David H. Freeman--a critical thinker and sailor

David H. Freeman (3rd from left) with his daughter Kate (2nd from left), Virignia 1995

           

 I shared my office with Dave Freeman back in 1980. He was spending his sabbatical with my colleague Tom Hoering at Carnegie’s Geophysical Laboratory in Washington DC. The two of them were developing new methods for purifying a particular type of fat molecule that was in low abundance in marine sediments and ancient rocks. Dave’s expertise was in chromatography—both the liquid type and the gas kind. The majority of his work up to this point was in pure chemical systems. He was starting to branch out into the natural world, which intrigued him more than his earlier methodological studies. His first paper on compounds from sediments was published in 1981. From that point on he delved in the environmental and organic geochemistry realm in which his daughter Kate now is a leader.

            Kate’s news of Dave’s sudden passing brought back some good memories, which remind me of what an endearing fellow he was to me and many others.

            During his sabbatical, he was at a critical juncture in his career and wanted to assess where he’d been and what he’d accomplished. Reading over a list of his publications, he said to me in our shared office, “Do you know what your best five publications are?”

            “Sure,” I said quickly. At that point in time, I only had 5 publications. It wasn’t difficult at all.

            Looking back, Dave was making the conscious decision to take his career in a different more rewarding path. He and Tom Hoering had an easy collaboration style. The two of them maintained a close friendship until Tom’s death in 1995. Dave continued to visit the Geophysical Lab from time to time, and I also developed a friendship with him as I reached scientific adulthood.

            It wasn’t his science necessarily that endeared him to me. It was the infectious, often mischievous little smile that he wore when he was thinking about something that interested him. He was a real thinker—not only about science, which he loved--but about life, people, music, religion, and art. He and his wife Linda also loved to entertain. Just prior to when Chris and I got married in 1986, the Freemans invited us for a sail on their boat moored in the Magothy River on Chesapeake Bay.  We were excited to go! The invitation also included dinner at a local crab shack where we’d have all the blue crabs we could eat.

            We boarded the boat in mid-afternoon. Linda had stocked the galley with appetizers—nuts, olives, cheeses—and a good supply of gin and tonic. We motored out into the open bay, unfurled the sails and glided a few miles across a nearly calm bay. Around 5 pm, Dave weighed anchor and we had our cocktail party overlooking the vast shoreline of coastal Maryland. By the time we were ready to come back to the dock, the wind had completely died. We were “in irons” with the sails luffing, going nowhere. As dusk deepened, Dave said, “Hey, no problem. We’ll motor in.” We laughed, sounded good.

            Unfortunately, the motor couldn’t be turned on after trying for nearly an hour. The stars appeared in the twilight. Eventually, we hailed a passing motorboat, who gave us a tow back to the dock. Dave was nonplussed and Linda seems reconciled that things like this weren’t terribly unusual. We made it to the crab shack eventually. I recall this day most fondly and vividly 33 years later.

            When Tom Hoering was nearing his end, Dave was a stalwart visitor to him. He spearheaded the publication of booklet honoring Tom and wrote this about him:   “ The scientific life for Tom is a complex of doors that open to ideas inside—any one of which might shift a perspective, reveal something new, or lead to a better question.” The quote captures Dave’s flair for words and deep thought.

            In 1995, when we held Tom’s festschrift at a resort in Virginia, Dave sailed his boat down from Maryland and took out a bunch of younger organic geochemists for an afternoon sail on the day of our banquet. By 5 pm, we were starting with a pre-dinner talk. No one had seen the crew or Dave yet. A couple of hours later as dusk fell, I experienced déjà vu. We watched from shoreline as a motorboat towed Dave’s sailboat back to the dock with his guests on board looking relieved.  We had a rousing cheer for them when they came to the banquet.

            It might be said that Dave’s main contribution to science was raising his daughter Kate and mentoring her to become an earth scientist and a chemist. I like to think that because we knew Dave that Kate came to the Geophysical Lab as a college student to wash my lab glassware and help Tom out with chromatography. It might have been that connection that turned her towards grad school with John Hayes, one of the premier stable isotope scientists of my day. Dave was immensely proud of his daughter.

Dave, Marilyn, and Linda, Carnegie 2018

            In April of last year (2018), Chris and I spotted Dave and Linda at a Carnegie event on “Origins” at the P Street location. We called to them and enjoyed catching up over a buffet dinner. They both regaled us with their tales of teaching and learning, ever the active intellectuals in their late eighties. I am so glad I got to touch base with him then. The world will miss Dave. I picture him sailing his boat towards a shore in heaven—sails full of crisp breezes. May he rest in peace.