Editor’s note: The same Jackie Lodman (BS ’20, Dabney) who ordered the pieces for the LEGO – now completing her PhD in theoretical physics at Harvard — sent this remembrance. It is presented here in her words, lightly edited by Spiropulu.
Like many Caltech physics students of my generation (2016-2020), I met Mark during Ph125A. I was the kind of student to sit in the front row and ask questions, so I’d say I got to know him pretty well in class. Enough to invite him to formal dinner that first quarter. I was interested in particle phenomenology, but that wasn’t why I started going to those group meetings. What actually happened was one day Mark and my undergraduate advisor Sean Carroll saw me through the glass door taking leftover pizza from the group meeting and invited me in. Later he told me that he always bought extra pizza for the formal theorists and undergraduate scroungers. But it’s ok, “I eat their sandwiches on Fridays, so it evens out.” I started going to meetings every week for the rest of my Caltech career (until COVID shut that down).
Mark would end up taking the entire Ph125B class to the Panda Inn that year (a pricey sit down Chinese restaurant that used to be near campus, you are likely more familiar with its spin off Panda Express). He probably spent $500 on that meal. Why? For fun, I think. He even let me go the next year when he took current Ph125B students. Mark also bought us all pizza when he had to do a make-up evening class once or twice. I think he was afraid he would be making us choose between dinner and class. I know Mark was afraid of putting too much stress on students; he told me once that he always approved extensions in case it helps someone going through a rough patch.
The next year, I was stressing about applying to PhD programs in particle phenomenology. Mark told me it would be ok if I didn’t get in anywhere the first try, he didn’t. Mark never seemed to take things like that personally. He worked on “little problems,” as he told me, and hoped that his contributions would be useful to the field. Though I never did research with him, Mark wrote a letter of recommendation or two for me. My other recommenders got a box of fancy chocolates in thanks, but I had something special in mind for Mark. He got a pair of socks with pictures of his face and “Physicists just want to have fun” (his catchphrase) printed on them. Mark was quite enamored with them, as I knew he would be. I don’t know if they ever got worn as socks, Mark thought they were too cool to be worn.
By that point, I had started inviting myself to lunch with the phenomenology group. Aneesh Manohar and Elizabeth Jenkins were visiting that quarter, so Mark tried to get lunch with them every day. One day near the end of fall term, we arrived at Browne around the same time as several busloads’ worth of small children. Mark opened the door, looked inside, and said “you know what, let’s go to the Ath on me!” and that’s where we went. That’s just who Mark was.
Later, I’d invite him to eat dinner at my house (Dabney) on grill night, where the undergraduate waiters grilled steak and chicken provided by CDS. This happened every Thursday. It should be noted that the undergraduate houses require a keycard to get in, so I would have to let Mark in. The day before he was scheduled to visit, I went to dinner with a friend at a restaurant with no cell service. When I got service again, I realized I had a message from Mark. He said dinner was good, but he wondered where I was. Apparently, Mark had mixed up the days and got another student to let him in since I wasn’t there. Everyone loved Mark, and we were happy to have him over for dinner anytime.
Only Mark would have no problem getting students to let him through locked house doors. Eventually, COVID hit, and that was the last I saw of Mark in person for a few years. We corresponded via email; I ended up being advised at Harvard by a friend and collaborator of Mark’s — he actually introduced us back when I was a senior at Caltech. In the years I returned for Ditch Day, I sometimes gave a talk at those same Thursday pizza lunches I had once scavenged from. They weren’t a regular occurrence anymore, but Mark always bought pizza for everyone like the good old days when I came. The last time was this year. I only saw Mark for a few minutes; he had to teach and then rush off for doctor appointments.
Mark actually missed my talk because he had a last-minute appointment get rescheduled. But I was fine with that, he’d make it to the next one, so I thought. I couldn’t believe the news when I received it. He seemed so normal when I saw him in May. So alive. I had always wanted to work with him on an actual research project, and with Zoom that’s easier than ever. Mark was a pillar of the phenomenology group at Caltech. He was always the first one I emailed when I decided to fly back and the first office I visited when I got there. And now that office will be empty or taken by someone else.
Mark wouldn’t want it to remain empty. He always talked about retiring so a younger person could get a faculty job (an issue in our field). As soon as he was done taking students, he’d retire. Mark was passionate about allowing the next generation to flourish. In the days leading up to the COVID shut down, Mark morbidly joked about some faculty positions opening up in the near future. No one else at that table was over 30 and none of us said anything either. I hope that wish is honored.
I can’t claim to know Mark as well as one of his graduate students did, let alone his colleagues at Caltech. I was never his student (in the research sense), but he embodied the kind of professor I want to be some day. At his funeral, it was wonderful to see so many faces from all walks of life. His death will not be real to me until I return to his office and see he’s no longer there.
Message of student appreciation (not taken during a class he taught because it’s from my senior year).
Mark in Dabney’s “Bear Pit”; taken for a gag article.
Mark’s quantum mechanics DMV apron (because he gives out “licensed quantum mechanic” shirts; apparently people who used to work at the DMV wore aprons?).
Mark in the shirt Dabney tie-dyed for him.
Introducing Mark to my cat, Mercury.
The socks. (Credit: Mark Wise)
All images provided by Jackie Lodman.