Further memories of 1940s
Early in WWII my mother, E.R.Sansome the mycologist, with me in tow, arrived at Cold Spring Harbor. Her laboratory was upstairs in the library building, the books being housed in a room to the left side of the entrance door. Mycology made contribution to the early development of penicillin. I think my mother was relieved thereafter to return to studies on Neurospora, which mycologists seem to have instead of the fruit fly!
We lived in a room in the dormitory building, Barbara McLintock.being on the floor below. Further upstairs other rooms were occupied on a more temporary basis by the summer visitors. Meals were downstairs, under the verandah. .
While the scientists (Delbruck, Luria,and others) were busy upstairs in the library building,we kids enjoyed the out doors.
Most of the time, in summer, this was spent barefoot- a special challenge being the sharp cinder surface down by the power house.- but feet quickly toughened up.
I remember three of the “cold springs“, not counting those feeding the lakes. The brook coursing across the bottom of the dormitory lawn could be easily dammed at source- causing it to run dry. Salamanders were under the stones.
The Blackford Hall was always cool in the heat of summer, thanks to its construction entirely of concrete. As a treat I was allowed to sleep over sometimes. The BB gun which was allowed as a birthday present had its target set up across the road. The woods opposite the Blackford were the site of much mysterious activity.
Another worthwhile place was the field behind the library building. This was a good place for finding stone arrowheads, especially just after the ground had been cultivated. Barbara McLintock had a patch of her maize there. One year there was also a patch of hemp, grown from birdseed. I was told that toxicity was being tested on hapless killifish- which abounded in the brackish water near the powerhouse. I believed this at the time.
Summer visitors included Sophie Dobzhansky, who was currently learning Russian. She saw no reason why others should not benefit from the experience. As she said, there were only a few extra letters to the alphabet , and their odd appearance could soon become familiar. It didn’t work for me.
Music was covered by Reba Mirsky. First you started with the recorder and then you graduated to the flute (girls mostly) or the clarinet. Neither appealed to me- it was the trumpet which was my choice. I was still battling with “three blind mice” when Jonathan left, and with him the trumpet.
As to flute- players, I think Rada Demerec was one successful pupil. I was in some awe of Rada, for she was followed by hand-reared ducks, had a dog called Scoppy, and above all she was a taxidermist, stuffing anything that came her way. Her specialty seemed to be the Belted Kingfisher, probably those that strayed too near the fish-hatchery.
I do remember the man with the Pileated Woodpecker on his shoulder. He was cataloguing the moult, feather by feather. “not including the downy feathers, of course” he said.
The rest of the year meant school - the West Side School- with the inspirational teacher Miss Risley (later, Eva Risley Clarke)
Memorable events, in no particular order (I don’t keep a diary) include:-
The annual firemen’s tea party treat for the kids - held in the firestation on the other side of the harbor.- my double-ended pencil/pen was a long treasured thing.
The annual arrival of the smelt.
The horseshoe crabs.
Winter spawning of “Tom Cod” along the harbor seawall.
The hurricane (’44) which struck the dormitory with such force that the double doors to the verandah
burst open, the screws to the lock having sheared off. The gust travelled across the house and blew out the windows on the other side. A barricade of furniture had to be set up.
The pair of Phoebes which nested every year in the “haunted house”.
The house fire which attracted an impressive surrounding of security guards.
As the war was growing to a close and the u-boat menace had largely gone, mother and I returned to England as passengers on a troopship.
In 1950 we revisited CSHL with my father, F.W.Sansome the botanist/ plant physiologist.
This was a marvellous summer, as I was now a teenager . There were beach parties and Hank Williams on the radio - and girls…….
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