minimum I must do to keep you from ever wanting to divorce me so I know that I will never go below the minimum.”

At that point, your fiancé probably will cancel the wedding. If you are concerned with only doing the minimum to avoid divorce, then you are not very serious about having a good relationship.

Yet, when you ask, “Is this a sin?” that is exactly what you are doing in your relationship with God. You are asking what is the minimum that I have to do to avoid going to hell.

Buz taught me that lesson, which has lived on in my teaching for decades.

Later, Buz picked up some side programming jobs working for a local blood lab. They wouldn’t hire him on his own, but they agreed that if he worked for a software firm that they could invoice as a company, they could hire him as an independent contractor. I had my own one-man computer consulting company at the time, so I agreed to consider him my employee. I would bill them for his work, take a small percentage off the top, and pay him the rest.

Buz was a great help when I developed computer software for my disabled friend, Christopher Lee. The YouTube version includes photos of Buz and me working with Christopher.

One day, Buz accompanied me to Saint Gabriel’s because I needed to rewire the keyboard on their PC so that I could operate the shift and control buttons. I was typing with a stick in those days, so I had to have buttons on the end of a wire that I could hold in my left hand to hold down these modifier keys while typing with the stick in my right hand. I remember Fr. Paul asking him what kind of degree he had, hoping it had something to do with computers or electronics. When Buz said his degree was in chemistry, Father got a weird look on his face. I told him, “Don’t worry. We both know what we are doing.”

By the way, I wasn’t the only person who ended up using those extra buttons. A former associate pastor named Fr. Bob Klein had a stroke at a young age and lost much of the use of the left side of his body. He returned to Saint Gabriel’s and was cared for by a guy named Chuck, who lived in the parish rectory to help the priests. Fr. Bob made good use of those buttons for many years, thanks to Buz.

Eventually, Buz was laid off from Eli Lilly. He found a job in East Lansing, Michigan, and moved his family there. We stayed in touch via email. Every couple of years, he would come back to Indiana to visit friends and relatives and would visit with me. In October 1990, when I went to visit my friend Joyce in Detroit, he drove over from East Lansing, and we visited. The last I saw him in person was sometime in 2009. I don’t remember the exact date, but I know we went to see the original Avatar in IMAX 3D, which was released in 2009.

His son Nathan developed Hodgkinson’s disease as a young adult and eventually succumbed to it. It was a test of his faith, but because Buz was of such strong faith, he was able to endure this tragic loss. He videotaped the celebration of life for his son and sent me a copy because I had the ability to convert it to a DVD. Nathan also went by the nickname “Buz,” and it was eerie to hear his friends eulogize their late friend “Buz.”

My friend Buz later developed serious health problems and eventually had to quit work. In late March 2020, I had not heard from him in a few months. I emailed his wife and learned that he had succumbed a few weeks prior.

Buz once told me that he looked forward to the day when we would meet in heaven and we could walk up to each other and give each other a big hug. I told him that I thought in heaven I would still be in a wheelchair because this disability is so much part of my life. The thing that would be different in heaven was it wouldn’t matter that I was in a wheelchair. I told him that he and other friends and family already treated me in such a way that the wheelchair didn’t matter, which made it like heaven on earth.

He presumed, as did I, that he would outlive me, given my fragile health. Now, I am the one who will have to wait for the day when we can be reunited in the next life. And I will get to tell him, “I told you so,” when I roll up to him in my heavenly wheelchair.

Until then, my friend Buz, rest in peace.

In our next episode, we will discuss my remaining work at the department and the circumstances under which I eventually left for health reasons.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 77 – “Genetics 101”

In recent weeks, I’ve been talking about my work as a computer programmer for the Indiana University Department of Medical Genetics. This week, we take a departure to talk about the work that we did in that department. We will take a deep dive into basic genetics, and you will learn a little bit about the genetic disorder that causes my disability.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 77 of Contemplating Life.

In recent episodes, I’ve been discussing my work as a computer programmer for the IU Department of Medical Genetics. I wanted to tell a little bit about what we did in that department and how the computer database was used, but you know me. I can’t do anything halfway. So, this episode is going to be a little bit of a departure. It’s an explanation of everything I knew about genetics at the time, along with what I’ve learned in recent years. While trying to explain some of these things, I came up with questions I couldn’t answer, so I had to do some pretty hefty research to fill in those gaps in my knowledge. It marginally relates to my life story because we will also discuss how genetics play a part in my disability caused by Spinal Muscular Atrophy.

Hold on to your hats. This is going to be a deep dive into Genetics 101.

In the nucleus of every cell in your body are 46 strands of a molecule called deoxyribonucleic acid, or DNA for short. These 46 strands are called chromosomes.

By the way, everything I will say about chromosomes refers only to human chromosomes. Other species have different numbers of chromosomes, or their DNA may be arranged differently in the cell. So, I’m limiting our discussion to human chromosomes.

You’ve probably seen illustrations of what a DNA molecule looks like. I have some images in the YouTube version of this episode. Imagine a rope ladder that has been twisted. This shape is called a double helix. Each “rung” of the ladder consists of two molecules of amino acids. There are four such varieties of amino acids in DNA. They are adenine, thymine, cytosine, and guanine. They are designated by the letters A, T, C, and G, respectively.

Each ladder rung is either an A paired with a T or a G paired with a C. An A cannot pair with a G or C, nor can a T pair with a G or C. This is because A and T connect using two hydrogen atoms, while C and G connect using three hydrogen atoms

The “ropes” that hold these rungs in place are made of two strands that alternate between a sugar molecule and a phosphate molecule. The sugar molecule contains an asymmetrical ring of 5 carbon atoms. The phosphate groups connect to either carbon atom at position 3 or position 5. So, at the end of a DNA sequence, you always have either a 5-connected phosphate or a 3-connected phosphate. By convention, scientists read from the 5 end towards the 3 end because that’s the direction in which nature reads the DNA when it copies it during cell division.

For example, if you have a string of DNA that is AAGG because the A is always paired with a T and the G is always paired with a C, it could be just as easy to say that this sequence is TTCC. So you have to look at the end of the DNA sequence and see if its phosphate group is connected to carbon atom 3 or carbon atom 5. Always start at the end with the 5.

These strings of letters A, T, G, and C are codes that tell your body chemistry how to create proteins. They are divided into three character words called codons. There are 64 possible combinations. Each one is an instruction to create a particular amino acid. Proteins are long strings of amino acids. There are not 64 different amino acids. Some combinations of three letters produce the same amino acid. See the table linked in the description that shows which combination of DNA bases produces which amino acids.

An area on your chromosome that contains the instructions for producing one particular protein is called a gene. Not everything on a chromosome is significant. It is estimated that only 1.5% of human DNA actually does anything. The rest of it is random noise.

When a cell wants to produce a protein, it temporarily unzips the two halves of the DNA molecule, like cutting the ladder’s rungs. More amino acids connect to these broken ladder rungs to create a new molecule called messenger RNA, or mRNA. Once the mRNA is created, the DNA halves zip back together. The mRNA then produces the protein based on information provided by the DNA.

As I mentioned, chromosomes are simply long strands of DNA. Under a microscope, you normally cannot see DNA strands because they are all tangled up. However, when the cell divides, duplicating itself, the chromosomes bunch up and become visible lines. Before the cell divides, think of the tangled-up DNA as a bunch of USB cables tangled up in your junk drawer. You can’t make any sense of it. But as the cell divides and the DNA duplicates itself, each strand bunches up sort of like the curly cue cable on a landline telephone handset. When it’s all coiled up like that, you can see it under a microscope.

If you’ve seen photographs of chromosomes, they seem to have a characteristic X shape. Think of two long balloons, the type of which you use to make balloon animals, sitting side-by-side and tied together somewhere in the middle with a tight string. However, these are actually two chromosomes fastened together by something called a centromere. The centromere isn’t exactly in the center, so the short arm of the chromosome is called the “p” arm, and the long arm is called the “q” arm. When a cell completes division, the centromere breaks apart, giving two exact copies of the same chromosome. One goes into one cell and the other into the other cell. So, chromosomes are not really X-shaped except when they are self-duplicating. Normally, they are just single strings of DNA.

I learned this five minutes ago. My whole life, I thought chromosomes were roughly X-shaped because all the photos depict them that way. You learn something new every day.

Okay, let’s talk about human chromosomes, whatever the hell shape they really are.

Each cell contains 23 pairs of chromosomes, the first 22 of which are numbered 1 through 22. These are called autosomes. The longest one is chromosome 1, and the shortest is 22. Chromosome 1 is nearly 3 times longer than 22.

Well, almost. That ordering isn’t exactly accurate. For example, 21 is actually the shortest, and 20 is actually longer than 19. This is because back when they were numbering chromosomes, it was difficult to determine the exact length. They got it wrong. But by then, the labels had already been established, and they didn’t fix it.

You also have another pair of chromosomes called allosomes–also known as sex chromosomes. There are two varieties: X and Y. By the way, those labels have nothing to do with the appearance of the chromosomes; they are just labels they were given. I learned that about a year ago. I thought they looked like X and Y. But then again, I thought that all chromosomes had sort of an X-shape, and that was wrong, too.

By the way, the X chromosome is the eighth largest, and the Y is the third smallest.

In most human beings, females have two X chromosomes, while most males have an X and a Y. I said “most” because there are variations such as XXX, XYY, and all sorts of other combinations resulting in an intersex individual, but we won’t go into that right now.

You have two copies of chromosomes 1 through 22. One copy is from your mother, and the other is from your father. For the sex chromosomes, your mother gave you an X because she only had Xs to give. Your father had an X and a Y, so if he gave you an X, you would end up with two of them, and you would be female. If your father gave you a Y, then you ended up with an X and a Y, and you are male.

So, you are a mix of the genetic information from your mother and father. They each gave you one of each variety of chromosomes. But how do you pass that information along to your children?

I said that every cell contains 46 chromosomes, but that’s not entirely true. Men produce sperm, and women produce ova. These specialized cells (collectively known as gametes) only have 23 chromosomes. When the sperm and ovum combine during fertilization, that brings the number back up to the full 46.

Gametes are produced by specialized cells called germ cells, which undergo a special type of division known as meiosis. Meiosis is a complicated multi-step process that results in a unique mixture of maternal and paternal genetic material.

How do we determine which 23 of the 46 chromosomes go into your sperm or ova? Does it take a random sampling of the chromosomes given to you by your parents? Perhaps one of my sperm contains chromosomes 1, 3, 5, 9, etc., from my mom and 2, 4, 6, 8, etc., from my dad?

If that were the case, and we were sampling entire chromosomes, we wouldn’t have as much variety in human beings. Our family resemblance would be much more significant. The beauty of sexual reproduction is that we get a random mix of all of our genetic material each generation. The mix is more complicated than simply picking an entire chromosome from either grandma or grandpa.

During meiosis, the chromosomes undergo a process called recombination. Each chromosome is chopped up into random-length pieces, creating a new chromosome that contains sequences from both your mother and your father. This swapping between maternal and paternal DNA typically occurs between one to four times for each chromosome.

By the way, this creates a problem when creating sperm. Females have 2 X chromosomes, and they can be easily chopped up and recombined. However, men only have the maternal X and the paternal Y. How do you mix that up? The X and Y have a shared region known as the pseudoautosomal region or PAR. The PAR undergoes frequent recombination between the X and Y chromosomes, but recombination is suppressed in other regions of the Y chromosome that are unique to that chromosome. These regions contain sex-determining and other male-specific genes.

The bottom line is that the reason your children are not more identical than they are is because they have a truly random set of genetic material from you and your spouse–from your parents and your spouse’s parents.

This mixing of genes from both paternal and maternal sources when creating a gamete is important when you are trying to figure out if your children are going to inherit some genetic trait. Most importantly, the clients of our genetics department wanted to know if their children would inherit some genetic disorder. They might know that certain diseases, such as hemophilia, muscular dystrophy, Huntington’s disease, etc., run in their family. They want to know the odds their children will inherit the disease.

As mentioned previously, genes are instructions on how to create proteins. But there are varieties of each gene. For example, there is a gene that determines eye color. Or at least, to a certain extent, the difference between brown and blue eyes. There can be all sorts of shades of both, but the basic color is controlled by one gene. This eye color gene is in the same location, but the DNA sequence in the gene differs between brown-eyed people and blue-eyed people. Genes that have multiple varieties, such as the blue-eyed gene versus the brown-eyed gene, are called alleles.

In general, the brown-eyed allele is dominant, and the blue-eyed allele is recessive. Lots of genes have dominant and recessive alleles. So, let’s generalize this.

If we describe the brown allele as “D” for dominant and the blue allele as “R” for recessive, there are four possible combinations: DD, DR, RD, and RR. If we are talking about brown versus blue lies, then the DD, DR, and RD combinations give you brown eyes. Only people with two copies of the recessive allele, those with RR, will have blue eyes. That’s why we say the brown-eyed allele is dominant over the blue-eyed allele.

Designations such as DD, DR, RD, and RR are known as genotypes. However, your phenotype is the way you look externally, that is, whether you have brown or blue eyes.

The alleles for genetic disorders are mostly recessive. If they were not, genetic disorders would be much more common. Someone with a genotype of DR or RD is said to be a carrier of the disorder. You don’t exhibit the symptoms of the disease, but you can pass it along to your children if your spouse is also a carrier.

My disability is caused by a disease known as Spinal Muscular Atrophy. SMA for short. It is a recessive condition. So, my parents were both carriers. They had a genotype of DR or RD. If I had gotten the D allele from both of them, I would neither have the disease nor carry it. On average, there is a 25% chance of that happening. If I got an R from one and a D from the other, I would either be RD or DR, and like them, I would be a carrier but would not exhibit the disease. The odds of that happening are 25% + 25% = 50%. The odds of getting RR are 25%. Lucky me… That’s when I have. I exhibit the disease, and I naturally am a carrier. In this way, the disease can be passed down for many generations before it might appear. You have to have a mate who is also a carrier. Even if you have a partner who is also a carrier, on average, only one-fourth of your children will exhibit the disease.

Specifically, SMA is caused by a problem with the Survival Motor Neuron gene, also known as SMN1. It creates a protein called the SMN protein. This protein is essential to the survival of your motor neurons. These are the nerves that control your muscles – not the nerves for sensation. The SMN1 gene is located on the fifth chromosome at a location labeled 5q13.1. That means it’s on the number five chromosome on the q arm at location 13.1. I don’t know the details of how they came up with 13.1. It wasn’t worth it to research that.

Chromosomes consist of coded sections called exons and filler sections known as introns. The SMN1 gene consists of 9 exons. Somewhere along the way in my genetic history, the 7th exon was deleted. Something during the DNA replication process caused that section to be left out. Think of cutting a scene out of a piece of film and splicing it back together. Without that properly formed gene, the SMN protein is not properly created to feed your motor neurons. The motor neuron dies off, which eventually causes your muscles to atrophy.

The only reason people with SMA survive is that we have at least one backup gene, SMN2. Most people have at least one copy of SMN2 and may have as many as four or five copies. Unfortunately, in everyone’s SMN2 gene, there is a problem. It is identical to SMN1 except for one letter in the sequence. There is a T where there should have been a C. The end result is that SMN2 only creates the proper protein about 10% of the time. People with the deleted section in SNM1 have lower levels of the SMN protein because the SMN2 gene doesn’t work as well as it should. People with less severe forms of the disease generally have multiple copies of SMN2. Specifically, I have two copies. Even among individuals with the same number of SMN2 backup genes, there can be a variety of severities of the disease. There must be other factors involved besides the number of SMN2 genes.

For nearly 3 years, I’ve been taking a drug called Evrysdi, which makes the SMN2 genes work better. Children who begin receiving the drug at an early age can keep their motor neurons from dying off. At best, the drug keeps me from getting worse, or if I deteriorate, I will do so much more slowly than I would have without it.

Sometimes, the gene which causes a particular disorder is located on the X chromosome. For example, the most common type of muscular dystrophy, Duchenne muscular dystrophy, is that way. So is hemophilia. If you are female, you would have a good X and a bad X, but the good one is dominant, so you would carry the disease but not exhibit it. However, if you are male, your Y chromosome doesn’t have that section, so it can’t compensate for the bad X. So typically, only males get the disease. The females carry it.

The only way a female could get muscular dystrophy or hemophilia is if their mother was a carrier and their father had the disease. Then you can get a bad X from both. But that’s extremely rare.

Such conditions are called “sex-linked traits” because males exhibit the disease and inherit it from their mothers.

I always knew that whatever I had, it wasn’t Duchenne muscular dystrophy, but for many years, I incorrectly presumed that it was probably a sex-linked condition just like DMD. It isn’t. My disease comes from chromosome 5 and not X or Y.

Here’s a funny story for you…

One day, I was at a conference with my friend Joyce. I was trying to explain to someone this phenomenon of a sex-linked trait. After telling people about my condition, which I presumed was sex-linked, they misunderstood me. Later, Joyce overheard them discussing it, and they thought a sexually transmitted disease caused my disability.

Well… In some respects, it was. All genetic conditions are sexually transmitted. Your parents had sex, and you inherited the disease. I don’t know if this confusion has occurred in other settings, but more modern terminology is that such conditions are called X-linked dominant, X-linked recessive, and Y-linked diseases rather than sex-linked.

Okay, here’s an old Dad joke. Did you know that diarrhea is genetic?

It runs in your jeans.

Anyway… Let’s get back to the story about the work we did in the genetics department. When I worked there in the late 1970s, the state of the art of genetics was not as advanced as it is today. I don’t know if it was impossible or just extremely difficult to find out the exact sequence of A, T, C, and G in a particular location. Scientists were uncertain about the location of a gene or genes that cause a particular disorder.

Our database stored information on “genetic markers” for each person in the database. A genetic marker is a gene or other sequence of DNA at a known location on a particular chromosome. For it to be most useful, it should be something you can easily test for, such as blood type. In addition to blood types A, B, AB, and O with both positive and negative Rh factors, there are other blood types and biological serums that can easily be collected and tested. Our database included information on about 15-20 different genetic markers. I forget exactly how many markers we could track or what they were.

So, if you have a genetic trait that you cannot directly test for but you know that the gene is adjacent to something you can test for, the way that chromosomes get chopped up and recombined during meiosis means that it is highly likely that if you inherited a genetic marker from your parents, a gene near that marker would also be inherited.

Hypothetically, let’s presume your mom is blood type O and your dad’s blood type A. Your blood type will be A because that’s dominant over type O. Now, let’s presume there is a gene that is near the blood type gene on the same chromosome. Let’s presume that this mystery gene causes some genetic disease. We have no way to test for it directly. Or at least we didn’t in the late 1970s.

Furthermore, let’s say your dad is a carrier of this disease, but your mom is not. You want to know if you inherited that bad gene from your dad or if you got a good variety from your mom. If your blood type is O, that means that section of that chromosome came from your mom. It is highly unlikely that during meiosis, the recombination will split exactly between your blood type gene and the bad gene we are worried about. That means it’s likely that section of chromosome came from your mom and not your dad, so you don’t have anything to worry about. On the other hand, if your blood type is A, like your dad’s, it is highly likely you also inherited that adjacent bad gene.

Scientists also used this method to determine the location of particular genes. For example, Huntington’s disease is an inherited degenerative neurological disease. By studying the genetic markers of thousands of individuals who either have or carry the disease, scientists could indirectly determine the location of the gene that causes it. Scientists at some other universities narrowed down the location of the Huntington’s gene, and data from our database, which included a large number of Huntington’s families, was used to verify the results of their findings.

In the YouTube version of this podcast, you can see an article from the Journal “Nature” where they announced the discovery of the genetic marker for Huntington’s disease. I’ve also linked the article in the description.

One of the co-authors of the article is P. Michael Conneally, who was a geneticist at the IU Department of Medical Genetics when I worked there. He was the guy with the thick Irish accent who took my phone call when I first applied for the job.

Although this article wasn’t published until November 1983, we knew that they had discovered the gene in the late 1970s when I still worked there. Apparently, they just narrowed it down. Wikipedia reports that the exact location wasn’t determined until 1993.

By the way, I’ve also linked the Wikipedia article about Dr. Conneally, who had many accomplishments, including the discovery of over 20 human genes. He was a founding member of the department. He died in 2017. He was a great guy.

In 1990, the Human Genome Project was started. Its goal was to sequence the entire human set of chromosomes. They took samples from several donors and produced a map of all 24 varieties of human chromosomes, that is, chromosomes 1 through 22 and X and Y. They were able to sequence 92.1% of human DNA. The parts they could not sequence are the little regions where the chromosomes get tied together, called centromeres, and the ends of the chromosomes, called telomeres. But those generally are not significant.

The guesswork that had to be done using genetic markers and probabilities that we worked on in the 1970s is no longer necessary, but we did some groundbreaking work at the time.

I’m proud to know that the database I helped build was used to identify the gene that causes a serious genetic disorder like Huntington’s disease.

That was a very long, highly technical podcast just to explain what that previous sentence meant. But you learned a little genetics along the way, especially as it relates to my disability.

In our next episode, we will discuss my remaining work at the department and the circumstances under which I eventually left for health reasons.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 76a – “There is Always More to Learn”

This week, I discussed my obsessive need to leave no gaps in these stories. I discovered some additional information that should’ve been in the previous episode, and I just couldn’t proceed without filling in the extra details. I also tried creating some illustrations using ChatGPT in this episode, so I highly recommend that you watch the YouTube version rather than listen to this episode.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to a special episode of Contemplating Life. Although I tried to keep these episodes completely listenable, you might want to check out the YouTube version because it focuses heavily on images I found of the old computer we used in the Genetics Department.

I’ve also included some ChatGPT-generated images to illustrate a story. So, I really recommend you watch the YouTube version if you can.

Because I consider it an addendum to episode 76, I’m calling this one Episode 76a, titled “There is Always More to Learn.”

I heard a parable once about a man who had spent his entire lifetime collecting knowledge. One day, he realized that all that knowledge would be lost when his life was over. So he set about the task of trying to write down everything he knew so that he could share it with the world and leave a legacy. He ascended the steps of his ivory tower, where, surrounded by his hundreds of books, he would write his magnum opus.

As he wrote, he realized there were gaps in his knowledge, so he set about doing more research to fill those gaps so that his work would be complete. He became so processed with his work that he slept little and often forgot to eat. He ignored such niceties as taking care of personal hygiene. Eventually, his obsession got the better of him. He was discovered one day slumped over his desk, deceased.

The person who found him gave him a respectable burial and then set about cleaning up the mess in the ivory tower. Over 1,000 pages of handwritten manuscript were scattered about the room, but the material was so disorganized that he could not make any sense of it. He gathered it up, disposed of it, and sold off the vast library to pay for the deceased’s expenses.

I felt convicted when I heard this story because, at the time, I was keeping an extensive personal journal about my life. But I shared it with only a small handful of people.

I would have some experience in my life and then spend days and days chronicling it for the journal. I realized I was spending more time writing about my life than I was living it. As a result of this epiphany, I pledged to share my work with a wider audience. The result was a publication of my award-winning article “The Reunion,” which I shared here in Episode 22.

I learned the lesson of the parable well: You have to share your knowledge and cannot be so obsessed with its mere collection.

Unfortunately, I still suffer from the concept that my work has to be 100% complete. I have not yet fully embraced the realization that such 100% completion is impossible. You have seen this obsession at work in me because I often have to tell a lengthy backstory before I can tell the story I really want to tell. As I write this podcast and share it with the world, I’m continually troubled by the gaps I have left in the story and still am obsessed with filling those gaps.

For example, in our next episode, I wanted to tell about the work we did in the genetics lab. However, I realized that I had to give some background on basic genetics for you to understand it. As I was explaining the genetics, I discovered gaps in my knowledge. And like the man in the ivory tower, I had to fill those gaps before I could proceed. Episode 77 will be titled “Genetics 101.” After hearing the episode, you may think it was more of a 300 or 400-level course, but I still call it Genetics 101. When I was finally sufficiently satisfied that I had covered the topic well enough, I started work on episodes 78 and 79.

Episode 79 will discuss the consequences of the departure of the department chairman, Dr. Donald Merritt, who had hired me. I couldn’t recall the name of the guy who took over as acting chair. A Google search for chairpersons of the Indiana University Department of Medical Genetics led me to a photograph of Dr. Merritt and another of the other geneticists who worked on the project and was my supervisor, Dr. Kewon Kang. They were posing, looking at a computer printout, and were seated in front of our department’s PDP 11/70 minicomputer.

As I write this episode, I published episode 76 just four days ago. In the YouTube version, I included many photos of other people’s PDP 11/70 machines because I thought there was no way on earth I would ever have a photo of the machine I used. I was so angry I had not discovered this photo earlier so that it could be included in episode 76.

Furthermore, that episode included extensive technical details about the hardware, especially as it was configured in our department. However, the photo refreshed my memory about a piece of hardware I had forgotten about and another minor piece of hardware I chose not to write about.

Well hell… What to do about that? Just include the new photo in episode 79 identifying the two men and saying, “By the way, that’s our actual machine in the background.” I could do that. But what about that hardware in the photo that I didn’t describe when I talked about the machine in the last episode? It’s just sitting there in the background, screaming at me, “Chris! You didn’t talk about me. How could you be so negligent to talk about this computer and leave me out of the story.”

The realization that I had left out this detail was like dangling a bunch of drugs in front of an addict.

So, an obsession compels me to tell you about that stupid couple of pieces of hardware, or I won’t make it to the next episodes. I can just imagine myself on my deathbed, feeling devastated that I left out these details. Okay… perhaps it isn’t that bad, but it’s closer than you think. The result is I’m going to tell you about the stupid hardware anyway.

See the YouTube video version of this episode to see the photo in question and to follow along with the following explanation.

The older Spencerguy on the right is Dr. Merritt, whom you’ve already heard about in previous episodes. The guy on the left is Dr. Kang, who will be featured in episode 79.

To the upper right of Merritt’s head are several rows of tape spools known as DECtapes. Everything in a Digital Equipment Corporation computer seems to have the prefix “DEC” in front of it. DECtape, DEC-System-10 percent, DECwriter, and so on. The outer rim of the spool was 3-7/8″ in diameter. The inner diameter where the tape was wound was 2-3/4″, so the wound tape only occupied about 1-inch thickness. The tape was 3/4″ wide. The spool was stored in a translucent plastic container, usually with a blue tint. There was a paper sticker on the front where you could write identifying information. They were used on a variety of Digital Equipment Corporation computers, including the DEC-System 10 that I used in college.

Students in computer science were permitted to purchase one of these tapes for their personal use. I don’t recall what they cost, but I think it was around $10. I owned one in those days. I used it to keep an archive of all the programs I wrote and a few computer games on the system. I could’ve transferred those programs from the University’s DEC-10 to our department’s PDP 11, but I don’t think I ever did. I’m not sure what happened to my DECtape. I haven’t seen it in decades, and I probably threw it away because I didn’t have any way to get the information off it anymore.

The tape would store 184K of data. It was formatted in blocks that could be randomly read and written, so it had its own file directory at the beginning of the tape and a file system. Functionally, it was like a floppy disk on early personal computers. It was slow but not prohibitively so. The tape could be wound from end to end in about 30 seconds. The only other way students had to store programs was punched paper tape on the teletype machines. That was a pain to use.

I don’t recall ever using the DECtapes in my two years at the genetics department. I have no idea what was on those tapes, but I presume it was some sort of backup. I believe that they also used them to distribute updated software from DEC headquarters to our facility.

The two white circles to the left of Dr. Kang’s head are DECtape spools mounted on the TU56 DECtape drive. That drive would hold two tapes. You cannot see the other spools behind his head. I have included a photo of a DECtape drive that I found online. I remembered that we had DECtape drives on our machine, but I didn’t bother to talk about them in the last episode because I don’t recall ever using them.

In the background, between the two men, you can see one of two RK05 disk drives known as DECpacks. I couldn’t remember what they were called. I had to zoom in on the photo to see the word “DECpack” and then do some Google searches to get the technical details.

They contained a removable cartridge containing a single 14-inch disk platter that would hold about 2.5 MB. I vaguely recall that we used them for backup purposes.

So there it is. I can now sleep at night now that I haven’t left a gap in the story. At least, unlike the guy in the parable, I shared it with you before I died.

In episode 77, which I’ve already written, I will take a deep dive into genetics just so that I can tell you about a paragraph’s worth of explanation of what we did in the department. It’s another one of those instances where I had to tell you a huge amount of background just so I can tell you one little thing. In fact, that’s what I did in this episode. I gave you a huge amount of background just to tell you what a DECtape and DECpack were.

Episode 78 will be about a new guy who joined the programming staff in the genetics department and became a very dear friend.

Episode 79 will describe my departure from the department.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. Even if I am too long-winded. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.

Contemplating Life – Episode 76 – “The Quality of the Debate”

This week, we continue reminiscing about my first and only full-time job as a computer programmer. I worked in the IU Department of Medical Genetics along with my college mentor, Dr. John Gersting.

Links of Interest

Support us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/contemplatinglife
Where to listen to this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/contemplatinglife
YouTube playlist of this and all other episodes: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFFRYfZfNjHL8bFCmGDOBvEiRbzUiiHpq

YouTube Version

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Yuzq0JlXrg

Shooting Script

Hi, this is Chris Young. Welcome to episode 76 of Contemplating Life.

This week, we continue reminiscing about my first and only full-time job as a computer programmer. I worked in the IU Department of Medical Genetics along with my college mentor, Dr. John Gersting.

I don’t recall what hourly rate I was paid when I went full-time at the genetics department, but it was substantially more than I made as a student programmer. I recall that my annual total came out to about $11,700 per year, which may not seem like much, but that would be about $56,500 in today’s dollars. According to a website I found, that is well above what an entry-level programmer would make in Indianapolis today. I don’t have statistics for how it ranks in the late 70s. There was a common conception that jobs in academia did not pay as well as those in business or industry, and computer programmers were in short supply in those days, so I probably could’ve earned much more elsewhere. But I really liked the job. I liked working with Gersting even though he was just a part-time consultant on the project, and it was very convenient for me.

As I mentioned previously, I would ride to work each day with my dad. I would arrive around 8:30, and most department employees began work at 9. I would leave each day at 4:30, while the others stayed until 5. My bosses were quite understanding. This schedule worked well for me and my dad.

As I had predicted, limiting my work to just 40 hours per week was a great relief compared to the frantic schedule of being a college student. The only challenge was it was quite tough to get up that early. Mom would get me dressed every morning while Dad was getting ready for work. Often, it felt like I slept through it. I joked, “Sometimes I wake up in the lobby of Riley Hospital and don’t have any idea how I got there. I have to wake up to drive to the elevator, go down to the basement, and to my office.”

The department had its own minicomputer, a Digital Equipment Corporation PDP 11/70. The term “minicomputer” was relative to the huge mainframe computers of the day. This minicomputer had significantly less computing power than today’s desktop PCs, which are called microcomputers. The PDP 11 was a 16-bit computer, whereas today’s PCs are 64-bit. The minimum configuration of a PDP 11 had only 4k of memory, although the 11/70 was expandable to 4MB. I don’t know how much memory our computer had.

By size comparison, it was huge. It sat in a row of four cabinets about 2 and a half feet square and about 6 feet tall. The front panel has lots of blinking lights and toggle switches. See the YouTube version of this episode for photos of similar machines. One of the cabinets contained a 12-inch tape drive that we used to back up our data from the hard drives. In the center of the room sat two large cabinets slightly smaller than a washing machine. These were our RM05 hard disk drives. A removable stack of 12 disk platters that were 14 inches in diameter was inserted into the drive. Only 19 of the 24 surfaces of these platters were used for writing data. The others were protective platters or contained information that helped position the read/write heads and index the sectors and tracks of the disk platters.

Each of these two drives held only 256 MB. Your smartphone likely has at least 32 GB, or 8 times as much storage. My desktop has several drives that can hold 1 TB, which would be 8,000 times more than these washing machine-sized cabinets.

Periodically, we would back up the entire system. You would take the system offline, put a backup platter stack into one of the machines, and copy the other drive in its entirety. Then, you would remove both of those and copy the second drive to a backup.

We had two printers connected to the machine. One was a traditional line printer, and the other looked like a laser printer but used special chemically treated paper. I have no idea how it worked.

We had 4 CRT terminals and a DEC-Writer teletype machine connected by serial cables.

The computer room had its own air conditioning unit, but it wasn’t like we had to use clean room protocols in the area. We could come and go as we pleased. I remember the air conditioning being quite noisy.

As I mentioned, we were in the hospital’s basement. Next to the computer, they had drilled a hole in the concrete floor and driven into it a copper stake about 3/4 inch in diameter. Connected to the stake was a large braided copper cable that grounded the computer. About once a week, someone had to take a watering can and pour water around the ground stake so that it would make good contact with the earth. On occasion, we would forget to do so, and the computer would start acting crazy. We would water the ground stake and do a reboot, and it would work fine.

I’ve told you about the other student programmers who worked with me that one summer, but I’ve not told you about the three other full-time programmers who worked there while I was there.

The full-time programmers worked in three offices adjacent to the computer room, while the student programmers and I worked in an office across the hall. Adjacent to the room I worked in was a genetics lab. Apparently, they used mildly radioactive reagents in some of the lab work, so there was a sticker on the door with a radiation symbol and a warning that read, “Radioactive materials used inside.” Someone had written below that the words “pre-faded genes only.”

Unfortunately, I don’t remember all of the other programmers’ names. There was a guy whose name, I think, was Steve or Joe or something similar. For future reference, we will call him Steve, but I don’t guarantee that was his name. He was a talented programmer who managed to get that graphics family tree program working to a certain extent. He was a nice enough guy but a bit of an introvert and not very sociable. I didn’t get to know him well.

There was a very outgoing African-American woman named Dale who was very friendly, and I got along well with her. We joked around a lot. More stories about her in a minute.

The third woman, I think her name was Linda, was in her mid-30s, divorced, and I believe had a couple of kids. She had a grumpy attitude most of the time, but occasionally, she would come in Monday morning with a large smile and a cheerful attitude. We learned that on these occasions, she had spent the weekend sleeping with her ex-husband even though they had been completely divorced for a couple of years. This seemed to drive Dale crazy because her relationship with her ex was nothing like that. It was funny to watch Dale rant and rave about the situation.

Dale was a devout religious woman. She taught Sunday school in her church. I don’t know what Protestant denomination she belonged to. But one day, she was struggling with her lesson plan for, I believe, kindergarten or first-grade children. She said, “The Scripture reading this week is from the Book of Revelation, where it says that in the end times, the sun will go black and the moon will turn to blood.” She knew that I taught Scripture classes at my church and wanted my advice on how to teach young children about the end times. “What do I do,” she asked. “Have them draw a picture of the night sky and color the moon red?”

I asked her, “Why do you want to teach the end of the world to a bunch of 5 or 6-year-olds? Isn’t it better to say that someday Jesus will return, and there will be signs that we can see that he is coming back? Tell them to look at the leaves in the fall, which is a sign that winter is coming. Or tell them to look at the flowers and the grass in the spring, which is a sign that summer is coming. We don’t know exactly what kind of signs we will see when Jesus comes, but they will be there. You can’t get caught up in the details. Find the message behind the Scripture.”

I tried to explain to her that the prophecies of Revelation were symbolic. When it says that the sun will turn black and the moon will turn red, it’s just talking about solar and lunar eclipses. Naturally, during a solar eclipse, the sun goes black. During a lunar eclipse, the earth casts a shadow on the moon, and the scattering of sunlight through the Earth’s atmosphere gives the moon a red tinge. Ancient people believed that eclipses were an omen of something serious coming.

“But it doesn’t say there’s going to be an eclipse,” she protested. “It says the moon will turn to blood.”

I said, “Just so I understand– You really believe that at the end of the world, the moon will suddenly transform from a giant rock into a huge drop of human blood?”

“Of course not,” she replied. “It doesn’t say human blood. It just says blood.”

“Sorry, Dale. You’re on your own on this one,” I said.

I mentioned that when I first tried to inquire about the job, Dr. Coneally was in a weekly staff meeting with Dr. Gersting and others. Although I didn’t attend those meetings as a student programmer, I did attend once I worked there full-time. We met in a conference room on the ground floor. The programming staff, including Gersting, sat on one side of the table, and the genetics staff, including the department chairman, Dr. Merritt, sat on the other.

Because it is difficult for me to turn my head side to side, I generally sat at the head or foot of the table so that I could look slightly left or right to make eye contact with either side of the table.

The programming staff had difficulty explaining to the genetics people what was going on and what challenges we were facing in getting the software up and running. Similarly, the MDs on the other side of the table had trouble expressing themselves in language that the programmers could understand.

Of course, I understood the programming issues pretty well, and having lived my life with a genetic disease, I knew enough genetics to follow along even if I was no expert. So there I sat with PhDs on either side of me who could not communicate with one another because they were so stuck in their own jargon that they couldn’t speak plain English. Often, I found myself innocently saying something like, “So what you are saying, Dr. Gersting is…” And then I would repeat the same thing in plain English. And I occasionally had to reinterpret what the genetics people were saying in plain English. The response generally was, “Why didn’t he just say that?” That’s what I wanted to know. Why can’t they just speak plain English?

It frustrated me that I was surrounded by highly educated people with such poor communication skills.

After these Friday staff meetings, Gersting and the computing staff would return to our dungeon offices. Gersting would sit back in his chair and say, “I don’t know if we accomplished anything today, but the quality of the debate was much improved.”

I’ve been using that sentence for decades, especially during some of those contentious Finance Committee and Parish Council meetings that I had at Saint Gabriel during my years of ministry there. Sometimes, success is measured in such tiny increments that simply getting your point across can be considered a victory.

I’d like to think that in my two years working in the genetics department, I contributed to improving the quality of the debate.

In our next episode, we will discuss my remaining work at the department and the circumstances under which I eventually left for health reasons.

If you find this podcast educational, entertaining, enlightening, or even inspiring, consider sponsoring me on Patreon for just $5 per month. You will get early access to the podcast and other exclusive content. Although I have some financial struggles, I’m not really in this for money. Still, every little bit helps.

As always, my deepest thanks to my financial supporters. Your support means more to me than words can express.

Even if you cannot provide financial support. Please, please, please post the links and share this podcast on social media so that I can grow my audience. I just want more people to be able to hear my stories.

All of my back episodes are available, and I encourage you to check them out if you’re new to this podcast. If you have any comments, questions, or other feedback, please feel free to comment on any of the platforms where you found this podcast.

I will see you next time as we continue contemplating life. Until then, fly safe.