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| An ambitious writer, Waldemar Kaempffert |
Think fearlessly of Waldemar
Kaempffert, one of America’s first and most prolific science writers, striding
onto the scene. His blue eyes are brilliant
and his hair prematurely gray.
In 1919 he scolded the New York Times about the proper usage of
the word “blimp”:
The
R-34 is a rigid dirigible of the Zeppelin type. It has very little in common
with the “blimp.”
Really, how could he help but correct
the mistakes that assaulted him at every turn?
Not only was he bright and analytical.
He also held strong opinions about nearly everything:
The
existence of canals on Mars,
Psychopathic laboratories in prisons,
the patent rights of inventors who worked
for large corporations . . .
Waldemar Bernhard Kaempffert
was born ambitious in New York City in 1877, the son of a German immigrant
father and a Russian-German mother. He
received honors and awards all through his years in public school on the Upper
West Side.
Soon after graduating from City
College in 1897, Waldemar joined Scientific
American as an assistant editor.
This gave him quite a perch, not to mention prestige. He went on to earn an LL.B. from NYU while
continuing at the magazine. In 1905 he
published his first major article, “The Protective Mimicry of Insects,” in Booklovers Magazine.
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| Illustration from Kaempffert's article about insects |
Then he was off and running, covering
carbon and Tungsten light, weather forecasting, alternative uses for pneumatic
tubes – everything new that emerged through the scientific method or from someone’s
crazy imagination.
For Waldemar had arrived at
his profession at just at the right moment.
Radioactivity was revealed in 1895.
That led to the discovery of atomic particles. The microscope lit up ever more infinitesimal
lifeforms. And the First World War would
spur major advances in technology and medicine.
Waldemar was among the first Americans to grasp the extent to which
German scientists had outpaced the United States and England.
During the war, Waldemar left
Scientific American to become editor
of Popular Science Monthly, where he
stayed until the mid-twenties when he joined the New York Times. On the beat,
he covered the invention of television and the radiotelephone, and the first
transatlantic call between London and New York.
Waldemar would write thousands
of articles on scientific topics as well as several books.
He did have a break
from journalism. In 1928 he was called
to Chicago where the businessman and philanthropist, Julius Rosenwald, planned
to create a science museum inside the last remaining building of the 1893 World
Columbian Exposition. During a trip to
Munich in 1911, the multimillionaire had been deeply impressed by the Deutsches
Museum, which was -- still is -- the world's largest museum devoted to science and technology.
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| Museum of Science and Industry, 1930s |
In need of major repairs, the
exposition building was located in Jackson Park in the Hyde Park neighborhood
along Lake Michigan. Ultimately it would
be recast in limestone, thus keeping its Beaux Arts exterior.
Rosenwald charged Waldemar
with designing exhibitions and assembling the curatorial staff. The mission of the new museum – like the one
in Munich – would be to demonstrate how science and technology transform
culture and society.
By 1930, Waldemar’s wife
Carolyn, a concert pianist, had joined him in Chicago and the couple moved into
an apartment hotel just a few blocks from the museum. But something went wrong; not quite a scandal
but certain irregularities that led the board of directors to push Waldemar out. In 1931 he headed back east to
ask the Times editors to give him
back his job, and they agreed.
Carolyn died a few years
later.
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| In his later years |
Until his own death in 1956, Waldemar
remained busy writing several stories each week. In his obituary, the Times quoted Waldemar himself, who often
said that his function was “to make science so clear that the scientists could
understand it.”
A childless widower, Waldemar
bequeathed more than $25,000 to Memorial Hospital for cancer research.* He left $5,000 to Dr. Elizabeth Baker, a
social scientist at Columbia University who studied the effect of technology on
jobs. He left $2,500 to Marie Mossoba
Berlinghoff, his assistant of nearly 25 years.
The remainder went to a stage
actress named Sophie Wilds, who seems to have pursued a Bohemian life from her little brick house in Greenwich
Village.
*Now Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.
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