An insider’s look at a university collection so valuable, the professor who built it once stole it back.
The earliest herbarium—a collection of plant samples preserved for scientific study—dates to 16th-century Italy, when the Bologna physician and botanist Luca Ghini (1490–1556) sought to make plant material available to his students in winter when the plants were dead or dormant.
The specimens were flattened between two pieces of paper to remove moisture. Once dried, they were mounted on paper sheets with notations on the plant’s name, where the plant was gathered, and any distinctive features. The pages were bound into volumes to enable transport from one location to another, thus making plant material from faraway places available indefinitely.
The Stewarts at Westwood
Robert Bruce Stewart (HDR M’68), known as R.B., joined the Purdue University staff as controller in 1925. At that time, Purdue enrolled 3,000 students, the physical plant was worth $3 million, and the endowment totaled $340,000.
Stewart, who went on to become the university’s first vice president and treasurer, is credited by many with influencing the character and growth of Purdue University. He spent 36 years building the university both fiscally and physically.
Geochemist Marissa Tremblay ’12 analyzes Antarctic rocks to unravel Earth’s climate chronology and predict the planet’s future environment
A geologic field excursion to Death Valley during spring break her first year at Barnard set Marissa Tremblay ’12 on course to becoming a scientist. She entered college intending to pursue a law degree, but stepping foot on that vast, desolate desert landscape marked with sand dunes ignited a curiosity to uncover the stories in stones.
50 Years of Wolf Park
Founded by Purdue ethologist Erich Klinghammer in 1972, Wolf Park began as an experiment to study wolf behavior. The pioneering research conducted there over the past 50 years contributed to a better understanding of the apex predator and facilitated its reintroduction into the wild.
Twenty Years After 9/11 Longhorn Reflects on the Unexpected Detour—and the Subsequent Broadway Show—that Altered His Life’s Trajectory
On the morning of September 11, 2001, Kevin Tuerff and his then-partner, also named Kevin, were on an Air France flight bound for New York City. The couple had just wrapped up a European vacation and they were eager to get home. A sudden drop in elevation over the Atlantic Ocean was the first sign that something was amiss. Then came an announcement from the cockpit.
Meet the sports turf managers who maintain America’s ballparks
You’ve heard of the seventh inning stretch? Joey Stevenson is a big fan of the fourth inning nap.
The head groundskeeper for the Indianapolis Indians keeps a pillow under his desk. Following the third inning drag, he checks the radar, and if skies are clear, he can grab a quick 35 minutes of shut-eye before he needs to prep for changing bases and dragging again in the sixth.
Last apparel design and technology majors showcase collections in the final Purdue Fashion Show
The day has finally arrived. It’s five o’clock in the morning when the hair and makeup teams roll into the Cordova Recreational Sports Center and begin setting up the makeshift studio space where they will be camped for most of the day.
Designers arrive soon after, already exhausted from the previous day spent transforming the feature gym next door into a fashion runway and the previous evening running a dress rehearsal and finalizing their choreography. Not to mention the previous three months spent planning and organizing the final details of the show and the previous year spent designing and constructing their garments.
The past four years have all led to this day, when the last students majoring in apparel design and technology will showcase their capstone collections.
It’s the final Purdue Fashion Show.
Tyler Trent was diagnosed with bone cancer twice by age 18. He’s had nine major surgeries in the past three years. Now the Purdue freshman and die-hard sports fanatic is determined to live life on his own terms, come what may.
Tyler Trent knows the statistics.
According to the American Cancer Society, about 450 children and adolescents are diagnosed with osteosarcoma in the United States every year. About 2 percent of all childhood cancers are osteosarcoma. If treated before it spreads, the five-year survival rate is between 60 and 80 percent. Recurrent osteosarcoma occurs in 30 to 50 percent of patients with initialized local disease. If the disease has spread to the lungs, the long-term survival rate is about 40 percent. Once it spreads to other organs, chance of survival drops to 15 to 30 percent.
Innovative Boilermakers whose work impacts the daily lives of millions
From his fourth-floor home office perched on so-called Billionaires Row, Keith Krach (IE’79) can see the entirety of the San Francisco Bay and the famous Golden Gate Bridge that spans the strait connecting the bay to the Pacific Ocean. It’s an impressive vista and a far cry from his hometown of Rocky River, Ohio, a Cleveland suburb.
It all started with an image of White Sands. About 10 years ago, Brian Leung, director of the Creative Writing Program, attended an exhibition on graphic art at the Cincinnati Museum of Modern Art. He was captivated by a Ford Times hand-pulled silkscreen print created by Cincinnati-based modern artist Charley Harper (1922–2007), best known for his highly stylized wildlife illustrations. Harper’s 1953 White Sands, New Mexico, was part of a themed series of natural and man-made wonders titled Horseless Carriage Adventures.
One of the first things a young cadet learns is how to properly shine military-issue leather shoes.
ROTC programs are designed to model operational military units for which customs and courtesies — including a meticulously presented uniform — are the foundational basis for etiquette and conduct.
Col. Chris Moss (LA’90), commander of the 30th Space Wing and Western Range, Vandenberg Air Force Base, in central California, fondly remembers shining shoes with his flight, the two dozen junior cadets for whom he served as flight commander in ROTC. In those days, patent leather shoes were a privilege afforded to senior cadets, which meant Friday night gatherings for underclassmen, replete with cotton balls and wax.
The mascots are a rowdy bunch. Outgoing, goofy pranksters, they are constantly laughing and joking with one another. They act pretty much exactly how you’d expect a mascot to act. The antics come naturally for Nick Sprecher, a first-year Pete from Pittsboro, Indiana. “I’ve always been an energetic, whimsical guy,” he says. “I like to bring the juice to every environment. If it’s dead, I liven things up. That’s just my personality.”
