Trying to remember when and where I catched my fondness for numbers and formulas is almost impossoble. There doesn't seem to have been any period when I didn't get excited about the math thing, how nicely it fitted, how purely simple in essence it left opportunity to soo much interpretation and practical use.
The vaguer the start seems to be, the more precise I recall my math-encounters with Ronald Nuyts. To call him a mentor would do injustice since the word indicates some unbalanced power in the relation. Sure he knew already so much more then me, but he allowed me to surrpise him as well with new insights and suggestions. Most of the times we just compared notes, and found a soulmate to share our excitement and ambitions. In the period of my 16-22 he must 've had the age I'm at now...
He (and me) had quite a busy life, and being relocated both in different regions of the country made our contact somewhat impractical (gosh that word!). Loosy excuses to explain to myself why I only heard about his depression after his suicide.
The funeral service this weekend revived my memories, not in the least by current students and co-teachers of him evoking the image of the ultimate didactical wizz. Very much how I remember being teached by induction and excitement rather then by the book.
Plenty of reasons for feeling sad are fighting for the first place... not having kept the link live, missing the opportunity to correct that mistake, or failing to follow more of his example.# Posted by mpo at 01:23 PM | TrackBack