Soon after he joined Nassau-Suffolk Lumber, Jack first came to the Biological Laboratories along Bungtown Road where he obtained a small order for nails and some lumber. Then, the Biolabs had a reputation for paying their bills very late, with many in the Huntington community believing its eventual bankruptcy would prevent many local merchants from ever being fully paid. In 1959, Jack took the plunge to move out on his own as a self-employed builder of residential houses-sometimes for designated clients but often "on spec," depending on later finding buyers who would let him take home genuine profits from his labors. With his skills as an honest contractor soon becoming known, Jack never was without at least one new home to build.

Jack's first contact with the Laboratory as a builder came through the New York architect Harold Edelman. In the mid-1960s, Harold had several commissions in the Huntington region on which Jack worked. Then Harold was also working for John Cairns, who, as the Laboratory's Director, was in constant need of advice about how to keep the Laboratory's old buildings going for science or human habitation. Initially, none of the renovation projects that Harold asked Jack to bid on were given to him. In particular, he missed being able to rebuild Osterhaut Cottage in 1969 to serve as a residence for Liz and me. So, Jack was more than reluctant when Harold asked him to bid later that year on the addition to James Laboratory that was to provide offices and a seminar room for scientists working on tumor viruses. Jack made the lowest bid and was asked to do the job. Soon after, our then superintendent of Buildings and Grounds, Don Eckels, decided to return to California to take charge of the City of Davis park systems. We asked Jack whether he might like to build the James Annex, not as an independent contractor but as our Director of Buildings and Grounds. Initially, Jack only perceived trouble in becoming our employee. As self-employed, he could go off on Fridays for weekends of skiing or sailing. In response, we told him that that is how good scientists work and play and he would be a perfect companion to our then two chief scientists, John Cairns and Ray Gesteland. In the end, Jack gave up the independence that all too often gave him clients who never used to pay for late-made changes in construction plans.

From then on, until his official retirement some four years ago, Jack was in effect the contractor for all but the biggest of the Laboratory's construction contracts, using often the same subcontractors whom he had trusted and enjoyed working with as a private contractor. Though official Laboratory policies often forced him to go out for bids, Jack never liked the process, usually knowing what a job should cost and what would be reasonable profits for his subcontractors to take home. At the same time, Jack proved of inestimable value to our young architects, making them aware when they had unnecessarily overdesigned proposed buildings by showing how simpler, less costly architectural solutions would do equally well.

In his early years, when we had far fewer employees, Jack never questioned the need to drive the snowplow or to man a lawn mower when special occasions demanded the Laboratory look its best. Never the person to get his way by loud shots or nasty retorts, Jack's way was to hire individuals who justly took pride in their specific talents and who could be counted on to work through the night-say, in the midst of an ice storm.

For the next two decades, Jack would regularly appear in my office to point out alternative ways of moving ahead. Many of these occasions represented differences in opinion between him and the architects, and he wanted my concurrence before seemingly forcing his opinion on the architect. One such case occurred this past year during the construction of our new Samuel Freeman Building. The decision to give up having a basement then suddenly resulted in a proposed flat furnace addition that looked to us like a square carbuncle. With Jack and me holding firm, our architect, Jim Childress, came up with a new solution that pleases all.

Jack's seemingly instinctive knack for knowing how to behave stayed with him all through his four-year-long fight against prostate cancer. Never one to seek help when he remained capable of taking care of himself, Jack, until the last month of his illness, drove by himself into New York City to receive the radiation or chemotherapy treatments that largely kept him out of pain. But they weakened his body, and finally he could not hide the heavy tiredness that increasingly took over his body at times of intense therapy. Always the best way then to bring back Jack's spirit was to talk about buildings in the course of construction or designs that soon must be made. Though Jack was finally to need a cane to move about, his face until the end was never that of an old or sick person. His brain remained functioning at high capacity, and his advice was as sensible and to the point as ever. Luckily, his end came swiftly and painlessly in Florida, where he went to enjoy the sun and its warmth after still one more round of treatments. For a week, he could enjoy looking out upon the green surrounding him. A bacterial infection then swiftly filled his lungs and his eyes and face sparkled no more.

The respect and affection that he felt for our Laboratory and its purposes will remain an indelible feature of our history. In turn, we shall miss him more than words can ever convey.