An Afternoon with Freeman Dyson
Sometimes life aligns itself in a way that offers an opportunity to encounter greatness. I had the honor and privilege of meeting Freeman Dyson albeit under unfortunate circumstances.
This story is included under the Run for It category, since it was my love of running that enabled me to spend time with Mr. Dyson. However, this write up is largely about the brief, cherished time I spent getting to know him.
In May 2015, John Forbes Nash Jr. and his wife Alicia Nash died tragically in a car accident on the New Jersey Turnpike. They were returning to Princeton from Norway after he received the prestigious Abel Prize.
Most people know John Nash through the movie "A Beautiful Mind" with Russell Crowe, based on the biography of the same name. I knew of him because his wife was related to my father. As the only relative from my father’s side of the family in the New York area, I attended the funeral of John and Alicia Nash in Princeton.
The funeral was attended by luminaries from Princeton University, including well-known scientists and mathematicians. At the wake, as I piled cubed cheese and cut fruit onto my Styrofoam plate, a family friend said she wanted to introduce me to Mr. and Mrs. Freeman Dyson. I knew the name instantly. I turned around and there he was; an experienced, slim gentleman with a friendly smile, standing next to his wife, Imme Jung.
I bantered with them for about 20 minutes, mostly with Imme since she was also a runner. At one point during the conversation, Mr. Dyson mentioned he had to pay the parking meter. Imme advised him not to be concerned, given it was a Sunday. He insisted and began rifling through his pockets, eventually withdrawing a few coins, which he would gladly devote to feeding the meter.
Imme invited me to join her for a trail run and a picnic with a local New Jersey running club in the following weeks. She gave me her email and we coordinated the visit. When I arrived at the Princeton train station, Mr. Dyson was standing in the middle of the parking lot so that I would see him. He greeted me with his toothy smile and we proceeded to the car.
Most memorable, aside from his humble and generous spirit, were the stories Mr. Dyson shared. He talked about when he was young, how he and his family would travel by ship to Europe, how they all crammed into a room together, and that the long, slow trip was savored in good company. When I shared my interest in diving with sharks, he mentioned that at Princeton cafeteria they sometimes serve shark. He grinned and jokingly said in his residual English accent, “I hope it wasn’t one of yours.”
Imme mentioned how Freeman was still walking to campus almost daily with his leather satchel. He talked about John Nash, and Imme mentioned how nice Freeman was to him, even when others were disassociating with him as his mental health declined.
At the end of the run, we met at the club picnic. Mr. Dyson had driven there to meet us. He seemed to relish the festive and warm sunny day, and I smiled to myself as I watched him devour a hot dog as a teenager would. While chatting at the picnic, he mentioned Oliver Sacks, whom he knew very well. He talked about the “living funeral” he attended when Sacks was terminally ill, and what a joyous celebration it was of his life.
Me with Mr. Dyson and his wife Imme at the picnic after our trail run in New Jersey
Mr. Dyson passed away on February 28, 2020. RIP, Mr. Dyson. Your love of life and the immeasurable work you did will outlive the delicate limits of this planet, and will forever dance upon the stars and galaxies.