The Perkins Lab -- Neurospora Genetics and Biology
Department of Biological Sciences, Stanford University

When my first graduate project failed, I was excited to join the Perkins lab to do classical genetics in Neurospora.  Little did I know that I had found, not only a lifetime scientific home, but a second set of parents.  As with so many people, David and Dot not only welcomed me into the lab, but into their home and their hearts.  Dot soon became a mentor and colleague.  She showed me that you could be a mother and homemaker—late summer jam making sessions with Dot and Sue were a joyful time--also be active in civic affairs, play the cello and still be an excellent scientist.  Even after her health forced her to leave the lab, was there a better editor than Dot, finding the unacknowledged assumptions, inconsistencies and ambiguous sentences in any manuscript?  David was my scientific father—pulling, pushing and, yes, nagging me to be better than I thought I could be.  He was also a great source for good murder mysteries, travel tips and stories.  Both valued family and again set an excellent example of what life should be as they cared for David’s aging mother, were happy for me when I married and delighted in my children.  Did you know that among David’s many talents was the ability to teach kids how to make a deafening grass whistle? 

Science was their passion.  They saw it as a fascinating search for information, not a competition.    So they read, discussed experimental approaches, collaborated, encouraged others and shared ideas and results with anyone who was interested.  Lunch, if you forgot yours, was a peanut butter sandwich and a wormy homegrown apple but the intellectual feast was truly magnificent, especially as it often featured a visitor attracted to the energy and excellent scientific activity of the lab.  David also understood how to train students.  He felt that your professor pointed out interesting projects, advised and critiqued experiments but let you become the expert, making decisions and mistakes that made the project your own and one you could carry with you when you left the lab.  It was an excellent way to turn a raw recruit into a professional scientist and set an important example for my own teaching.  He also saw his role as one of opening doors for all who came through the lab.  He wrote letters of introduction and recommendation and suggested his people as seminar speakers and chapter writers as long as he was in contact with them.  He hated to see an ounce of scientific ability wasted and understood the pressures that women faced if they were to be scientists and have a whole life.  When we left for Paul’s new position at Washington State University he made many (successful!) contacts for me, but I still smile when I think of his parting words, “You know you just need a gas stove to attach your Bunsen burner to and a pressure cooker for media and you can do good Neurospora genetics.”  I knew I had better not give up science.