by Noah Kucij


[From the 1950-1951 diaries of a Michigan mathematics professor (name unknown), purchased at the White House Flea Market, Schenectady, NY, 2002.]

Burned papers and did other odd jobs in the morning.
Cut back the hydrangea. Lunched at home.

Dr. Parr preached an excellent sermon … Assignment to Austerity.

Started over again on hypergeometric, with new notation.

Got a light lunch at a theater — lunch that would best be forgotten.

I went to Research Club + heard Brauer's
talk on trouble with the infinite,
went home after the intermission
+ played Canasta.


Mr. Parr preached on "What Makes Life Worth While?"
to an audience not quite as good as last Sunday.

Burned papers + Helen
and I planted some rose
shoots that Mrs. Ward gave us.

Did a little work on hypergeometric.

Exchanged coats with Orbeck
and put my pipe + tobacco pouch in another man's
overcoat, but recovered them.
Helen and I heard lecture on Portugese cod
fishermen with very moving pictures
by an Australian, Alan Villiers.

Walked downtown, deposited check, straightened gasbill, + got some canvas gloves.
After walking around with lost boy turned him over to the police.

Worried about furnace noise, but I guess it is all right.


Got my good watch from Mr. Rust, got a new fawcet handle.
Played pool with Bateson, Carey and Wenrick.
Got a new idea on hypergeometric.

Jim Gault died last night.
Did a little computing.

Burned papers in the springlike morning.

Helen and I went to church,
there was a good audience.
Mr. Parr preached a good sermon
on the question "Does it matter."
We had dinner at McKenny Hall.
There had been a peculiar lurid
sky all day, quite dark but yellow
in the middle of the afternoon.


We had dinner at House of Good Food
+ started our naps about two.

Mr. Parr spoke of his visit to Mr. Douglass
+ said he was nearing the end. He preached on That Which Endures.

Burned papers + looked at bags + oiled motors.

Mourning doves have arrived.

A fawcet dripping 2 drops per second
takes 45 minutes to drip a quart.
I timed it in the basement.

Eclipse of moon, Helen + I
looked at it when half over.

Back to Top


Noah Kucij is from upstate New York. He lives and teaches in Akaike, a small town on Kyushu, Japan that will be wiped off the map next month when it merges with two other towns. But that's another story.

Where loss is found.

Copyright © 2009 LOST Magazine. All rights reserved.