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Here's a fascinating memoir by a chemist - a must read

indelibleface

indelibleface

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I found, through a chem blog that I read once in a while, a very fascinating memoir written by a chemist named Max Gergel, who founded some prominent chemical company. His memoir is filled with mischievous chemistry accidents, pranks, and generalized mishaps of the experimental and amateur type. It's a very fun read.

One bizarre incident that might be of some interest to ADD is his vivid account of accidentally poisoning himself (probably chronically - can you say brain damage?) with methyl iodide, a chemical that he was making tons of in his crappy lab; he apparently ran his own chemical supply and manufacturing house with a few others in little more than a glorified shack. Of course, this was many, many years ago when this sort of thing was considered normal (!) or something to that effect.

Here's an excerpt:

Dibble left and I hired George Llewellyn. We had a tremendous order
for methyl iodide. I made it by day, with George's help, and in the evening
Max Revelise and I worked on some articles for the Kirk-Othmer Encyclopedia
of Chemical Technology. The chapter on methyl iodide turned out to have
special significance.

I am a reader of the classics and during one particular evening I was
re-reading Thomas Hardy's The Return of the Native. Closing my eyes I
could see the sheep daubed with Diggory Venn's riddle, beautiful against
the Devon meadows. I opened my eyes and the color was still there. In a
panic I cut on all the lights. The room was alive with strange colors which
gradually paled. I was shaken. There was unearthly music. I took two
phenobarbitals and was unconscious, but this was no restful sleep but a
phantasmagoria of bad dream, color and sound. The next morning I woke
up to a full orchestra. The music was pleasant but it came from within and
could not be cut off. That very day I was supposed to sail in Charleston
with Dr. George Smith. The trip down to the sea was hectic and I rigged
the boat to a celestial accompanyment. I told George about this. He was
disturbed and could offer no explanation.

I did not go to the doctor, not just then. I was sure that Monday would
find me symptom free, and sure enough the music died away early in the
morning. I hurried to the plant where we were racing the production of methyl
iodide, always troublesome in hot weather. Standing on a little stool to
observe the temperature of a distillation in number 1 column, the upper half
of the room gradually turned white, then vision faded and I saw only the
blank screen of a theatre. I gave a harried yell and my grandfather, Mr.
Revelise, came immediately. He did not know what had happened but helped
me to a chair and got my mother and Jules and they drove me to see Dr.
Alion. On the ride partial vision returned but everything was double and
blurred at the periphera. Alion told me that I was 12 pounds lighter and
observed that I could not stand alone.

We had friends coming in that evening, Al and Dot Rosenburg, and I
told CIive to call them and tell them I was not well. They insisted on coming
anyhow. Al was in charge of the steroid lab at Georgia Medical University.
I had taken a bath and was attempting to read the afternoon newspaper. The
double vision made this difficult. I performed for the visitors a number of
experiments with myself as actor. I could not stand erect, could not walk in a
straight line nor negotiate a corner. My voice was fuzzy and I had trouble
making myself understood. I could not write my name. On top of this I had
no memory from one minute to the next.
Click to expand...

Here's the link to the memoir in PDF format:
"Excuse Me Sir, Would You Like to Buy a Kilo of Isopropyl Bromide?"
 
eleusis' memoir after he got busted (can be found on teh rhodium archive on erowid) is another good read imo.
 
I have met and had a couple of dinners with Max Gergel about 20 years ago. He was a unique character, and he was full of hilarious stories about his experiences in chemistry. As a student his professor asked him to make some butanethiol (essentially skunk scent). Apparently the professor forgot to say how much, so he proceeded to make a kilogram. The smell caused the chemistry department to evacuate the building. I think that he developed the reaction to make alkyl bromides from alcohols with NaBr and sulfuric acid. He founded a company called Columbia Organic Chemicals in Columbia, South Carolina. He started doing the work in a shack in the woods. Now days, he would be raided as a meth cook.
 
Reminds me of the Nobel lecture of Karry Mullis:

At Dreher High School, we were allowed free, unsupervised access to the chemistry lab. We spent many an afternoon there tinkering. No one got hurt and no lawsuits resulted. They wouldn't let us in there now. Today, we would be thought of as a menace to society. If I'm not mistaken, Alfred Nobel for a time was not allowed to practice his black art on Swedish soil. Sweden, of course, was then and still is a bit ahead of the United States in these matters.

I never tired of tinkering in labs. During the summer breaks from Georgia Tech, Al Montgomery and I built an organic synthesis lab in an old chicken house on the edge of town where we made research chemicals to sell. Most of them were noxious or either explosive. No one else wanted to make them, somebody wanted them, and so their production became our domain. We suffered no boredom and no boss. We made enough money to buy new equipment. Max Gergel, who ran Columbia Organic Chemicals Company, and who was an unusually nice man, encouraged us and bought most of our products, which he resold. There were no government regulators to stifle our fledgling efforts, and it was a golden age, but we didn't notice it. We learned a lot of organic chemistry.
Click to expand...

- ender
 
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