February 6, 1948 POSTSCRIPT Pag

Faculty Row The First Parachute Jump

D octor V. Dim itroff

Shortly after the birth of the 20th century, immigrant bearing ships were a common sight to the Statue of Liberty. Little thought or assistance was given to them. On board one of these west-bound vessels was a young Bulgarian, twenty years old, practically no knowledge of English, his financial status indigent, and two distant relatives.

Dr. Vladimir Dimitroff gazed at the ceiling and reminiscently sighed, “That was a long time ago.” That statement, prima facie, chrono­

logically meant that he had been in the United States about thirty- one years, but read on, Mac Stu­dents and see how long it really was.

From the port of debarkation, Dr. Dimitroff ventured to New England where he secured a labor­ious job, toiling from 6:00 A.M. until 6:00 P.M.; after which he somnambulated to evening classes four times a week at 7:15 in order to learn English. When he mas­tered the national language suffi­ciently he entered boarding school in the fifth grade, full of ambition but burdened with self-conscious­ness at being an adult in these juvenescent environs. School hours were from 9:00 A.M. until noon. At one he busied himself with var­ious duties until six in the evening. On Monday he was fortunate to be

able to work ten hours. The five hours work netted him a clean seventy- live cents a day, whereas some lowly occupation would have an eight cent an hour rating, such as dish washing. Five years later he strolled off the campus with a high school diploma, bound for Providence, R. I., and Brown University.

This “work-study program” continued at Brown where he did hospi­tal duty, lab. assistant, duty and had a part-time position in town doing piece work in his spare moments. Four years later, in 1930, he was awarded a B.S. but lost his bachelorhood when he was married a few months later. The following year he received his M.S. at Brown.

The next two years were spent at Clark University, Worcester, Mass., activating their biology department which at that time was in a dormant stage. The Doctor feels sure he could find his way around the old labs that he stimulated, because they haven’t changed much since that time. While at Clark, he had the good fortune to work with the pioneer psychologist, Dr. G. Stanley Hall.

1923 found him at Baltimore, Md., attending Johns Hopkins Insti­tute. At the Institute he had the guidance from such eminent men as Dr. William Welsh, who introduced bacteriology to the United States, Dr. MacCallum, nutritionist, and Dr. W. H. Howell, an authority in physiology. He received his Doctorate of Sciences in bacteriology at the School of Public Health and Hygiene in 1925.

Harvard Medical School then found the research work of Dr. Dimitroff as commendable as his instruction in pathology. The research consisted of detailed work in spirochaetes found in drinking water. From 1926 to 1940, he was a pathologist in several hospitals, visiting pathologist in others and acting pathologist in still others. The professor was in Wor­cester State Hospital when he accepted his present position at Paul Smith’s in 1946.

Editor’s Note: Dr. Dimitroff was reluctant, about offering the hard­ships encountered during his struggle for an education for publication, but was urged by us to pass the information on to some unfortunate students. The satisfaction gained after such obstacles can best be summed by a statement of Cicero — “The greater the difficulty, the greater the glory.”

In the spring of 1916 a local citizen sat on a “lizard log” in front of the community store in Madison, North Carolina. “Yes sir, Mr. Pickett, T believe that’s just the thing for your young upstart,” commented the family friend. The impetus of another noted career had been born again. Howell G. Pickett immediately left his junior year of high school and headed for military training at the Bingham Military School. This school, though now extinct, was the oldest preparatory school of its kind in the south. The year 1918 brought an enlistment in the field artillery with a quick assignment to the Medical Corps. During World War I the Chemical Warfare department came under the title of Medi­cal Corps. Under the capacity of laboratory technician he worked on tri nitro toluene and its production. Matriculating from the army to the University of North Carolina, he experienced the same difficulties as a modern G. I. student and graduated with a B. S. in Chemistry in 1922. Continuing his research on T.N.T., returning to the University on a fellow­ship. and teaching Freshman Chemistry and Lab brought the Master’s degree in Physical Chemistry with a minor in Physics in 1923. The same year also brought a position with the United States Gypsum Company in Oakfield, New York. One sniff of yankee land was enough. September found him returning to Blacksburg. Virginia, and Virginia Polytechnic Institute as an instructor in Analytical Chemistry and Assistant to the head of the Department. In 1926, a letter from Dr. J. M. Bell of the University of North Carolina brought a proposal as Analytical Chemistry Professor and sufficient time to work for his Doctorate. Acceptance of this opportunity, however, brought a draft into the Chemical Engineer- Department. in 1927 with a substantial increase in salary.

By David Doren

“Stand up and hook up! Stand in the door! Ready — GO!” These are the electrifying commands which send a group of paratroopers hurtling out into space. One who has heard and responded to these words will never forget them. He will never forget the tense, grim atmosphere in the plane before the jump, or the thrill of elation one feels when the parachute opens and his fall is checked.

There is more to becoming a paratrooper than simply making five qualifying jumps. There are long weeks of rugged training — the toughest of its kind in the world. In those weeks the budding jumpers learn how to execute para­chute landing-falls; they master the complicated art of packing para­chutes in such a way that they open properly when the crucial moment comes; they spend long hours practicing, step by step, the correct method of leaving a plane in flight; they engage in calisthen­ics, log-throwing, and running until they think they’ll drop — and many of them do fall flat on their faces — and they train on high towers and complicated apparatus until they are dizzy. When a man has successfully completed this pre­liminary training, he knows that he is ready for the supreme test, the event he has been lying awake nights thinking about — the first jump.

Nervous tension grips the men as they march to the air-strip on the morning of the first jump. Hur­riedly they file through the han­gars and pick up their parachutes. Out on the strip in front of the hangars, they make fumbling, last- minute adjustments with their har­nesses or their helmets — anything to keep their hands busy. The men seem detached and far away; each one is occupied with his own thoughts.

The early morning air is chilly and damp. Far off on the eastern horizon the last red streaks of the sunrise are seen; the gray dawn brightens into daylight. And now the morning silence is abruptly shat­tered by the throaty coughing of huge aircraft engines far down the runway. The coughing quickly changes into a full, steady roar as the engines warm up. Big twin

motored transport planes taxi up the strip and come to a halt in front of the hangars.

The group of waiting men braces itself against the terrific wind of the “prop blast.” Instructors make last-minute checks of the men’s gear and then, bent into awkward positions by their parachute har­nesses, the jumpers waddle up to the waiting planes and clamber aboard. Inside the transports, the men quickly take seats and fasten their safety belts.

One by one the planes taxi to the end of the long runway and wait there for the take-off signal. At last it is time to fly; the first plane starts down the strip, quickly gaining speed. The sound of the engines increases to a deafening roar; finally the plane leaves the ground and begins to climb.

After reaching a certain altitude, the plane levels off and proceeds on its course towards the jump field. For many of the men it is the first airplane flight. Some of them peer out the windows to get a look at the ground far below; others sit glued to their seats with their eyes straight to the front — expressionless. There are two rows of seats facing each other, one on either side of the plane, so the men look across the aisle at one an­other. Some smile feebly; most puff nervously on cigarettes; all are taut and nervous. Suddenly a loud buzzer sounds; everyone is startled by it except the jumpmaster, who knows it is the ten-minute warning bell.

Finally the plane approaches the jump field. The jump-master gives the commands, and the first “stick” of twelve men leaps to its feet. The men hook their static line snap- fasteners to the anchor-line cable which runs along the roof of the cabin. They push close against each other in a line down the aisle of the plane, ready for the final com­mand. At last it comes — a sharp “G O!” They shuffle quickly to the door and make their exits; it takes eight seconds for the twelve men to jump.

As each man steps out, the prop blast catches him and turns him around toward the tail of the plane. He doesn’t fall straight down: he

(continued on page 4, col. 3)

As the roaring twenties were terminating, he received his Ph.D. and published a paper entitled “A Study of Sulphur Factor in the Methanol Synthesis.” The same year1928, “Doc” moved to head of the Physics Department at Madison Col­lege, Harrisonburg, Virginia. He re­mained there for fifteen years. The fall of 1943 found him at the Uni­versity of Georgia as a Civilian professor in the A. S. T. P., 3416 Basic Engineers.

The fourth of March in forty- four beckoned in with a transfer to a manganese project at the New' Mexico School of Mines at Soccoro, New Mexico. January of 1945 brought an order to proceed to Oak Ridge, Tennessee and the Atomic Energy project. He served as super­visor of technical personnel in the Isctopic Laboratories for Carbide and Carbon Chemical Corporation.A promotion came later with the same company as Consultant and Assistant Superintendent of Labora­tory. July of 1946’s mail carried a an acceptance from “ Doc” Pickett. Sciences at Paul Smith’s College.

D octor H. G. Pickett

letter from President Leasure and He is now Director of Physical