A Life Fully Lived

Jim graduated from Alexander Ramsey High School in Roseville, MN; received his undergraduate degree in Mathematics from the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities; his Master's degree in Physics from the University of Minnesota-Duluth, and his Ph.D. in Theoretical Physics from the University of Wyoming in Laramie.

After stints teaching and doing research at the Universities of Wyoming and North Dakota State, the majority of Jim's career was spent as a Theoretical Physicist at the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) in Boulder, CO, where he loved his work and was able to do groundbreaking work on a number of fronts. He was in the process of writing a book about his work.

Jim and his wife, Karen, were married in June, 1979. They were blessed with two wonderful children, a son, Duff, born in 1986, and a daughter, Aquene, born in 1991.

Besides his work and family, Jim had a lifelong love affair with the outdoors, as manifested in his activities of canoeing (including competitive whitewater canoeing), camping, fishing, biking, snowshoeing, and climbing.

Jim died in a tragic and improbable accident on December 31, 2011, when a high gust of wind blew a branch just 3-feet long and 3 inches in diameter through the windshield of his car, as he and his wife, Karen, were returning home to Longmont from Boulder. The branch slammed into his chest and he maintained consciousness long enough to steer the car to the shoulder and stop, saving his wife and other motorists from a possible collision.

To say that Jim is sorely missed by his family, colleagues, and many friends is an understatement.

In the last several years, Jim had taken to signing off his emails to his siblings with "Jimmy B." Long live the memory of Jimmy B!

Friday, February 3, 2012

Memories from Jim's friend, Poppy Benson

Riding the Rails

I always wanted to ride the rails, so I was thrilled when I met Jim through Rovers in about 1970 and learned he was planning to lead a freight-hopping trip to the Wind River Mountains in Wyoming. First we would make a slight detour to Seattle to gear up at REI. In those days, there was only one REI and traveling a thousand miles to the Mecca of gear seemed to Jim a really reasonable thing to do. I was along for the adventure so I didn't question this much.

On this trip was Jim, his brother, whose name I can't remember, Pat Padden, Lowell Calender and some young guy I can't remember. Jim was concerned that the railroad bulls wouldn't let us women on the train, so Lowell and I attempted to disguise ourselves by gluing on fake mustaches made of our own hair, wearing army clothes, and smoking cigars. Perhaps I got away with it but Lowell was a very slight woman and I don't think fooled anyone.

Jim was our guru - the only one who had done this before. Yes, he introduced us to cream of chicken soup sandwiches and "furnishing" a car with junk furniture from the railroad yard, just like Terry remembered in his story. One of my best memories was also of Jim sitting in the easy chair, in the door of the freight car, smoking his pipe and reading Kafka. It was so hysterical. The greatest feeling of freedom and adventure and wide open possibilities was to wake up on that train the first morning out, the sun just coming up and think - "I'm headed west on a freight train."

By the time we got to Seattle we were all filthy. Jim knew all the tricks of cleaning up in gas station bathrooms, hitchhiking in a city and finding a place to crash on the UW campus at some religious house. I can't remember even getting anything at REI after all that.

Coming back got eve crazier. Jim was determined we could take the freight south to the Wind Rivers although that meant leaving the main lines. We found a train, but woke up the next morning to dead silence - something you never experience around trains. Looking out the door of our car, we could see nothing but prairie and the railroad siding our car had been dumped off at. We had to send out a scouting party to find a road, then hitchhike a day to get to the Wind Rivers. There was no traffic into the Green River Lakes trailhead and we spent most of the day by the side of the road just waiting for a vehicle. After all those train adventures, we only had 3 days left to backpack.

Coming back, we had even more adventures. Our train was already moving and Jim picked a flat car as the easiest to get into under the circumstances. I was not sure about this at all, having been raised on stories from my Dad of friends getting their legs cut off under moving trains. I am sure Jim probably went first and his brother and helped the rest of us up. As I remember there was a little ladder and catching that wasn't too bad but then there was nothing to grab onto to get on top of the flat car…but there was Jim with a hand.

Then it got windier and windier and we were afraid of our gear blowing off and then afraid that we would blow off. Jim strung a climbing rope that either he or Padden had for who knows what reason, across the car and we all clung to that as we were buffeted by a combination of high speed and Wyoming prairie winds. It was pretty dicey.

But we got home and it was one of the grand adventures of my life, all facilitated by Jim. He was so resourceful and calm about solving every little problem. I don't think I was ever lucky enough to go on another trip with him. I moved away to Alaska and didn't see him again until the Rover reunion in about 2003? 4? I am so sorry to think that he is gone, just a great guy.
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