Farm Report
NEWS FROM INSIDE CAMPUS DRIVE AND BEYOND
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Quote "The person does not have to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but small ones would be good." -- John Etchemendy, PhD '82, professor of philosophy and member of the presidential search committee, at the press conference announcing the selection of John Hennessy as Stanford's 10th president |
Class Brains
That 1995 visit was, of course, a smash hit. "There was this buzz," says Newsome, who has steadily expanded the program. In February, his graduate students ran brain workshops for all seventh-graders in the Palo Alto school system. The kids got to see brains from rats, fish, owls, monkeys and humans. "It clears up a lot of misconceptions," says science teacher Beverly Woodruff. "And they get to see how many wrinkles there are in a brain -- a lot!" |
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A Bowling Team with Attitude to Spare
In the stodgy world of college bowling, the team stands out for its wacky antics and carefree attitude. Players go by whimsical nicknames -- Dr. Smooth, Wolfman, Big Wave Dave -- and compete for awards for the most "creative bowl." The Band's ever-colorful mascot, the Tree, has joined the squad on occasion. President Gerhard Casper is even an unofficial team member. "We've gone to tournaments and really spiced things up," says Bullard, whose personal high score is a 225. "We're there to remind everyone to have a good time, because that's what bowling should be all about." The team also has a thriving community-service program. Last fall, it sponsored its second annual charity tournament to benefit the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. This spring, with prize money from the Stanford Alumni Association's Pierce Award, the team launched its "Born to Bowl" program. For three Saturdays in April, team and community members taught the art of bowling to second- and third-graders from Escondido, an elementary school on campus. "Basically, we're just trying to get an early edge on the recruitment process with these kids," Bullard jokes. "We want them growing up and thinking of bowling when they think of Stanford." |
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A Wine Gadget for the Urologist in All of UsThe idea came to him in a dream. After a day spent removing a patient's kidney stone and an evening spent trying to extract a brittle cork from a bottle of expensive liqueur, Los Angeles urologist Marty Gelbard, '72, put two and two together -- in his sleep. The home craftsman awoke with a plan and rushed to his workshop to fashion the original Corkfish from heavy-duty wire. Based on a device called the kidney-stone basket -- a basic tool for urologists -- the stainless steel Corkfish can extract both intact and broken corks that get pushed into bottles, saving home connoisseurs and restaurant sommeliers the indignity of filtering the contents into a decanter. "There are other gadgets out there to get out corks," says Gelbard," but none that get out the pieces." The Corkfish comes with a "fishing tips" sheet that helps in retrieving corks from more complicated bottles, like cabernets. On the market since last winter, the $20 Corkfish is already a favorite at Napa Valley's upscale grocery Dean & Deluca, which has placed multiple reorders with Cortech, Gelbard's fledgling company. "It's pretty easy," he says of his invention. "Plus it's kind of fun just to fiddle around with." Pulitzer-Worthy
He was honored for Freedom from Fear: The American People in Depression and War, 1929-1945, a 936-page magnum opus that was 11 years in the writing. "We've established a firm tradition," Kennedy, '63, says. "Every person who has been seated in the Coe chair has won a Pulitzer. First there was David Potter, then Donald Fehrenbacher, then I held the chair briefly, and now it's Jack [Rakove]. So the chair is a charm." Rakove was one of the first people to pop his head into Kennedy's office on the day the prize was announced. "Did you win?" he asked. "As a matter of fact, I did," Kennedy replied. Unbeknownst to Kennedy, Rakove was one of the three jurors who picked this year's nominees. Kennedy was nominated for a 1981 Pulitzer for Over Here: The First World War and American Society, but he lost to a book about 19th-century education. He prefers this year's result: "I think it was Nixon who said, 'I've won and I've lost, and I can tell you winning feels better.' " |
In Reno, a Piece of the Action
The surprise hit when Stanford was named a "necessary party" in a dispute between a group of casinos and Reno's city hall. The casinos challenged the city's right to charge rent for skywalks built over downtown streets. When city lawyers searched land titles, they had a shock. The "Big Four" railroad barons -- Leland Stanford, Collis Huntington, Charles Crocker and Mark Hopkins -- who collectively owned downtown Reno in the 19th century did dispose of land lots 130 years ago, but they never specifically sold the streets. Reno wanted the Big Four heirs (UC's stake is 50 percent and Stanford's 25 percent) to give up any claims. Instead, the universities hired a lawyer to defend their interests. The matter now rests with a district court judge. "We have a good claim," says Zumwalt, who expects a decision soon. If Stanford wins, she says, "we would work with the city of Reno" to arrive at a suitable settlement. Until then, all bets are off. |
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The Ultimate Comeback for a Frisbee World ChampForget baseball. For Alexander Peters, spring means the start of ultimate frisbee's new season. Peters, '80, is captain of Cigar, the world champion over-30 ultimate team. In August, he scored the final goal in Cigar's 19-9 victory over an Australian squad at the international games in Scotland. It was a bigger triumph than most people can imagine. When Peters was 16, he fell 300 feet down a mineshaft while hiking in England. Doctors didn't expect him to survive. As a student at Stanford, he spent about six hours a day in physical therapy. By the end of senior year, Peters's left knee was starting to bend again. In his last quarter, he was able to play on Stanford's ultimate team. The Manhattan real estate broker has played competitively ever since. He relishes the game's intense athleticism: for roughly two hours, players run, leap, catch and throw a flying Discraft (which has replaced the Wham-O Frisbee as the disc of choice). "It's completely exhausting," he says. "You're sprinting from the moment you're on the field to the moment you're off." But he is even more passionate about the game's ethical component. Players operate under an honor system, and even at the world championships there are no referees. Imagine the Yankees and Dodgers calling their own plays in the World Series. |