Forgotten Genius

In this time and age where it is difficult to find something to look at on television worthwhile, I was granted a blessing this past week. Outside of ESPN, CSPAN and the occasional show on HGTV, it is not easy to find material that makes one want to sit down and view it in its completeness with their family. This past week, the Public Broadcasting Service series NOVA aired the life story of one of the most remarkable scientist of the 20th century, Percy Julian.

As a child, I grew up idolizing Dr. Julian because I was always interested in chemical and chemistry and blowing up stuff, but never knew of any other chemist other than him growing up in Memphis. Born the grandson of slaves in Alabama, he attended DePauw University in Indiana. Just to pay for his education he worked as a waiter and even a ditch digger. He received his A.B. in 1920, graduated Phi Beta Kappa and was the valedictorian of his class. It was his goal to become only the second African American with a Ph.D. in Chemistry at the time. However, even with good grades, no school would offer him entry in such a program. Even the people who wrote letters of recommendation for him explaining his brilliance asked the universities of his selection to discourage him from getting a Ph.D.

Eventually, he went to Fisk University as an instructor in chemistry and eventually to Harvard as an Austin fellow. He received his Masters at Harvard, but was unable to seek his Ph.D. Julian had to travel to Europe where he finally received his PhD in chemistry from the University of Vienna in 1931.

Although he loved academic science, it was difficult, because of minor scandals and racism, for Dr. Julian to work in Academia. However, he was able to secure a job with the Glidden Company as the Director of Research and Development – this was some decade before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in baseball. Julian’s accomplishments are many folds: he synthesized a soy sterol to manufacture male and female hormones, progesterone and testosterone. Julian also synthesized the medicines physostigmine for glaucoma and cortisone for rheumatoid arthritis. He held more than 100 patents.

The show was aptly called "Forgotten Genius”. I was just happy to be able to see such greatness, such stamina and such perseverance at a time when children are up and feeling blessed that I was able to share this moment with my son and daughter. Good Look Nova that was the bomb show.

Death Do Us Part

As a father my nigger, I can’t imagine what Tony Dungy is going through. I don’t know if he is like me - my first born is my son, I'd be losing control. According to reports, James Dungy, the 18-year-old son of the Indianapolis Colts head coach, was found dead. At 6 feet seven, he was a massive figure of a young man.

If you have been sleeping under a rock, Dungy is the head coach of a team who just received their first lost and known for being the scape goat for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The year they fired him, his team, and not John Gruden’s, won the Super Bowl. Dungy is a man of stern character and always has the right things to say all the time. Albeit I never met the man, I sincerely suspect that he is a man in all since of the word, meaning his family (immediate and football team) come first.

The situation really puts things in perspective. After all, we are grown men who query at the extremes about a game and sport called football. We, in particular reporters - which am not, ask questions about the mundane and decisions on a 100 yard field that really don’t add much to the lexicon of daily life styles, choices and values.

According to ESPN, the medical examiner's office has not announced the exact cause of death which will be determined by an autopsy, scheduled for Friday morning. Like I said, I could not begin to fathom, how I would feel, being successful, and extremely involved in my son’s life, to hear that he was dead at such a tender age. Please , you men especially, grab your son’s, little brother’s, cousin’s and nephews and show them their value while they are still alive - all precious gifts leave our fold sooner or latter. Let’s just pray that it is latter.