Wood's Words: Sandy S. Ginsberg ‘54
Jim F. Wood ‘64
The CAMP atrium was crowded- and the low hum of conversation and congratulations floated off its walls and ceiling. Perhaps 125 honorees, faculty, administration and invited guests mingled before the evening’s dinner and in anticipation of the more formal announcements to be made at Clarkson University’s Commencement the following day. The small ensemble played Mozart, Bach and Liszt in an enclave near the display proclaiming important advances in science by Mr. Wallace H. Coulter, a major benefactor of Clarkson University. The Coulter Principle is the most widely used method for counting and sizing microscopic particles suspended in a fluid. It revolutionized medical research and diagnostics and permitted Mr. Coulter to create many breakthroughs in modern hematology analysis.
Egon was there, surrounded by admirers asking questions about the amazing response to his 2006-2007 United States tour, which continues this summer with visits to Chicago and Syracuse, followed by more formal campus recognition this October. Nearly 300 alumni have been to these events and listened to his lecture on fine particles and watched him create verbal and visual magic about a science he has spent a lifetime researching and explaining.
Dr. Andrew Palmer stood at one edge of the crowd, an inviting smile on his face and his head cocked slightly as one might do if listening to a person speak in a quiet voice. He is the world’s leading authority on the influence of seabed cyclic pressures, temperature changes and plate tectonics on the movement of pipes lying on the ocean floor. Dr. Palmer is the Keppel Chair Professor in the Department of Civil Engineering at the National University of Singapore and is much in demand as a consultant and lecturer when the Oil Majors search for new reserves in deep waters, far from the safety of continental shelves. With him are colleagues from Harvard, Brown and Cambridge who have traveled to Potsdam to witness his acceptance of an honorary doctorate degree from Clarkson University.
Talking with President and Mrs. Collins is Dr. Santokh Badesha, a researcher and Xerox Fellow at the Xerox Corporation who, in only twenty-years since leaving the University of Leicester in England, may rival Thomas Edison as a creative genius with more than 150 patents in his name. His eyes light up and his broad smile reflects happy reaction to a handshake and good wishes from another of the guests. His entourage is present to witness his acceptance of an honorary doctorate at the Commencement ceremony.
Amidst and among the random movement of these guests, their eyes met and locked on each other from opposite sides of the room. The 15 years since their last time together had treated him well. The dark inquisitive eyes were still crowned by arched eyebrows with their hint of self –deprecation and surprise. The wiry, un-parted hair had thinned a bit, but was only half gray and sat above the high studious forehead and the prominent aquiline nose. He wore a jacket and tie that hung loosely and swung freely as he shuffled forward, his back bent slightly.
The crowd seemingly parted as they advanced toward each other, giving them a path that led to the middle of the atrium. I smiled that tightly contorted smile a person develops when he experiences great joy but tries to control an emotional urge to cry. Eye to eye, they met and their embrace was complete. He felt boney thin and a little frail, but his arms were strong and his grasp was true. They spoke silently, ear-to-ear, words no one else could hear. Ruthie, his wife of almost 50 years, could not attend. She had entered that other world where yesterday and tomorrow are not present. But an introduction to their daughter followed: A striking and graceful woman who beamed pride as her father received accolades from his many friends in the room.
Ellis Island sits less than a half-mile east of New Jersey’s Liberty State Park in the middle of New York Harbor close to the mouth of the Hudson River. Over many years its three acres grew to more than 27 as ship ballast and excavation material from New York City’s subway system were dumped around its edges. From the late 1800’s through the first two decades of the 1900’s millions of immigrants sailed from European ports to New York seeking the American Dream. First and Second class passengers were processed through US immigration on board ship, but the poorest were removed from the ship and processed through customs and immigration facilities on Ellis Island. Between 1892 and 1924, 12 million people were processed through those facilities. Rudolph Valentino, Irving Berlin, Golda Meir, and Bob Hope were among those whose first step on US soil was Ellis Island. Sandy’s parents landed there in 1901: Two of the more than 153,000 Poles to immigrate over this period. Today, about 40 percent of the population of the United States can trace their ancestry through Ellis Island.
The island was used in connection with alien detention and security during World War II, and then closed in 1954. For thirty years, it fell into disrepair and its future as an historical treasure was in doubt. In 1984, the non-profit Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Foundation, Inc., chaired by Lee A. Iacocca, raised $166 million in funds from private citizens, corporations, and other groups for the restoration and preservation of the island. This resulted in the largest historical restoration in the history of the United States. The project was finished in September 1990, two years ahead of schedule. The project manager in charge: Sandy S. Ginsberg.
Mother’s Day 2007, and about 800 participants lined up on the sidewalk outside Cheel to wait for the bagpipes and the Colors to pass before the Commencement procession could begin to move inside. It was a cool morning, with a gentle east wind, and a bright blue sky. The sun felt good on your face and the black robes absorbed enough warmth so you felt comfortable. He seemed a little distracted and pulled a number of crumbled yellow papers from his pocket on which he had written notes, paragraphs, phrases and reminders. The Trustees and Honorees took up a long applause that did not cease until the last undergraduate and faculty had passed through their gauntlet. When the stage party was seated and the president was vested, the program began in much the same way as has taken place for the preceding 113 years.
President Collins intoned, “Our next recipient is Sandy S. Ginsberg…” and I rose to escort him to the dais. It seemed difficult for him to stand. I noticed he needed to put both hands on the seat of his chair, and with a slight tremble pushed himself upward, so I took him at his elbow and guided him toward the dais. “For his exceptional career achievements and pioneering work in preserving some of America’s most notable landmarks…” but he was slow to move forward and reluctant to be led and I worried he was distracted or nervous… “…and for his engagement with his alma mater, we proudly honor…” Still, he arrived at the proper spot and received his Doctor of Science hood from the Marshall. Then, we backed away to listen to his address to the assembly of almost 4,000 students, parents and guests.
He began in that educated New York accent only few can achieve after a lifetime of living in The City. This was the most important honor he had ever received, and he was most grateful. It eclipsed his election to Phalanx, his induction to Chi Epsilon and Pi Delta Epsilon. It surpassed the Golden Knight award he received in 1994 and the Ellis Island Medal of Honor he had received in 1995. It was more important than his election as president of the Clarkson Alumni Association.
After graduation, he had spent some time in the military, then returned to New York to take up employment in the construction industry. He wondered then how he might stack up - as well he should have- because New York’s construction industry is one of the toughest in the world and he would need to be very smart and very clever to be successful with the Iron Workers, the IBEW, the Operating Engineers, the Fitters and the infamous Brooklyn local of the Boiler Makers. He remembered the Clarkson Motto “A Workman who needeth not to be ashamed” from Timothy 2:15, when he dealt with Mayors from Wagner, to Lindsay, to Beame, to Koch, to Dinkins, to Giuliani- and, ultimately the horror of 9/11.
He placed his five crumpled and folded legal-sized yellow pages deliberately on the dais but looked down at the scribbled margins and bold paragraphs only several times. I watched the students slowly dismiss other distractions and look up at a clever remark or the joke about his nightly consumption of milk and cookies. Slowly, carefully, he brought them into his world. They began to listen, and their attention increased. He told them, “Even one person can make a difference. It’s important for you to know that and to keep it in your heart when you leave this place.” He told them that dedication, honesty and hard work do have life benefits. He invited them to his home for milk and cookies whenever they found their travels took them to New York. And he meant itsincerely. There were smiles of appreciation from the students that a man would stand before them and speak so forthrightly and clearly- and offer friendship where the students had not realized a relationship had existed before.
As he folded the papers containing his notes, the students and their parents began a strong and sustained applause. He seemed not to hear and turned to find his seat. I stood again and opened my arms to receive him and his long embrace. “Perfect,” I said in his ear, “perfect.” He was trembling slightly, but turned with a smile on his face and sat down.
Graduate and undergraduate degrees were awarded for another two hours. President Collins shook hands with all 700 students, smiled at each one, and exchanged some pleasantry. By my count he gave or received an embrace from 20% of the graduates, many initiated by the student. Watching this, and recalling Sandy’s words, I am increasingly aware of the uniqueness of our institution. Few who cross that stage at Commencement come from wealthy families; many are the first or second generation to attend college, all are in debt. They come to Clarkson from all corners of the world. They come because they know they will be better for it. They come to Clarkson to learn in an environment of caring and compassion. They come to Clarkson where excellence in education is a truth, not a slogan. They do not come to Clarkson to make friends, though that happens in the normal course, and those friendships span ages, classes, and curricula and last forever.
I looked at my friend, who graduated Clarkson when I was in the 6th grade, as we walked from Cheel onto the green grass of the Quad and the bright sun beat anew on our faces. “You know what,” he said, “I’m un-retired. I start work again on Monday managing some construction projects on the lower east side.” Several students and their parents pressed to meet him, and I found myself standing on the outside of this growing inner circle and needing to find my car. Before I left, I made sure I had his phone number. Milk and cookies sounded pretty good to me.