My relationship with Pete began as that of a student and his professor. Forty-two years ago, as an incoming MIT graduate student, I was mailed the Parsons Lab faculty research blurbs. For me, Prof. Eagleson’s write-up stood out from the rest. He wrote in terms of “fluxes” of “mass, energy, and momentum”—not the kind of language I had heard in my undergraduate hydrology courses at another school. He was striving and succeeding, with physical and mathematical rigor, to distill the essence of individual processes into kernels of understanding, which he then combined into a unified picture of the water balance. I was fascinated, and I was sucked in. It was intriguing to see dimensionless combinations of variables in hydrology, just like I had seen back in undergraduate fluid mechanics. I wanted to be part of this new hydrology, and Pete ended up as my research advisor.
Pete always had an encouraging word for me, but I got deeper insight into his graciousness soon after I received my doctorate. He wrote a letter to my father and mother, who later shared it with me. I still have that letter today. Pete wrote things that my parents had never said to me on their own, but that, through him, they were finally able to say.
Pete’s advocacy was invaluable during my early career. His faith in me as a youngster, which I really had not earned, set me on my way down a very rewarding path in science, first in academia, and then in government service. I owe much of my enjoyment of my career to Pete.
When I think of the brief visits to Pete and Bev that I’ve had the pleasure to make over the years, I see their smiles, feel the warmth of their home, hear the soothing trickles of their little fountain, and enjoy the embrace of their hospitality. These are very fond memories.
Pete’s intellect and humanity have left deep impressions on me. His way of thinking about hydrology was formative for me, and his grace inspires me to strive to be supportive of scientists who are just starting out on journeys of their own.