By Thomas P. Carney '37
The first real, live scientists I ever came into contact with were at Notre Dame. I did not know
then they were great scientists. At that time it seemed only natural that they should be there
doing whatever they did.
Father Julius Nieuwland, CSC, shown left, worked in a lab on the second floor of the Chemistry
Building. It was not a special lab. It was just like the ones that we as undergraduate students
worked in. In fact, it was adjacent to our lab, so we were accustomed to feeling a part of all the
research activities taking place.
We were also accustomed to living in the odoriferous atmosphere created by researchers
working with ammonia, acetylene and boron trifluoride. We had on each desk a faucet from
which we could obtain flasks of liquid ammonia as easily as we could obtain a flask of water.
We had no fume hoods then, and working in that lab convinced me it was not necessary to have
oxygen to live.
Father Nieuwland, a Belgian by birth, made his reputation originally as a botanist. He
founded the American Midland Naturalist, a publication still being produced. Late in his life he
turned to organic chemistry. In the early 1930s his reputation as a leading expert in acetylene
chemistry was secure. It was at that time, too, that he did the chemical work on which the
production of synthetic rubber, neoprene, was based.
I was the proud possessor of a sample of the first synthetic rubber ever produced in a
laboratory. Shortly before I left the campus for Christmas vacation my freshman year, Father
Nieuwland gave me about an inch cube of his product. Wanting to show it off at home, I
wrapped it in a wool sweater and placed it in my suitcase for the trip home. By the time I got
there the next day, the odor of chemicals had pervaded the entire suitcase. After several trips
through the wash, most of the clothes recovered. However, the sweater refused to give up its
odor. It was sent to a cleaner whose wrath soon descended on my head because the odor had
contaminated his batch of cleaning fluid. The sweater was buried, along with the rubber sample.
In those days the disposal of waste material was not the problem it is today. The solutions
could be informal and in some cases unusual. One of the residues of the work of Father
Nieuwland was a highly explosive polymer. The product could not very easily be poured down
the drain nor could it be disposed of in the regular garbage disposal. Father Nieuwland solved
the problem very simply by periodically placing the containers of polymer on a pole behind the
laboratories and then shooting them with a .22 rifle. The source of these periodic miniature
explosions was a closely kept secret.
For awhile it was thought that the acetylene residue could be made into a marketable
product. It was discovered that, when the polymer was dissolved in a solvent and spread on a
laboratory bench surface, the surface became impermeable to everything -- acids, bases,
solvents, etc. It also dried to a beautiful hard finish. A number of benches were coated with
excellent results. At least the results were excellent initially. Then, bothersome things began to
happen. The coated surface actually exploded. It was then discovered that the polymer reacted
with oxygen to form explosive peroxides that detonated with any sharp blow. The residue again
became a target for the .22.
Father Nieuwland was also known as a severe critic of scientific presentations. The
American Chemical Society section meetings were held in a classroom in the Chemistry
Building. Father Nieuwland would always assume a seat near the side blackboard. As the
speaker gave his talk, Father Nieuwland could be observed occasionally making a cryptic note
on the blackboard. This was universally known to be a reminder to ask a penetrating question at
the conclusion of the presentation. I have known many a speaker to be reduced to a bundle of
nerves before his speech had ended, as the notes became more and more frequent.
I must admit that sometimes the motive of students attending these meetings was as much
to observe the speaker's reactions as it was to hear the scientific presentation. Of course, Father
Nieuwland was totally unaware of the grief he was causing. He was motivated solely by a desire
to have things correctly and clearly understood. Had he known the effect of his actions, I'm not
sure he would have changed. At least I can't accuse him of purposely harassing the speakers.
On June 10, 1936, I said goodbye to Father Nieuwland at the railroad station in South
Bend. He was on his way to Washington, I was on my way to my home in Du Bois,
Pennsylvania, for my summer vacation. I had just finished my junior year at Notre Dame. My
father was a railroader, so I was traveling on free passes. Because of the need to avoid
"foreign passes" on railroads other than my father's, it was necessary for me to travel by a
round-about route, making several train changes on the way. Consequently I didn't arrive home
until late the next afternoon. It was then that I learned Father Nieuwland had died of a heart
attack while visiting Catholic University in Washington.
Dr. Carney, who holds a degree in chemical engineering, is a Laetare Medal recipient and former Notre Dame Board of Trustees chairman.
(January 2007)
