MIT Professor August Witt (RIP)
Gus was more than a friend. He was a Renaissance Man.
That’s 31 Prospect Street, Winchester MA, 01890, a home that belonged to Professor August Witt, from Austria.
Gus, as he was known to his friends, was not just a Professor at the globally-esteemed Massachusetts Institute of Technology, he was also a:
*Fighter Pilot in WW2 for Austria
*Olympic Fencer
*Made a REALLY good cheeseburger
*Called me “fat American boy” when I was 17 and I thought it was AWESOME.
Dr. Witt smoked cigarettes and drank cold Austrian beer.
He would come home after work, roll up his sleeves, and go to work in his yard.
He had a red phone like this one in his study:
The phone was a direct, secure, top secret line to NASA.
How did I find this out at age 17 in 1996?
Welp… I was visiting his son, my buddy in high school, and I walked into his study right as it happened to ring one time.
I watched in fascination as he spoke all kinds of words into the phone that I knew had something to do with science and was probably not the kind of thing you wanted a teenager overhearing for about 1000 reasons.
I started to quietly slink away when, in the act of backing up, I stepped on his cat’s tail by mistake and “MEEEEEOW HISS GRRRRR!” went Kitty.
Gus looked up at me and I will never forget what he said next…
Gus (into phone): “Hold on Commander. The fat American boy is back!”
Gus (to me): “GET ZEE FUCK OUTS OF MINE OFFICE!”
and he put the phone down on his desk and ran across the room with the speed of 100 cheetahs and slammed the double French doors in my face so hard I thought the glass would break.
I was sad. I respected Dr. Witt a lot and I thought he was going to kick me out of his house forever after all.
I had no clue what boundary I had violated but I knew it was serious.
After about 10 minutes of sitting alone in his kitchen staring out the window, he comes into the room.
Gus: “Sorry about zat, Justins…. You know I do VERY sensitive research at zee college zat nobody can ever know about! Vhat vere you thinking, boy?”
Me: (Stammering) I-uh… well… I…
Gus: (loudly): Speak, liebling! Speak! (Liebling = little one in German)
Me: I was just curious about your office and I think you are an awesome dude and I just wanted to learn what you were up to. I’m sorry, Dr. Witt. It won’t happen again. I can walk home…
Gus (softening his voice and demeanor): Oh, for Christ sake. Another soft little American boy. Come here. Sit with me. I will tell you. But if you tell a SOUL.. (Gus lights a cigarette and points a finger at me…)
Me: (excited) Yeah yeah… I’ll die in an Austrian airforce fire bombing your send to my house… OK… tell me! Tell me!
Gus: Vee have been working with The NASAs for many years now to grow crystals in space.
[From his pants pocket, Gus produces a shiny red gemstone, a ruby, about the size of a tennis ball.]
Gus: Do you see ziss Ruby, my boy? Ziss Ruby is unique in the known universe!
Me: C’mon….
Gus: [hauls on his cigarette and chugs half a beer]: No! I am not doing what do you Americans call it? Zee Bullshitting? No bullshitting! Ziss Ruby is priceless! It’s quality is beyond what we human beings called perfection!
Me: Wait.. So MIT put you in charge of making NASA rich by growing crystals in Space?
Gus: (playfully pounds the kitchen table): No you dolt! (We loved it when he crapped all over us. It was hilarious with his accent.)
This Ruby is for a special kind of microchip, like in zee computers you use as school to become less stupid as an American. And this is the part I am very proud of…
I designed it!
Me: (JAW DROPS OPEN) - There were no emojis back then, so our jaws literally opened up and almost hit the floor.
Are you SERIOUS, Dr. Witt?
Gus: Yes, and call me Gus, goddammit. My annoying American graduate students call me Dr. Witt all day at VERK and I am at mines house. You are my guest. Have a beer. Do you smoke?
And that’s the story of how I found about NASA Crystals in Space for Microchips and started smoking Marlboro Reds from age 17 to age 27.
THE END.
