Doctor Wood. Modern Wizard of the Laboratory: The Story of an American Small Boy Who Became the Most Daring and Original Experimental Physicist of Our Day-but Never Grew Up

Lilienthal cautioned me especially against letting the apparatus dive forward and downward, when the wind strikes the upper surface of the wings — the commonest disaster the novice meets with. The tendency is checked by throwing the legs forward, as in landing, which brings the machine up into the wind and checks its forward motion. As you stand in the frame your elbows are at your sides, the forearms are horizontal, and your hands grasp one of the horizontal cross braces. The weight of the machine rests in the angle of the elbow joints. In the air, when you are supported by the wings, your weight is carried on the vertical upper arms and by pads which come under the shoulders, the legs and lower part of the body swinging free below.

I stood still facing the wind for a few moments, to accustom myself to the feeling of the machine, and then Lilienthal gave the word to advance. I ran slowly against the wind, the weight of the machine lightening with each step, and presently felt the lifting force. The next instant my feet were off the ground; I was sliding down the aerial incline a few feet above the ground. The apparatus tipped from side to side a good deal, but I managed to land safely, much to my satisfaction, and immediately determined to order a machine for myself and learn to fly. The feeling is most delightful and wholly indescribable. The body being supported from above, with no weight or strain on the legs, the feeling is as if gravitation had been annihilated, although the truth of the matter is that one hangs from the machine in a rather awkward and wearying position.

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Nor did the Woods let scientific work keep them from participating in the gay life of the American colony in Berlin, along with another young American couple whom they’d met and liked after a chance encounter between the two husbands in the physical laboratory at the university. One day Wood noticed a student engaged in a problem similar to his own. After the formal nods and Guten Tage of an amiable but defensive neutrality, Wood asked in German for a match. “Gewiss”, said the other, and then, “But you’re an American, aren’t you?” The fellow-student was Augustus Trowbridge of New York, who afterwards rode to fame as professor of physics at Princeton. They brought their wives together, and all four became friends with Charles DeKay, then American consul general. There were rounds of receptions, teas, dinners, grand opera, the Winter Garden with its clowns, including Lavater Lee, who clowned in formal evening dress and without make-up.

Young Wood, aided and abetted by Trowbridge, occasionally did a bit of clowning too — usually at the expense of the stolid German police and petty officials. One of Trowbridge’s favorite stories concerning Wood had to do with a fracas on the el. The elevated railroad which girdled Berlin had first-, second-, and third-class carriages. Only princes, millionaires, and fools rode first class. Trowbridge and Wood had green commutation tickets for the second class. One day when the station police were conspicuously on the job and vigilant, Robert bought a yellow third-class ticket, darted through the gate, and, waving it ostentatiously, plunged with Trowbridge into the compartment of a second-class carriage. A policeman was immediately on his heels, entered the compartment, and as the train pulled out began an angry harangue. Wood pretended not to understand German well and by the time they were rolling into the Zoologischer Garten station, the policeman was purple with rage. He seized Wood by the arm and said, “You must get out here”.

Wood said reproachfully, in his worst German, “No, I don’t get out here. I get out at Friedrich-Strasse”.

“Dummkopf!” exploded the guard. “Gleich heraus!”

“Nein! Friedrich-Strasse heraus.” By that time the train was under way again, and when they got off at Friedrich-Strasse, Wood was arrested. He then produced from his pocket the green commutation ticket and pityingly suggested that the policeman must be either color blind or crazy.

Despite all the high jinks, nonsense, and extracurricular activity, Wood had worked hard and well during the two years in Berlin. His independent researches on determining temperature in vacuum tubes brought his first little early blaze of glory and paved the way for future recognition. His paper had been published internationally.