It is with great sadness that I write this brief note on the occasion of the death of Dr. Brian J. Whipp. Brian was my friend and mentor. As a young post-doc at Harbor-UCLA I had the opportunity to work with and get to know some great men and scientists, Brian was one of them.
I recall fondly how Brian would walk into the lab or my office and say “Brew-up?!”. It was his invitation to brew some tea (which he drank with milk – something I never adopted) and spend some time in conversation. I never turned down an opportunity to interact with him. He was a true mentor in that he was always trying (sometimes successfully) to educate me about some aspect of life (not just the science). Brian would walk into the lab and ask a spontaneous question about a line from some Shakespearean play, knowing full well that I had little education in the classics. He would challenge me to name the play from which the line came. I didn’t enjoy being the only one in the room not knowing the answer, but it should be noted that he usually made his challenges when the Olivier Shakespeare movies were playing for free on the UCLA campus. My wife (Buffy) and I enjoyed the “classic” movies and I truly enjoyed guessing Richard III on one occasion and catching Brian quite by surprise. Brian knew it took more than lab work to make a successful scientist and I believe he wanted to see me become a complete professional. I hope I met his expectations.
I bought a copy of John West’s little book “Ventilation/blood flow and gas exchange” and Brian would interrogate me on my understanding – one painful chapter at a time. He taught me, by example, how to make a quality presentation to an audience. I have never seen anyone quite as good as Brian at “flowing” from one slide to the next. His preparation for important talks and presentations was amazing to watch and from which to learn. He taught me that everyone could use a little reminder that “words matter” and one should always use the correct ones. He taught me Latin when I reviewed one of his grant applications and had to ask the meaning of “Post hoc, ergo propter hoc” (I thought at least some of the reviewers would have to look it up as well). He taught me Welsh – at least enough to offer a drinking toast (and I taught my children). He taught me so much that I can’t recall it all. One Whippism that will always stay with me is “No matter what you say, if you say it with confidence – people will believe you”. That Whippism has served me well throughout my academic and administrative career.
Shortly after leaving Harbor-UCLA for a position at the University of Louisville, School of Medicine, I arranged for Brian to visit and give a Grand Rounds lecture to the Department of Medicine and a seminar to our Physiology & Biophysics Department. To my surprise, after the seminar Brian asked that I take him to a local Medical Office Building. In the basement of the building was a locker room with squash courts for the physician’s private use. I sat in the stands with several dozen very interested physicians as Brian and a local MD played a challenge match in squash. I didn’t know that Brian was an internationally ranked squash player and that the fellow he was playing was even higher ranked. As I recall, Brian lost the match and after showering, we continued our visit as if the squash match was merely an arranged interlude. Buffy, Brian, and I went to dinner that night and he was introduced to a local Kentucky bourbon, Maker’s Mark. Unknown to me, Brian was also a connoisseur of fine whiskey and bourbon. I knew so much about him and so little. That was how Brian liked to keep things.
Buffy and I want to pass along our deepest sympathy to Brian’s family and loved ones. We will miss him greatly. I don’t know what else to say except “iechyd da”, Brian.
Rick & Buffy Stremel, Louisville, Kentucky.