My first two years (4 semesters) at LTI from autumn of 1957 through the summer of 1959 were psychologically a very tough period in my academic training in this deeply technological environment.
Indeed, my 3rd semester represented the most intense, academic dissatisfaction in my climb toward a Bachelor of Science (B.S.) degree from that institute. Maybe, I might fail? Was it all for naught?
Slowly, I realized, then, that chemistry ought not to have been selected as my major field of interest. Fortunately, I, later, developed a keen interest in classical physics, thermodynamics, optics, integral and differential equations, quantum mechanics and modern physics including relativity to save me as a serious student, who had, perhaps, the intestinal fortitude, the guts, to continue onto graduate studies at another institute.
This type of internal, academic anxiety was, I believe, a common event in the lives of the other 500 entry-level students, who might also be coming soon to a “make or break” decision in their career choices. Remember that Dean Ivers had warned us all at our Convocation meeting in the fall of our freshman-year that only one person out of three would finish the 4-year set of studies. So, about 333 students among us were not expected to make the final cut.
A student or two had committed suicide by jumping off the Moody Street bridge onto the jagged, black rocks of the swiftly flowing Merrimack River below. Such tales were not uncommon.
However, maybe, these stories were only tall tales of alarm floating among us? I had no proof, one way or another, but this harsh reality was unnerving, for sure.
However, anxiety and a shaky amount of self-confidence did guide us eventually to an acceptable level of success, a BS degree from a respectable, technical institute!
Here, finally, was visible proof that we could be “real players” in this fascinating, post-Sputnik world that the Russians were presenting us.