From Stones to Stars

Reinventing Retirement with Paul Knauth

Emeritus Voices is pleased to welcome Paul Knauth back to its pages, this time as the subject of its Reinventing Retirement series. Among the happier hours of our overlapping department chair terms were those sharing our affection for Wagner and discussing our chances of winning the Bayreuth Wagner Festival ticket lottery (he had played the game longer and smarter and has been twice; I have not at all.) Paul’s love of great music (he hastens with the caveat that he is not himself a trained musician) is equally matched by his love for science in general, geology in particular, and astronomy. Paul earned his BA and PhD from the University of Chicago and Cal Tech, respectively, and came to ASU as Associate Professor in 1979 from Louisiana State University. Prolific in publications and graduate degrees directed, he has also won several “Best Teacher” awards, including “Best Field Trip.” Paul’s research and teaching interests span almost the whole of terrestrial geology, with an emphasis on geochemistry and geo-isotope analysis. He has also been an active researcher in planetary geological issues beyond Earth. He still pursues one of his favorite activities: guiding geological excursions into the wilder, rockier regions of North America. Paul Knauth has been Professor Emeritus at ASU since 2016. He lives in Gilbert, Arizona with his wife Nancy and several telescopes. R. Jacob

Emeritus Voices: Thank you, Paul, for letting us have a glimpse inside your retirement. Anyone who is familiar with you or follows you on social media knows that you are a man of many interests, any one of which would make for a full retirement. Had you planned on your principal retirement activities beforehand?

Paul Knauth: Never thought about it but realized it might be a great time to plunge more deeply into other things I love to do and think about. I loved my job at ASU and looked forward to going in every day. However, when I retired, I unexpectedly felt like I had awakened from a coma. These are the best years of my life.

EV: Before we get to the other things, let’s focus on your discipline of Geology. Did you continue work in your field?

PK: Yes, but no formal teaching, grant writing, or writing technical papers for refereed journals. I work part of every day on a monster book project that is allowing me to pull together everything I know and everything I am still learning regarding the forensic nature of science and what it all means. It does look like I may get roped into being co-author of another technical paper with a colleague I really respect. We have unpublished data, and the colleague has agreed to do the heavy lifting. I think.

EV: So, your book is intended for the non-specialist. What are the main ideas you want to lay out?

PK: Ha! It is weird. I had an emotionally overwhelming experience one night out observing the core of the Milky Way Galaxy with my giant 25” reflecting telescope. I felt like I had been to the summit of amateur astronomy—maybe even of human existence. On the drive home I envisioned a book that would be written in the similitude of a scientific Pilgrim’s Progress. It would involve an odyssey going from the east end of the Grand Canyon all the way to and across the Mojave Desert to Death Valley. Then up the entire length of that region the size of Connecticut and out the northwest end to the crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Yosemite National Park. I had already done the journey in many segments as part of teaching and research over the years and experienced many emotional summits. So, as the journey progresses, I relate the grand themes of geology and the history of life as expressed in these places with a clarity and magnificence like nowhere else. I vent my prejudices about how science works, what it all means, its triumphs and failures, and how the grand themes have affected the collective human psyche. It is richly illustrated with photos from the thousands I have taken in those places. It climaxes on a mountain peak in the Sierras with the Milky Way slowly appearing in the deepening twilight. It thus ends on how it begins. Alas, it will require three volumes—only the one involving the Grand Canyon is almost done. I’m racing the clock.

EV: I suppose it makes sense for a geologist to have an interest in astronomy as well. Has this been a long-term affair?

PK: I’ve been exploring the universe with a succession of ever larger telescopes since I was twelve. Only visual observing for its own sake; no photography or amateur science. I want photons from those distant objects to absorb in the cells of my retina. They become part of me. It is my way of connecting with the universe. I don’t care much for pho- tographs with all their exaggerated colors and blobs for stars instead of those piercing mathematical points I see visually. I’m not interested in black holes, dark matter, cosmology, or astrophysics except insofar as it might clarify what I am seeing. There is nothing so overwhelming as the universe as seen from a dark sky site with a large telescope. It is my heaven.

EV: I would like to hear about your telescope.

PK: These days I observe mostly with a 25” reflector.

EV: For our readers who are not familiar with the technology of telescopes, what is a “reflector”?

PK: A precisely curved mirror reflects a cone of light back toward a point. A small flat mirror redirects it off to one side where an eyepiece magnifier focuses an image onto an observer’s retina or some kind of detector. The bigger the mirror, the brighter the magnified object. All big telescopes nowadays are “reflectors.” The Hubble Space Telescope mirror is 94 inches. Mine is 25.

EV: Did you build it yourself?

PK: I assembled it from parts. It has an $8,000 mirror made in Colorado, a mounting made in Wisconsin, computer driven motors, controllers, mount modifications from Sierra Vista, Arizona and an on- board navigation computer made in Australia. Of course, I have modified it a great deal in my shop. Making the hoist systems and a huge ladder I can move around like a wheelbarrow required some difficult engineering. I also have an 1100 lb. 12.5” Newtonian reflector in its own trailer, also with a hoist system to take it out. That one is unsurpassed for high magnification views.

Anyway, I transport it with a trailer and assemble it in the field far away from city lights. It is a monster undertaking. Thought I couldn’t handle it beyond age 75, but now I’ve built a more elaborate hoist setup to reduce the physical effort. Seeing the universe with a 25” from a dark sky site is not a trivial undertaking.

EV: Where do you go to observe?

PK: At least 100 miles from Phoenix lights. Western desert in the cooler months, and mountains east of Globe when warmer. Occasionally I’ll go to just south of the Grand Canyon or to the North Rim. Summer observing is tough because you only get about 4 hours of truly dark night.

EV: What can you see from there with your telescope?

PK: Things you would not think could be seen with human eyes. Galaxies with their arms and peculiar shapes, no two the same. Sometimes clusters of galaxies as many as fifteen in the same view. Interacting galaxies where you can viscerally feel them tugging and distorting each other. Glowing clouds of gas in our own galaxy—some so large I literally drive around in them. Planetary nebula with their greenish halos, hazes, jets, filaments, and glows. Intricately shaped dark clouds and stringers silhouetted against background stars of the Milky Way. Star clusters which look like baskets of jewels. Star clusters so concentrated and dense there may be thousands merged into a glow. I can resolve most of them on a good night. Then there are comets, planets, glowing supernovae remnants—it goes on and on. I will often just sit in deepest night and stare upward with that big telescope silhouetted against a star-filled sky. Computer controlled motors hold it fixed in space while the Earth rotates under it. Deep thoughts then. Really deep.

EV: That sounds fabulous. I really envy you your viewing experiences. But I gather you don’t take photographs of what you observe.

PK: No, I don’t. I prefer just to look. Photographs don’t convey the same mystery and pleasure, and I am being totally self-indulgent here.

EV: Paul, speaking of indulgences, I know from our time together as cross-department colleagues in the Physics-Geology building that you have a deep love for music. Are you a musician?

PK: No, but I am a virtuoso when it comes to playing compact disks.

EV: At least you’re not into scratching vinyl. But to what or whom do you credit your love of music?

PK: I was walking past the open door of a dorm room after dinner while attending a 1961 NSF summer science institute for high school students at Texas A&M. Lawson Taitte (subsequently theater and music critic for the Dallas Morning News) was playing the last movement of the Beethoven 9th. I was blown away and asked if I could hear the whole thing on his portable record player instead of going to the evening session. I didn’t know music like that existed. It changed my life.

EV: What do you prefer listening to?

PK: I now have thousands of CDs of classical music of all types and actually still do scratch vinyl (in the traditional way) from time to time. I like pieces and performances that have great beauty, profundity, and power. Music I can get lost in—music that opens the gates of heaven. Beethoven, Bruckner, Brahms, Mahler, Wagner, Bach, Monteverdi, Mozart, Vaughn-Williams, Verdi, Dvorak…it goes on and on. Mein Gott, there is such great music out there! I listen all the time. I try to experience at least one major work in the dark every night. Been to the Wagner Festival in Bayreuth twice, but I actually prefer recordings where I can explore different interpretations in comfort. I have a great sound system in my study.

EV: Aside from these, your major interests, what else do you like to do for fun and relaxation?

PK: I have a large library and a packed Kindle; I read all the time. Reading with your morning brain is retirement glory. I had planned to systematically walk every isle in the ASU Libraries, but they are moving all the books out. Browsing on a computer file is not the same thing. I also have a small boat I can row, sail, or motor around Tempe Town Lake. I want to teach my grandkids how to sail, but I need to first learn how myself.

EV: Where do you live now?

PK: After 17 years in Tempe and 17 in Mesa, my wife Nancy and I now live in southeast Gilbert for the past 6 years. Love it out here.

EV: I presume you have room for your telescope and all else. Have you expanded your footprint?

PK: Enormously. Instead of downsizing, we bought a 3-year-old place on an acre in a very nice neighborhood. The back half was all dirt. Now it is a paradise with a giant RV-size garage, workshop, pool with jacuzzi, ramada, waterfall over a grotto, elevated observation decks for watching sunset and stars. My wife has many gardens, mostly flowers. Best years for sure.

EV: Are you still active in teaching about geology?

PK: I just recently ended my public outreach geology field trips. Did thirty-two public raft trips down the Grand Canyon. Ran public field excursions for the Death Valley Natural History Association until we suspended for COVID reasons. Nowadays, I do a lot of long geology posts on my FB page using photos from the thousands I took over the years. I’m pretty much done with public presentations but never say no to an astronomy club.

EV: How about family?

PK: My Wife and I are a year away from our 50th wedding anniversary. Two daughters, three grandchildren, and one great grandchild. I am happiest with family. It’s when I feel like I got washed ashore.

Now let’s do one of these where I ask you questions, Dick. Retirement for me has been self-indulgent; you are someone who really did reinvent retirement!

EV: Thank you for the invitation. But it will have to wait until I’m no longer editing this journal and someone else can judge the value of content.

And thank you as well, Paul, for allowing us a glimpse into your full, varied and fascinating retirement. From what I’ve seen, it would easily keep six professors emeritae fully occupied.