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5 The Columbia Years New York, New York What do they say in the song? “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere / It’s up to you, New York, New York.” Was this song playing in the back of my head when Columbia’s president, Bill McGill, came to UCLA to offer me the job of dean of Columbia’s School of Engineering and Applied Science? I was not seeking any new job, although I knew that I had been nominated by a UCLA faculty colleague with Columbia ties. I saw myself then as a UCLA professor on temporary, part-time assignment in the UCLA Dean’s Office, a job accepted out of duty, not ambition. I never would have volunteered for a job in New York, which promised to disrupt the lives of my entire California family. My sons and daughters were California kids, accustomed to a free-spirited culture that for the most part welcomed their diversity. What dangers might they face on the East Coast? Would they be okay? To my surprise, Pat was eager to accept the challenge. Her adventurous spirit was contagious and soon all our kids were ready to say goodbye to their friends and sail into foreign waters. It was a bold move for us to exchange the good life in California for the uncertainties of metropolitan New York, but we realized that our family of eight people was a self-sufficient unit, not reliant upon the approval of others. We knew that we would be okay as long as we had each other. In my heart of hearts I wanted to go to New York for the same reason that I wanted to enter postseason wrestling tournaments after every successful wrestling season. I needed to test myself, to see if I could swim in the turbulent waters that I knew I would find at Columbia. As soon as I was sure that Pat and the kids were ready for a great adventure, my decision was easy. And so it has been for my entire professional life. I have never applied for a new job since my first appointment as a UCLA assistant professor. The Columbia Years 77 When invited to step up to a new challenge, I have often declined but three times have been unable to resist, first at Columbia, then Lehigh, and finally Arizona. On each of these occasions, Pat has encouraged me to take the leap of faith, and we have done so together, moving the entire family. The move from California to New York, however, was the biggest step for all of us, putting in motion all the subsequent changes that came from future opportunities. Life would never be the same for any of us. Pat and I made every effort to ease the transition for our children, who were fourteen (Teresa), thirteen (Lora), eleven (Paul and Linda), eight (Krista), and seven (John) in the summer of 1976, when we made our move. Pat and I had rendezvoused in New York immediately after she finished her teaching obligations, meeting me on a return trip from Europe, and in four days we had scoured housing opportunities in three states and bought a house in Park Ridge, New Jersey, so we would have a home to move the family into when we arrived by car from California and I would have a tolerable commute into upper Manhattan. I had more than a month between the end of my UCLA responsibilities and the beginning of my job at Columbia, so we had quality time with the family to bridge the divide between California and New York. We used that time well. I have always been a responsibility-driven person, unable to banish feelings of unmet responsibilities from the back of my mind even when ostensibly at play. In the summer of 1976, however, I was between jobs and had no obligations but my family. I was quite conscious of the unfamiliar feeling of liberation from duty (only rediscovered thirty years later when I retired). Pat and I had enjoyed driving across this great country of ours for our year at MIT in 1957–1958. We wanted our kids to have that experience , so we hooked our travel trailer to the family van and meandered with six kids, five cats, and two dogs from campground to campground all across America. We visited Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks in the Southwest, headed north to gaze at Mount Rushmore...

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