The seemingly tireless Edwards became UGA’s youngest academic dean at age 42. When he assumed the deanship of the Graduate School in June, 1972, he tackled the job with the same analytical ferocity that he brought to the lab. Edwards was determined to learn the names of all 1,100 UGA staff and faculty, as well as the names of all his students and which departments they belonged to. “And I could talk about their work,” Edwards added with a pleased grin. He was proud of the fact that he spent time actively recruiting minority graduate students from traditionally black colleges throughout the Southeast. Edwards also decided he would somehow devote time each week to the laboratory. Meanwhile, he challenged prevailing notions about post-doctoral research and went about eliminating redundant programs across campus. He spoke out about policies and funding practices that worried him; he occasionally stepped on toes, too, but never with intended harm. After seven years of administrative work as a dean, Edwards realized he missed the sheer freedom of the classroom and research. Edwards returned to both, as well as his international work and studies. In ensuing years, Edwards journeyed back twice to Denmark as a visiting professor at the Danish Agricultural and Veterinary Research council. He did additional work at Cambridge. By 1988, Edwards was named a distinguished professor at UGA. Four years later, the grandson of Winston Churchill, Nicholas Soames, presented Edwards with a research award in the British House of Commons. The British government recognized Edwards’ work in poultry research, which identified cause and prevention of leg abnormalities. However, Edwards seemed proud-
est of the fact that his students were now doing important work of their own. He understood the exhilaration of pursuing an idea. “I just enjoy working,” he said only 18 months ago, “and when I left administration, I was glad to go back to the department. I had some offers in research companies. But I didn’t want to move to New York. I kept on working here.” He continued basic research, although his major thrust was in nutritional science. He kept close to former students and their developing projects. His seminal work in the poultry sciences so many years earlier still held true, and Edwards was still considered an important figure. Throughout 51 years as a professor and scientist, Edwards refereed more than 170 journal articles, wrote two books, and held four patents. And on that stifling July afternoon in 2006, with the air conditioning straining to keep his office cool, Edwards gazed steadily over the mound of manila folders on his desktop, before thumping a bulging folder belonging to a promising graduate student named Anastassia Liem.
Norris worked right until his death at age 95. Edwards figured he would do the very same. “I am just doing what I want to do,” he said reasonably. Retirement still held no appeal whatever. He would keep his eye upon the next intriguing problem, the next fascinating project, and share time with the graduate students and professor friends he deeply enjoyed. Edwards joked about his retired colleagues, whom he met for regular lunches. They were too busy to talk, Edwards fussed. And although it surely appeared he might one day surpass his old mentor’s longevity, appearances deceived. Hardy Edwards was unwell. He had already suffered a few heart attacks. “I’m not going to live all that much longer,” he confided reluctantly. “I look fine, but…” His voice was unsentimental and his eyes unclouded. His posture was perfectly straight against his university-issue chair. “I just enjoy working,” Edwards repeated defiantly. And so he did, right up until the very end of his amazing life. Hardy M. Edwards, Jr., Alumni
Throughout 51 years as a professor and scientist, Edwards refereed more than 170 journal articles, wrote two books, and held four patents. Together, Edwards and Liem were working on a statistical model. He enjoyed mentoring her and had recently written a paper with Liem and another student. The basement office Edwards kept on campus was remarkably uncluttered after 50 continuous years of research. Leaning back in his chair, Edwards said he was still patterning his life after his old mentor, Leo Chandler Norris, founder of Cornell’s nutrition program.
Foundation distinguished professor of poultry science and animal nutrition, died on December 25, 2007. At 78, Edwards was still actively employed. In death notices, he was profiled as UGA’s longest-serving professor. That point, especially, would have pleased Edwards immensely. G
Graduate School Magazine
SUMMER 2008
31