A unique friendship

Abstract

The beginning of the friendship between myself and H.F. Schaefer (hereafter ‘Fritz’) took place in Berkeley. The development of this friendship is best described by the question: How did a red diaper baby become good friends with one who had a totally different view of ‘ultimate questions’? The essential role my wife, Christine Chapin Harris, plays in the friendship when Fritz moves to Georgia is next described. The story continues with Fritz's efforts over many years, finally successful, to encourage us to visit Georgia. This part of the history emphasizes Fritz's kindness towards Christine. I end this section with our adventures with Fritz in Georgia. The final section is about our old age common humanity.

Keywords:

• ab initio
• electronic structure
• quantum chemistry
• computational chemistry

The essence of the friendship between myself and H.F. Schaefer (hereafter ‘Fritz’) is summarized in a quote from his book Science and Christianity: Conflict or Coherence 1:

“At the University of California at Berkeley, where I was a professor for 18 years, we had 50 chemistry professors. But for many years there was only one who was willing to publicly identify himself as an atheist, my good friend Robert Harris with whom I still have occasional discussions about spiritual things … ”.1

Of course, the quote does not explain the beginning of my relationship with Fritz and how that relationship grew into a friendship.

Fritz arrived at Berkeley in 1969. He was one of two theoretical chemists to join the faculty then. From the beginning I felt that Fritz's beliefs, both political and religious, were such that friendship, even collegiality, were outside my boundaries for a relationship. That is, I was intolerant.

In the early 1980s an event occurred which changed everything. One day I had lunch at a local restaurant with a number of people in the department. I sat next to Fritz and we began a conversation about religion. I told him that I too was brought up in a very religious family. Our god was Josef Stalin! I do not remember any response from Fritz.

Perhaps he was stunned, and indeed that is what I wanted to happen. I was not exaggerating. I was a double ‘red diaper baby’. Both sides of my family were communists.

The next day I went to my office and found on my desk a tape of Bob Dylan's conversion (very brief, by the way) to Christianity album A Slow Train Coming 2. Perhaps Fritz thought I was ready for a π flip.

I never listened to the album. However, on that day I realized that Fritz had stepped within the boundary. Our friendship began to grow. We had no further conversations on matters of religion. Clearly, we would not change each other's basic position. Our only common theological interest was in Bumpass Hell in Lassen Park, an inferno from which we both returned.

Around the mid-1980s, Fritz began making noises about leaving Berkeley. I asked him the question: are you really intent on leaving or are you just playing the usual academic game. If you aren’t truthful the ‘Big one in the sky’ is going to come down on you. He said he really was considering leaving. Of course I believed him. As we will see, he couldn’t make a full break from Berkeley.

In 1986, shortly before Fritz left for Georgia, he gave a 50th birthday party for me. It was such an act of generosity that it cemented my affection for him. It was a party with the innocent pleasures of balloons, birthday cake, lemonade and hot dogs. What better way to say goodbye to the Bay Area.

Right before Fritz left, my wife, Christine, began to play a crucial role in Fritz and my friendship.

In 1951–1952, her father was artist in residence at the University of Georgia 3. The family lived in the then small town of Watkinsville, Georgia, about 10 miles outside of Athens. Christine spent the fall 1951 term attending high school in Watkinsville. The most famous faculty member of the university, Lamar Dodd, after whom the school of art is named, had invited Christine's father to the University 4.

When Fritz moved to Georgia he settled in Watkinsville. Of course, being Fritz, he was curious about Christine's life in Georgia. He was also curious about how Christine's father was viewed by Lamar Dodd. A few years after Fritz moved, a cassette arrived in the mail unannounced. We opened it to find a taped interview that Fritz had done with Lamar Dodd, then a very old man, about Christine's father. We were surprised and deeply touched by this wonderful gesture.

This was the beginning of Fritz's attempt to induce us, mainly Christine, to visit him in Georgia.

Although Fritz returned to Berkeley about once a year or so, and he and I spent time together, it was not sufficient for him. He wanted Christine to relive her time in Watkinsville. He wanted to know where she lived, where she went to high school, and where she ate ice cream.

It was not until the spring of 2005 that we finally went to Georgia. I was to give the Mulliken lecture in theoretical chemistry at Fritz's institute. Clearly this was a ruse.

Fritz was finally successful in bringing Christine to a place that had been alien to her in 1951: the South before the civil rights movement. When Fritz first arrived in Watkinsville he and Karen went to a Thanksgiving parade and were horrified to see the KKK marching in the parade. Such overt reminders of racism were absent when we went to visit.

After my seminar and before we set out to explore Christine's old haunts in Watkinsville, Christine and I went with Fritz to the Georgia Museum of Art. Although we were now accustomed to Fritz's kindness we were not prepared for our visit to the museum. Fritz arranged for a curator to meet us. She had put out all of Christine's father's work in the museum collection.

We left the museum and Fritz proceeded to drive us around Athens and then on to Watkinsville. In Athens he found, with delight, the hotel where Christine and her family had Sunday lunches. In Watkinsville, after going down many side streets and back alleys, Christine did not recognize where she lived, and where she had ice cream. However, she did recognize the high school she attended, or at least the first floor of the school. The second floor had burnt down. Though incomplete in his quest to discover aspects of Christine's few months in Watkinsville, Fritz was satisfied. Of course, Christine was pleased with the kindness and thoughtfulness that Fritz had shown her.

I have presented a number of historical vignettes exhibiting Fritz's tolerance of, curiosity about, and sympathy towards the beliefs of others. Our friendship is an obvious instance of this. His love of Shakespeare is another manifestation. One of the reasons he regularly returns to Berkeley is to attend performances of the California Shakespeare Company. A few years ago the company performed The Merchant of Venice 5. Fritz attended it, as did Christine and I. Fritz's comment was, “the Christians did not come off too well either”. This was not a criticism of the play. It was essential Fritz.

Fritz and I both had bypass surgery. We commiserated with one another. I pointed out that the ‘big one’ doesn’t spare either of us.

On this sombre note I want to close by quoting an email that Fritz wrote to me after I told him about a mild stroke I had: “ … Thank you for letting me know about this. I know you are skeptical, but I am praying for you. I have zero friends like you to spare … ”. It is a unique friendship.

Acknowledgement

My wife, Christine, played a major role in both the writing of this talk and as a subject of the talk. In fact, without her I would still be a goof off and not be at Berkeley. Thus, I would not have met Fritz.

Notes

Note

1. There were other open ‘atheists’ on the faculty in the Berkeley chemistry department when Fritz arrived, e.g. John Hearst and Martin McClain.