MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT
(Circa 1957 — A Christmas Story) AŌer being biƩerly disappointed the two previous Christmases (no Schwin bike and no Lionel trainset), I had a feeling this might be the year. Finally, at 6:00 am, Father allowed the unwrapping to begin. In rabid anƟcipaƟon, I tore the Frosty - the - Snowman paper from my large and only package. Yes! A Gilbert Beginning Chemistry Set! Next, I ripped off the cellophane and sorted through its contents. Yes – potassium nitrate. Yes – sulfur. Yes – carbon. Yes – ROCKET FUEL! Now, I would have a way to power my aluminum rocket. And now, I had a fighƟng chance to develop an ICBM before the Russkies! AŌer the early fesƟviƟes had died down, and I’d finished my morning chores (milk the cow, slop the hogs and feed the chickens), I crept downstairs to set up my chemistry lab. First, I appropriated the spare bedroom (actually, a junk room) and posiƟoned a discarded kitchen table under the window. To give more light, I drew open the drapes, then set up my chemistry set. At last, I was ready to make rocket fuel. By mixing potassium nitrate, sulfur and carbon, I created a small test pile. Though it fizzed and fumed, it was not what I needed. From the Encyclopedia Britannica , I learned using zinc as a catalyst might help. Yes – I had zinc! AŌer remixing, I created a large mound, then using a kitchen knife, I parƟƟoned off a smaller test pile. Unknowingly, however, I leŌ a trailing furrow of gunpowder leading straight to the big pile. Striking a match, I lit the test pile. Flashing, leaping, and smoking, it ignited with the fury of a volcano. This was more like it! But then, it sparked and hissed and burned down the furrow toward the larger pile. WHOOSH! Suddenly, I had a smoky, roily bonfire! Tongues of flames leaped to the drapes! Now the whole house was in jeopardy. Singeing my hands, I ripped the drapes from the wall brackets, hurling them down on the Formica table. Panicky, I looked around and grabbed a spare twin - maƩress, slamming it down on the fire. With no oxygen, thankfully, the fire died. Now, however, fumes and black smoke were boiling toward the stairwell! Trying to outrun it, I sprinted to the top of the stairs. Just as I was about to slam the door shut, I noƟced my father’s foot! Needless to say, my chemistry set was impounded and my career as a rocketeer floundered and died — and kids, that’s how I became a doctor. As with most of my stories, this one has some truth, some half - truths, and some ficƟon. Let’s not worry about the percentages. Anyway, I want to wish you all happy holidays and hope y’all get your equivalent to a Gilbert Beginning
Chemistry Set (whatever that may be). Stay tuned and see you next semester, ~ Dr. Warren Stucki, ICL President
2 LIFELONG LEARNING
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