Contributed by Joan Machlis-Crasemann
Of course, I have hundreds of memories but here are a few that are so “Bernd” I wanted to share them with all of you.
I didn’t learn anything about Physics from Bernd that I know of EXCEPT — one day I asked him how it could be that I loved him so much. He said it was due to an impedance match.
Bernd liked time and directions. When he moved to Seattle he had 7 clocks in his bedside table. He loved to orient himself with paper maps.
How many of you now know how to make an Oppenheimer Martini (which Bernd had every day until a year ago)? For those who don’t know the story, Oppenheimer insisted on making his own martini at a gathering at Bernd and Jean’s home on Parkside. The awestruck crowd watched as the master mixed gin and vermouth.
As a feminist I cringed at first with Bernd’s many nicknames. But, after a while, being told you are loved dozens of times a day and even being called “Bunny”, “Mousetrap”, “Fluffy” “Osita” “Mijita” and “Bear” and “Osa” all the time—well it really grows on a person. By the way, two of the stranger nicknames were “Mouseplate” and something that sounded like Bacon. I think it was a word in German but I can’t figure it out.
As Bernd’s dementia progressed he became even funnier. For some strange reason he had socks marked “L” and “R”. One day I got them wrong and this was distressing to him. As he looked down at his feet with alarm for having two left feet he also (because his feet were not reaching the floor) complained that his feet were too short now.
Bernd took his dementia in stride. He spoke of his “leaking brain” and sometimes explained his memory was not that good anymore.
It didn’t seem to distress him.
Can we all be so lucky?