Memories of Daniel Koon

I've known Daniel since I started at St. Lawrence in 1990. We shared a common love of science fiction and he introduced me to several international sci-fi films. He had an offbeat sense of humor that I appreciated (and sometimes was the only one in the department who 'got it'). I'll remember him most for going to extremes to perform demonstrations for his physics class that the rest of us were hesitant to try: Swinging a bowling-ball pendulum starting from his face to demonstrate conservation of energy (and standing still and not getting hit by it on the backswing); "drinking" liquid nitrogen from a small dewar (I never asked him how he did that one); or lying on a bed of nails with a cinder block on his chest while a student hammered a nail into a board on the cinder block. These demos certainly made an impression on students. Daniel will be greatly missed, and condolences to his Judy, Eli, and the rest of his family and friends.  Jeff Miller, Physics

Daniel came to St. Lawrence the year after I arrived, and although I don’t remember exactly how or when we first met, we connected immediately. We shared a geekiness about our disciplines, a sense of humor of a kind that was not always understood by everyone else (along the lines that Jeff Miller has noted in his remembrance), and an appreciation for the absurdities that one often encounters, both in academia and everywhere else in life. He knew that what he was doing at St. Lawrence—in both teaching and research—was important, and he also wanted it to be fun.
Very quickly, the on-campus friendship between Daniel and me grew to a close friendship of our families as well. My wife Sue and I still delight in recalling the afternoon we called up Daniel and Judy at 4:30 to ask, “By any chance, would you like to go to Ottawa for dinner tonight?” Of course they did. At some point we started one of our most cherished traditions, getting our families together, along with Nadia Marano, Jeff Weeks, and their son Adam, for a vegetarian-friendly Thanksgiving dinner. When Sue and I moved away from Canton to Memphis, TN, for several years, Daniel and Judy gave us the most appropriate going-away present imaginable: a painting of Elvis Presley on black velvet. We hung it with pride in our guest bedroom—or, as we called it, the Elvis Room—and were honored when they became our first guests, fittingly at Thanksgiving. And yes, we made the pilgrimage to Graceland.
Daniel’s mixture of playfulness and healthy skepticism led him to his most notable research project, on the supposed fiber-optic properties of polar bear fur. The suggestion that polar bears stayed warm because the hairs on their bodies channeled sunlight down to their skin sounded so amazing that people just decided to believe it. It took someone like Daniel to say, “Well, maybe, but why don’t we test it?” And with his experimentalist’s skills and his “what, the heck, let’s just do it” attitude—and with the help of St. Lawrence students—he got some polar bear hair and ran the tests. Myth busted!
There was so much more that made Daniel a fascinating person to know: his affectionate insights about his “Pensyltucky” roots (as he sometimes put it) and the “yinzers” who live there; his devotion to the Steelers (or rather, “the Stillers”); his deep dive into the world of Cuban science fiction; and really anything else that caught the attention of his nimble mind. But more than all that, it was the goodness of his heart that I will remember. Daniel was one of the closest friends of my life. He is missed.  Michael Sheard, Math, CS, & Stat - retired