By John N. Howard, OPN Contributing Editor

A couple weeks ago, I introduced this blog by talking about OSA Honorary Member Albert Michelson, the first American to win a Nobel Prize in science (in 1907). He won that prize for his improved optical determination of the velocity of light.

For young people starting out in their careers, it can sometimes seem that optics luminaries such as Michelson were simply born to be stars. But, as the following story points out, Michelson had to work hard to make his start. In fact, he walked right into the Oval Office of the White House, and presented a plea directly to President Ulysses S. Grant.

Michelson was born in 1852 in Strelno, Prussia (now Strzelno, Poland).  When he was two years old, the family immigrated to America. They stayed a few weeks in New York City with some relatives. But the lure of the California Gold Rush caused Albert’s father, Samuel, to book passage to the West--by boat to Panama, then 50 miles across the Isthmus, and then again by boat to San Francisco.

They proceeded to Murphy’s Camp (about 150 miles east of San Francisco), where Samuel opened a store selling shovels, pick-axes and other supplies to the prospectors. Albert was sent to live with his father’s sister in San Francisco, where he attended the Boys High School, graduating in 1869. Meanwhile, Samuel moved his dry goods store to Virginia City, Nev., where the mining lure was now mostly silver.

The store was not prospering not well enough to think in terms of college for young Albert. In 1869, Samuel saw a notice in the paper announcing that Congressman Fitch of Nevada was authorized to appoint a candidate for the next class at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md., U.S.A.

About a dozen young high school graduates applied, and the congressman selected a committee to screen the applicants.The committee eliminated all but Michelson and two others, whom they regarded as tied for first place. The congressman selected young James Blakely, whose family connections were the strongest, and whose father had lost an arm in the Civil War. (In those days, the sympathies of most Californians and Nevadans were almost completely with the Union.)  

Albert was very disappointed, but not ready to give up. He bought a ticket to Washington on the transatlantic railroad—which had only been operating for about a year—and made the three-day journey to Washington.

He then presented himself at the White House, telling a young military receptionist: “I want to see the President.”  “Do you have an appointment?,” she asked. Albert then showed her his letter stating that he had tied for first place to an appointment to Annapolis, but had just barely missed out. The receptionist let him go on in, followed by a young naval orderly, who remained in the back of the room.

President Grant looked up from some papers he was reading, and then listened as 16-year-old Albert told his story. Albert was a bright, handsome young man, and President Grant also had a son of about the same age. But, he said, there is little he could do; he had already filled the ten appointments-at-large that had been authorized to the White House. Albert left, trying to hide his disappointment. On the way out the young Naval orderly said he should go to Annapolis, just in case any of the approved appointments had failed their entrance exams.

So on Albert went to Annapolis, and asked to see the Superintendent. It was three days before the Superintendant saw him.  He was told that there were no vacancies; but the Superintendant asked an examining officer to talk to Albert. After that interview a disappointed Albert returned to Washington, and the next morning boarded the train for the return trip to Nevada.

Just before the train was scheduled to leave, a military orderly walked through the train, calling his name, and brought him back to the White House. The interviewer at Annapolis had sent a message to the White House that Michelson appeared to have genuine talent; and President Grant had relented and approved Albert as an additional appointment!

In later years, Michelson liked to tell that story, and he chuckled that he had begun his career with an “illegal act,” since President Grant made an additional appointment beyond his authorized number.

Optics History, OSA Honorary Members, Physics History optics, OSA, optics history, Nobel, science history, Albert Michelson, physics, physics history, Ulysses S. Grant, honorary member

By John N. Howard, OPN Contributing Editor

In physics history, we associate several events with sudden insight by the discoverer. The most famous such event was perhaps when King Hiero of Syracuse (308-215 B.C.E) received a new crown, fashioned by a goldsmith, and Hiero had asked his science adviser Archimedes how could one check that the crown was really solid gold, and not merely a thin layer of gold over some cheaper material. Archimedes was supposedly pondering this problem when he went for a soak in a public bath, filled to the brim with water. As he got into the bath, some water sloshed out, and he suddenly realized that he could determine the density of that golden crown by measuring how much water it displaced when immersed. He already knew that pure gold should be eight times as heavy as water.

According to the story—or, perhaps, the myth—Archimedes then happily ran back to his house —naked—shouting “Eureka!” (“I have found it!”). 

Image from Wikimedia Commons. It shows how Archimedes may have used buoyancy to determine whether his crown was less dense than gold.

Physics History physics, physics history, scientific insight, eureka, archimedes, king herio, density

By John Howard, OPN Contributing Editor

I have been asked to launch a blog on optics history, or, more specifically, as that history relates to OSA. I have never blogged, and, as a matter of fact, I have never even read a blog by anyone else! But it cannot be too difficult, as there appear to be lots of bloggers with not much else to do. And my younger son says blogging is easy...so we will dive right into the deep end of the pool!

For several years we have tried to compose short columns in OPN relating to the history of OSA. That column involves digging up facts about optics people and events; presumably a blog is somewhat similar, but perhaps less formal.  

How about a blog about Albert Michelson? He is a hero of sorts in optics; he was the first American to win a Nobel Prize in science (in 1907), and he won that prize for his improved optical determination of the velocity of light. Michelson was not particularly active in the Optical Society--almost all of his publications were in journals of astronomy--and he won that prize nine years before the Optical Society even existed. But OSA later devoted several sessions to Michelson’s contributions, and he was elected an Honorary Member of OSA in 1922.

Michelson was not the first Honorary Member elected by OSA; at the founding meeting of the Society, in a classroom at Columbia University in late 1916, the 30 “Charter Members” of OSA had already elected as Honorary Members the well-known astronomer George E. Hale, as well as Charles Hastings and Edward Nichols (the last two university professors under whom several of the Charter Members had studied.) And at the 1922 OSA Board meeting Samuel Stratton was also elected an Honorary Member.

Stay tuned to this blog for more on Michelson, including the astonishing story of how he made his debut into the scientific world--by presenting a plea directly to President Grant!

Further Resources from OPN

Honorary OSA Members of the 1920s and 1930

Albert Abraham Michelson: Father of the Interferometer

Michelson's Stellar Interferometer

Albert Michelson, optics history, optics, OSA, The Optical Society, Nobel laureates