Authors

	Susan Sontag (click for larger version)

Once viewers catch on that Woody Allen’s 1983 comedy Zelig is a fake documentary about a man who never actually existed, the joke is in how extensively Allen creates a pastiche of the documentary form. The requisite pauses in the story for comments by observers, analysts, and sundry talking heads are the funniest part of Allen’s method, and the funniest talking head is Susan Sontag. That’s not because she has any funny lines. It’s because she doesn’t. So influential, profound, and brilliant are Sontag’s critical views on all matters cultural, that her very presence in the film signifies the ultimate commentary. The scene is equivalent to Gertrude Stein, Edmund Wilson, or Jean Paul Sartre making a cameo appearance in a Bob Hope comedy.

After entering college at age 16 and fairly blowing away everyone at Berkeley, University of Chicago, Harvard, and the Sorbonne, the groovy brunette with a bride-of-Frankenstein streak in her mane decided to share with the world her innumerable ideas about art and life (for her they were indistinguishable). An article published in Partisan Review in 1964 called “Notes on Camp” was, in literary circles, akin to The Rolling Stones appearing on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” or maybe even the premiere of Citizen Kane. With that essay, and subsequent “assaults” in The Atlantic Monthly, Granta, The New York Review of Books, and various other intellectually inclined periodicals, Sontag provided a brand new way of discussing significant ideas in Western culture and minor ideas in popular culture. The new Bob Dylan album, Godard’s latest film, William James, and Freud were all part of the same story—or critique. Each was crucial to understanding the human creative experience. Yet during her explosion onto the arts and literary scene of the 1960s, what was most exciting for the hipsters, bohemians, and New York intellectuals who embraced/feared her was that Sontag made feasible the notion that one could read everything and know everything that mattered. She simultaneously demonstrated that no one could do it better. In that context, it’s extremely revealing that Sontag once defined the term “polymath” as “a person who is interested in everything, and nothing else.”

The publication of Sontag’s collection of essays titled Against Interpretation (1968) was virtually tectonic in its impact. Here she argues that understanding any work of art starts from intuitive response and not from analysis or intellectual considerations. “A work of art is a thing in the world, not just text or commentary on the world.” Other important works such as On Photography and Illness as Metaphor brought challenging ideas about contemporary culture out of the academy and into popular discourse. Not on Johnny Carson’s show, of course, or in the daily newspapers, but Sontag did to some extent prop open the doors to formerly exclusive salons. That’s mainly because her lucid, confident writing style, which is reinforced by a devastating (and yet somehow celebratory) wealth of intellectual inquiry and research, remains free of academic jargon and postmodern tics.

Such a position as a cultural critic implies a certain amount of controversy, which Sontag always could generate with a few comments. The left-leaning, radical thinker might be famously wrong at times, but one feather in her cap was confronting her lefty pals and stating that “socialism is the human face of fascism.” She was also right about Sarajevo. But regarding her notorious claim that September 11 was the result of U.S. international policies and actions, well, remain on the far left long enough and you’re bound to self-destruct. —David Pelfrey

Daniel Boorstin

The Librarian of Congress from 1975 to 1987, Boorstin loved books and couldn’t understand why anyone else might not; he coined the term “aliterate” to describe those who could read but chose not to. During his tenure, appropriations for the Library of Congress rose from $116 million to more than double that figure, the vast holdings were opened to the public, and Boorstin established the Mary Pickford Theater to call attention to (and utilize) the library’s huge archive of motion pictures. He was the nation’s top cheerleader for libraries in general. Boorstin’s deepest interest was in history, although he was fond of pointing out that he was an amateur and not a professionally trained historian. That’s actually not worth pointing out, however, as he taught history at the University of Chicago for 25 years, held a post as director and senior historian at the Smithsonian Museum of History and Technology, and wrote a Pulitzer Prize-winning trilogy on American history and a subsequent four-volume history of the world. —D.P.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

“Whoever has seen the horrifying appearance of the postwar European concentration camps would be similarly preoccupied.” That’s Swiss psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross (78) speaking of her obssession with changing the treatment of dying patients. Kubler-Ross was greatly disturbed by what she witnessed in New York hospitals when she visited the U.S. in 1958. Her interest in death and her intensive study of the behavior of the terminally ill led to the publication of On Death and Dying in 1969. In less than a decade the book was a standard reference text for medical ethics and hospital policy. Her celebrated theory of the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) remains a valuable model of human behavior not only for patients, but also for loved ones, medical professionals, and caregivers. —D.P.

Olivia Goldsmith

The film version of The First Wives’ Club was a jaunty celebration of older women getting revenge on the thoughtless husbands who abandoned them for younger women. There were also plenty of jibes at cosmetic surgery, as also found in the source novel by Olivia Goldsmith (54). Too bad the author didn’t take her pro-aging stance more seriously. Instead, Goldsmith died from complications related to anesthesia during cosmetic surgery. —J.R.T.

Norris McWhirter

Along with twin brother Ross, Norris McWhirter (78) founded the Guinness Book of Records. Its first edition was printed in 1955, and among its earliest records was a Russian woman who gave birth to 16 sets of twins, seven sets of triplets, and four sets of quadruplets from 1725 to 1765. According to its own records, the Guinness Book of Records is the world’s best-selling copyrighted book, with more than 100 million sold. The McWhirter twins personally crammed 70 people into a compact car just to set a record. Ross was murdered in 1975 after posting a 50,000-pound reward for information leading to the arrest of Irish Republican Army terrorists. —E.R.

Inventors and Innovators

Estee Lauder attracts a crowd (click for larger version)

Growing up in an apartment above her father’s hardware store in Queens, Josephine Esther Mentzer was a nice Jewish girl with an ambitious spirit and an intense fascination with the lotions and potions her chemist uncle prepared in a little shop. She liked them so much that in 1946 she began selling skin creams at beach resorts and hotels. The determined Esther expanded her product line and practically bullied her way onto some counter space at Saks Fifth Avenue two years later, by which time she and her husband Joseph Lauder had created a “nice little company.” The products were fine, but the sales program was outstanding: exquisitely attired staff, sophisticated sales patter, and, by the way, madam . . . here’s a free sample (a.k.a. “the gift”). By 1953 the company was a well-recognized force in the cosmetics industry.

Its success was due to Lauder’s making certain that those free gifts and samples found their way into the handbags of the hottest celebrities, the social elite, and the otherwise well-to-do. If that meant entertaining guests on a lavish scale (plenty of fine wine, fine cuisine, and cartons of free cosmetics), well, that was just part of the sales game; “If I believe in something, I sell it, and I sell it hard,” she was fond of saying. A more famous, and certainly more profit-generating, quote was “There are no ugly women.” It was that attitude, along with Lauder’s sheer force of will, that helped create a $10 billion enterprise with locations in 130 countries and a daunting product line that includes MAC, Aveda, Clinique, Aramis, and Prescriptives, the sum of which currently constitutes a stunning 45 percent share of the cosmetics business in the United States. Estee Lauder is the only woman on Time‘s list of the 20 most influential business figures of the 20th century. She was 97. —D.P.

Al Lapin, Jr.

In 1958, Lapin and his brother Jerry invested $25,000 and founded the International House of Pancakes. “Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity” was an early marketing slogan for ridiculously sweet fruit-topped pancakes and waffles drenched in blueberry, boysenberry, strawberry, or maple syrup. Lapin (76) later owned the Orange Julius chain. His first venture was Coffee Time, carts that delivered urns of hot coffee to offices. Attractive presentation was of utmost importance, both in his personal attire and restaurants. Among his favorite sayings were “People eat with their eyes before they eat with their hands,” and “You have to look like a dollar to borrow a dime.” —Ed Reynolds

Francis Crick

Everyone who ever suffered through sophomore biology classes in high school has sketched (or traced) in their lab notebook the double helix, that famous twisted ladder of deoxyribonucleic acid, more commonly known as DNA. Today the term has made a complete transition from scientific jargon to the popular lexicon. Disparaging remarks about the origin of someone’s DNA or gene pool are common, as are police investigations (in the real world or in television dramas) that rely on DNA evidence. The business of bio-engineering and gene therapy is a huge industry now. Half a century ago, however, the very structure of DNA was a great mystery.

	Francis Crick (click for larger version)

It certainly intrigued the British-born biologist Francis Crick (88) and his young American-born colleague James Watson, both of whom were grappling with this puzzle at the Cavendish Laboratory in Cambridge, England, during the early 1950s. The pair finally concluded with the double helix, although confirmation of their results did not come for years. Crick nonetheless announced to friends at the University that they had “discovered the secret to life.” His approach was more subtle when it came time to publish their results in Nature in 1953, yet one particular understatement may resonate for all time: “It has not escaped our notice that the specific pairing we have postulated immediately suggests a possible copying mechanism for the genetic material.” In 1962 Crick and Watson were awarded the Nobel Prize. —David Pelfrey

In the 1960s, British electrical engineer Sir Godfrey Hounsfield created the computerized axial tomography scanner—the CAT scan. The CAT scan used X-rays to create three-dimensional images of the body’s interior, revolutionizing medical care. —E.R.

Dr. William Dobelle

William Dobelle (62) developed an experimental artificial vision system for the sight-impaired that involved transmission of electrical signals to electrodes implanted in the brain by way of a tiny camera attached to the user’s glasses. A portable computer receives images that are then sent to electrodes in the brain’s visual cortex. Four years before his death, his creation restored navigational vision to a blind volunteer. “I’ve always done artificial organs,” Dobelle told the New York Times. “I’ve spent my whole life in the spare-parts business.” —E.R.

Tom Hannon

The “father of the automated teller machine,” Tom Hannon pioneered the use of ATMs in locations other than banks. In the early 1990s he had machines in four Southern states. By the time he sold his U S. operation in 2002 to enter the British market, he had 2,500 machines in 40 states. —E.R.

Samuel M. Rubin

Popcorn was probably reasonably priced when Sam Rubin (85) began selling it in movie theaters during the Depression. He’d already built an empire with assorted New York City locations, but Sam changed the way we enjoy movies when he took his popcorn stands into theater chains such as RKO and Loews. His empire signaled the end of vending machines as the preferred mode of movie snacking. Rubin can also claim credit for inventing those oversized boxes of candy that sell for five times what you’d pay outside a movie theater. —J.R. Taylor

Red Adair

During the Gulf War in 1991, Iraqi troops retreating from Kuwait set fire to oil wells in the high-producing Ahmadi and Magwa fields, creating a potentially monumental economic and environmental disaster. All the task forces and experts, along with the team working for legendary oil well firefighter Paul “Red” Adair (89), agreed that extinguishing these mammoth fires would take three to five years. Thanks to the consultation, logistical support, and special equipment provided by Adair’s organization, the task was accomplished in nine months. This was a stunning feat, but observers familiar with Adair’s history were not really shocked. At the time, Adair already had more than 40 years of experience battling wild wells, blow outs, and other conflagrations in the deserts and on the high seas. (Adair’s amazing story is told in Hellfighters, starring John Wayne.)

Throughout the 1960s and ’70s, any time an oil rig exploded Adair’s team was called into action; the media coverage of these events justifiably portrayed Red Adair as an American hero. One of his more spectacular deeds involved the huge oil flame in the Sahara known as “The Devil’s Cigarette.” Today the highly specialized devices designed by Red Adair Service and Marine Company, Inc., are regarded as the Rolls Royces of firefighting equipment. —D.P.

Space is the Place

One of the original seven Mercury astronauts, Gordon Cooper (77) was perhaps the most controversial for his belief that the U.S. government was keeping secrets about UFOs. In 1951, Cooper was part of a squadron scrambled into the air over Germany after metallic objects resembling saucers were spotted flying in formation. Cooper also maintained that he saw a UFO crash at Edwards Air Force Base in California. He filmed the incident, but the film was confiscated by government officials. While orbiting the earth in Gemini 5, Cooper infuriated federal authorities when he inadvertently photographed the top-secret Nevada military base known as Area 51 while shooting outer space photos as part of a Pentagon film experiment.

Cooper was the first American to remain in space for an entire day when he flew the last Mercury mission in 1963. Despite his controversial UFO fascination and associated conspiracy theories, he was the backup commander for the Apollo 10 mission that flew to within 50,000 feet of the moon. On his Mercury mission, the electrical system failed, and Cooper had to pilot the spacecraft manually back to earth to splashdown. Cooper’s belief in UFOs was so strong that he testified about them to the United Nations in 1978 in hope that the U.N. would become a repository for collecting UFO sightings. He also wrote a book urging the government to tell what it knew about UFOs. Most, however, probably remember Cooper through Dennis Quaid’s portrayal of the astronaut in The Right Stuff. —E.R.

	Gordon Cooper (click for larger version)

Maxime Faget

While scientists were designing rockets to launch astronauts into outer space, Maxime Faget’s job was to bring space travelers home in one piece. Designer of the Mercury space capsule, which ushered the U.S. into the age of manned space flight, Faget’s dilemma was to protect a spacecraft and its occupants from heat when re-entering the earth’s atmosphere. (Astronauts return at 17,000 miles per hour in a craft that reaches temperatures of 4,000 degrees Fahrenheit.) Earliest theories called for a needle-nosed spaceship to cut down on air resistance, but Faget (83) scoffed at such Buck Rogers notions and designed a blunt-bodied craft that entered blunt end first to deflect most of the heat away from the craft. —E.R.

Fred Whipple

Originator of the “dirty snowball” concept, comet expert Fred Whipple (97) introduced the idea in 1950 that comets were balls of ice. This broke from the popular notion that comets were wads of sand held together by gravity. Whipple recognized that a comet’s arrival at a particular destination in outer space did not follow the predictability of gravitational pull only. He instead theorized that as a comet approached the sun, sunlight vaporized ice in its nucleus. Jets of particles resulted, functioning as a rocket engine to speed up or slow down the comet. Close-up photos of Halley’s Comet in 1986 proved Whipple to be correct. Whipple was also responsible for coming up with the idea of cutting aluminum foil into thousands of pieces and releasing the fragments from Allied aircraft over Germany. The tiny bits of foil confused the enemy; it appeared that thousands of planes were attacking. Some speculate that this is where the phrase “foiled again” originated. —E.R.

William H. Pickering

Director of Jet Propulsion Laboratories in California from 1954 to 1976, Pickering (93) was in charge of the United States’ first robotic missions to the moon, Venus, and Mars. Three months after Russia put the first satellite, Sputnik, into orbit in 1957, America launched Explorer I, its first orbiting spacecraft. A New Zealand-born electrical engineer, Pickering was a central figure in the Ranger and Surveyor landings on the moon, precursors to the Apollo flights that landed men on the moon. Initially, the Army oversaw Jet Propulsion Lab activity, but turned it over to NASA after the Russians launched Sputnik. —E.R.