From Plant Press, Vol. 24, No. 1, January 2021.
Harold Robinson left quite an impression on all of those who met him. The Department of Botany received many messages expressing sympathy and condolences upon his passing. Here are a just a few reflections of our colleague and friend.
Left: Harold Robinson with NMNH intern Abby Moore in 2003. (photo by Smithsonian Institution)
Right: Harold Robinson with Raymund Chan. (photo by Carol Kelloff)
Laurence J. Dorr
I first met Harold Robinson in 1977 or 1978 when the professor at Duke University teaching the Bryology class I took invited him to meet our class. Lewis E. Anderson, who had been Harold’s dissertation advisor, was the professor and the class was wonderful, a combination of Bryophyte taxonomy and field work. We wandered all over the southeastern U.S. collecting mosses and then identifying them in the lab. I cannot recall why Harold was visiting Duke, but Lewis set up the introduction with a few stories. The first was that he took exception to the way Harold described a new genus of moss in his honor. Bryoandersonia H. Rob. was described as forming “julaceous” branches, which apparently was a sly dig at Lewis who had been overweight. It took me a long time to appreciate that julaceous means resembling an ament or catkin and is not technically a synonym for fat. The second story was that Harold could be quirky. For some reason when a student at Duke he decided not to speak, and according to Lewis it was months (or longer) that Harold remained silent.
After getting a M.A. at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I then moved to the University of Texas at Austin. There I met another side of Harold. According to Billie Turner, professor of Botany and systematist specializing in Asteraceae, Harold was the architect of a crazy scheme to reorder the species-rich Eupatorieae (Asteraceae). As I recall, Billie kept assigning his students projects to revise different groups of Eupatorieae and I always thought it was part of an effort by Billie to discredit Harold the upstart Bryologist turned Synantherologist. I was not especially interested in Asteraceae, so I never became heavily invested in the debate, which ultimately Harold won. His application of micromorphological techniques common to Bryology to the study of Asteraceae was revolutionary and proved illuminating.
Arriving in DC in early 1992, I became a professional colleague of Harold and grew quite fond of him. We, as did many others, chatted most days and the subjects were all sorts of things Botanical and otherwise. Yes, some of them were stories about Lewis and others Billie. Harold told me that he remembered his visit to the class that Lewis taught, but he did not remember me. He laughed his well-known Harold laugh when I told him Lewis took exception to being called julaceous.
Left: Harold Robinson and Mauricio Bonifacino in May 2008. (photo by Carol Kelloff)
Right: Harold Robinson and Ken Wurdack at the 2009 Smithsonian Botanical Symposium during a reception at the U.S. Botanic Garden. (photo by Leslie Brothers)
Alice Tangerini
Back in the 1970s, friend and freelance contract illustrator Mary Monsma and I decided to have a surprise birthday party for Harold. For some reason we thought it was his 50th birthday so we alerted some of the staff that this was planned and held in NMNH Room W520 where Mary worked. We had a cake made that said, “Happy 50th Birthday”, and had other foodie items and plates all arranged on the table.
We had to decide how to have Harold come to the room since he wouldn’t come unless there was a reason to do so. Harold had placed a plant in the window next to Mary’s drawing table and asked Mary to watch to see if it began to exude latex and if it did to summon him right away. Mary reluctantly went to his room to ask him to come to W520 to check it. When Harold appeared in the doorway, we all exclaimed “Happy Birthday Harold!”. He realized the plant was a false bribe to have him come and said to Mary, “You, of all people!” and then saw that we had added a year to his age on the birthday cake so he madly stomped out and went down the hall. We followed him down the hall with the cake in our hands, but he was too annoyed with us to partake in the celebration. We ended up eating it ourselves.
Morgan Gostel
I have so many fond memories of Harold coming by to chat in "his" chair about anything and everything - he seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of just about anything we chatted about. I couldn't help but indulge the opportunity to chat with him, pick his brain, and make jokes. When I first started my postdoc and was living in Fairfax, Virginia, I often tried the patience of my fellow carpool mates who would arrive and be waiting for me to finish conversing with Harold before leaving.
I've been working on an NSF grant proposal for the African and Malagasy Vernonieae - a number of which Harold and Vicki had begun to revise. As such I had been corresponding with Harold – particularly on another new genus of Compositae from Madagascar... but admittedly not as often as I wish. I had hoped to have been able to visit a few times this year to work with Harold on these – with a large collection from Vicki and my 2016 trip to Madagascar and another large collection from Madagascar last December (these are in a box in Carol's office until the herbarium opens back up from the COVID pandemic). Harold was a great teacher for those who would ask (sometimes with a bit of persistence) and always had a humble answer. His replies were often prefaced with "well, this is how I see things, but who knows if they'll stay that way."
Mary Ann Apicelli
I was Harold’s timekeeper while he was still working full time. As with all federal employees, if individuals had more than 240 hours of annual leave employees are encouraged to use their leave before the end of the calendar year or lose it. I smile about how Harold handled that situation with his time because almost every year he would have excess leave. Harold’s solution – submit his leave request to use up those hours and still come into the office because he just didn’t want to stay home. I guess we were his family.
More recently it was Harold’s habit to stop by my office after looking in his mailbox. He would always say, “well, I may as well stop by to visit for a minute while I am down here” and sit down in front of my desk to talk. His mind was so sharp as he would discuss American history and the genealogy of his family. If I wasn’t busy, he would spend ten or fifteen minutes with me discussing many topics. When the phone rang or if someone would walk in for work related things, he would wander quietly away to return another day.
Left: Harold Robinson with Vicki Funk, Taylor Quedensley, Mauricio Bonifacino, and Mauricio Diazgranados (photo by Smithsonian Institution)
Right: Harold Robinson speaking with attendees of the 2005 Smithsonian Botanical Symposium during a reception at the U.S. Botanic Garden. (photo by Leslie Brothers)
Julia Beros
When I first came to the USNH Harold was a fast friend. He had seemingly endless and obscure anecdotes, knowledge, and wisdom, and I had open ears. Our offices were next to each other, and he confessed that there used to be a window gap between the two, but it was filled because there were complaints of his loud and frequent cussing. Not a day was dull with Harold next door, and I am grateful for all that he shared of his knowledge and friendship, not to mention his unwavering dedication to science and the pursuit of knowledge. He inspired me to look for truth, to have patience and a steady gaze, to work with purpose, to practice light-hearted hijinks, and to indulge in curiosity.
Charles Zartman
The most brilliant person I ever personally had the chance to meet.
Justin Runyon
This is a huge loss. I only met Harold a few times, but he graciously corresponded and answered many questions via email. I smile when his work on Dolichopodidae is described as a "side interest", given his enormous contributions. But it was a side project, and a testament to how remarkable he was. His work on micro-dolichopodids remains a huge inspiration for me. He kept specimens in his office - these were of interest to him and thus will be an important addition to the NMNH Diptera collection.
I remember the amazing collecting stories he told which he recalled in vivid detail (30-40 years later). I regret not recording these stories that were full of personal, historical and biological insight. I told him that he should write an autobiography, but he just laughed (his characteristic laugh). Selfishly, I hope he did. It was an existence well spent.
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