Memories

Our favorite 'howard stories'

I think it was in the fall, 1987. We students would go on Thursdays to MIT to taste Asian dishes and attend Prof. Chomsky's lectures. I was very grateful to Yasuo Ishii for the many generous rides! One day, Yasuo was driving and Howard rode together with us. When we got out of the car at a resting area, he was carrying around his shoulder bag "tightly". I wondered and asked, "Howard, why haven't you left the bag in the car? The car was to be locked while we were out." He answered, "It's because I have my students' papers in this bag." We got deeply impressed by his sense of teacher ethics and responsibility! If I remember correctly, he then continued to tell us a story about a doctoral student who happened to have a dissertation advisor at his old age. One day he gave a type-written dissertation draft to the advisor, who unfortunately misplaced it out! The poor Ph.D. candidate had to re-type his dissertation draft out of memory!! This time, he made three copies of it using carbon paper and submitted one copy to his advisor; he then carried his second copy in the trunk of his car, and he kept the third and last copy in the freezer of his refrigerator, probably because it would be the last space to burn even if his place would be on fire! The car got full of "happy noises"!!!  - From Ahn Gyemyong (Sung-Ho)

I learned about Howard's legendary teaching skills through Esther Torrego, who I had interviewed for the radio I worked for while in college in Basqueland, in one of her visits to my hometown. Esther basically told me that if I wanted to learn some syntax, I had to find a way to work with this Lasnik icon - that I had no chance elsewhere. She offered to put me in touch with him in Cambridge, so I showed up with the clothes on my back. Howard said to meet him "in Chomsky's class". I thought I'd misunderstood, but not only was that class open to any hitch-hikers like myself, in fact he'd been going there every Thursday since he took the first class, over a decade prior. Over lunch in Legal Seafood, I asked the obvious question about this loyalty. Howard asked back: "How many times have you listened to Beethoven's 9th?" I could leave the memory at that, but I will add a further twist. I am sure Howard was instrumental in giving this nobody a chance to study the discipline he revered, and certainly he taught me the craft with patience and understanding (of the discipline and his strangest student). Eventually he found a way to send me places, including jobs and all that, as he did for his mentees no matter how unusual. As the baseball nut that he is, he often compared us to his Brooklyn Dodgers. Certainly, I had been a draft dodger at least, which linguistics helped me achieve in ways I don't care to remember: not a bad alternative to flipping burgers when you can't return to your country for seven years! In those and even harsher moments, Howard was nothing short of a dear friend, aside from my intellectual father.   - From Juan Uriagereka

I spoke with Howard today, and he told me that students and colleagues are  submitting “Howard” stories for the party. Of course, I have a lot of stories, most of which I probably shouldn’t share. But I will share one story that is close to my heart, and demonstrates that Howard was a born teacher. I was his first student.

Howard is 5+ years older than I am. The summer that I was 3, Howard turned 9. He decided to teach me how to read and write. I was super excited, because I wanted to be just like him and do all of the things that he could do. Our parents were not educated, and it would never have occurred to them to teach me how to read and write. Howard was undaunted, and he succeeded quite quickly, because he has always been a fantastic teacher. Once I knew how to read, I really wanted my own library card, so Howard took me on the bus (it was a different era--- and we didn’t have a car) to the Carnegie Library. You had to be able to write your name to get a library card. I could do that, thanks to Howard. But I was very small for my age, and not visible over the low desk in the childrens’ library. Howard told the childrens’ librarian that his little sister wanted a library card. She thought that Howard’s little sister was imaginary—because I was too short for her to see me! Howard was indignant. Of course his little sister was real!  He picked me up and plunked me down on the librarian’s desk, where I proceed to write my name. I got my library card that day, and took out 10 books (the max). And all because of Howard!  - From Marlee, Howard's sister

My experiences with Howard have bridged two disciplines where I might not have imagined finding overlap: Scottish Country Dancing and linguistics. Howard was my tutor for my first examination to become a certificated Royal Scottish Country Dance Society teacher. His clarity of information and coaching supported me in passing that exam. Since that time, Dance has become an even more significant academic and professional pursuit for me. In a recent writing project, I found it was important to carefully consider and analyze dance terminology. I struggled to find ways to describe the effects the words have as we form them in the mouth and how this relates the performance and feeling of the movements. Howard graciously agreed to review my writing and provide feedback. It's incredible I knew just the right person to help! Can't thank you enough, Howard!  - From Jen Schoonover

It is an honor and a pleasure to express my admiration and respect for my teacher and friend Howard Lasnik. Howard’s classes were always a model of clarity, intellectual excellence, and logical rigor.  But not only this! Howard’s love for the study of language and his sheer joy in teaching and sharing his knowledge was truly inspiring.  I wish him much success and happiness in his retirement.  - From Robyne Tiedeman

Isolating one anecdote or fond memory among so many is just too hard. Here are just a few, embedded in gratitude:
1. Thanks for making sure we had at least one copy of LSLT in the graduate student lounge, while fixing the wobbly coffee table we had there with the same enthusiasm you fixed problematic statements in chapter 4 of The Minimalist Program.
2. Thanks for your unique ability to always return to the foundational issue of language acquisition in the middle of all the derivations on the black board, reminding us of the stakes: at the end of the day, it’ all in service of psychology, and ultimately biology. Thanks for making that logic clear (no stamp in the margins needed here)
3. Thanks for never failing to emphasize in class that we can only forge ahead (and not behind)
4. Thanks for teaching us how Noam can be wrong, but importantly, almost always wrong in interesting ways. It seems it’s too easy for many to forget that last bit.
5. Thanks for giving me the best compliment ever: “that idea you had … it was so strange, it’s something Juan Uriagereka would come up with” (it was a compliment, right?)
6. Thanks for putting up with so many (lame) excuses regarding (very) late, hastily written assignments. I really tried every trick I could think of (remember that time I blamed a logic book I needed to finish reading?). But you never gave up on me. I still appreciate the fact you waited almost a full semester (my first at UConn) before telling me to start typing my assignments on the laptop you helped me buy when I arrived in Storrs. I thought that hand-written assignments on oddly-sized sheets of paper would be the last straw for you (it must have been so painful to read, and so difficult to carry back to Arlington — it was designed not to fit in any folder you had). I was wrong. You always found a way to bring me back on track.
7. I know there are still some assignments I should have re-submitted long ago. I am told that when very important people leave office, they can grant a pardon or two. Retirement looks like the perfect opportunity. Thanks … in advance.
- From Cedric Boeckx

The uploaded photos were taken when Howard visited Tohoku in 1998. We were fortunate and deeply honored that we could invite him here. Above all, I feel so privileged to be one of his students and am grateful to him for many things he taught me directly and indirectly. Howard has been and will continue to be the model scholar and teacher I aspire to be. I wish him happy retirement!  - From Daiko Takahashi

With great relish, Howard told me what he called a linguist's joke.
Professor: "In Latin languages, when you add negatives, it just makes the statement more strongly negative, but in English, each time you add a negative it inverts the meaning: 'I don't want not to go' means I want to go. So, a double negative in English is a positive, however, a double positive isn't a negative. There are no exceptions."
Student in back of class, "Yeah, sure. " - From Ellie Briscoe

Hello Howard, we are sorry we cannot be there to celebrate the start of this new adventure with you. The invitation to this event has triggered a number of evenings worth of reflection on our interactions with you (all positive). First and foremost is the fact that you were a force for calm and inspiration during our tenure as students at MIT. Just having you around building 20 was reassuring for anxious PhD candidates. It is particularly worth mentioning that getting into your tiny black calendar, thus guaranteeing an appointment with you, was a badge of honour. Your advice and counsel was always valuable but getting into that little black calendar was the icing on the cake. Kelly recalls setting up Bingo cards for Chomsky’s Thursday classes, with the names of those most likely to ask questions. You had to get five in a row to win, and then shout Bingo; the names changed to reflect visitors passing through but Kelly always put you as the free spot. In addition to linguistics, we also associate you with baseball. When you visited us in Tucson and attended the training camp, we discovered that true baseball fans are statisticians.
Thanks for several decades of memories and fruitful conversations. - From Doug Saddy and Kelly Sloan

When I first arrived in Storrs, I made my way to my new intellectual home, the department of linguistics. Judy, the departmental secretary, called in Howard to give me a proper welcome, which he did. Howard said: `So you do exist?!' Superficially, this was just a reaction to the fact that the agency funding my stay in Storrs had prevented all direct communication between the department and me. But really, and though I wasn't particularly prone to existential doubts, this was a cunning ploy to draw me into Howard's world of strange questions and wonderful answers: Do mutually embedded Ph.D. theses (on negation!) exist? (Yes, but they are infinitely long.) Does unrecoverable deletion exist? (No, but one can still write succinct papers about it.) What about languages? Constructions? Suitable parts for the computer in my dorm room? ... The questions stayed with me and I can now affirm with a certain degree of certainty: Howard, you, too, do exist! - From Klaus Abels

It is difficult to express in a few lines all that Howard has meant to me and the impact he has had on my career as a linguist.
I feel enormously lucky to have been one of Howard’s students and to have had him as my PhD supervisor.
I have never forgotten his classes, and how fun and interesting they were. Not only did he walk us through the intricacies of linguistics and help us understand the beauty of language, but he also taught us scientific rigor and a way to approach linguistic analysis that has marked us deeply and that is recognizable in the work of his students.
Thank you very much, Howard, for your passion for linguistics, which you have passed on to us, for your devotion to your students, for the intellectual respect shown to us and for the freedom to develop and pursue our own ideas.
Thanks also for your generosity with your ideas, as well as for the generosity with your time (your office was always open and we were always welcome to discuss our latest ideas with you).
Thanks also for the many rides back and forth to Boston, when we still didn’t have a car. And many thanks to Bobby and you for your kindness with all of us, and for welcoming us to home for the tree trimming party.
We hope you can both visit us again very soon in the Basque Country!
- From Myriam Uribe-Etxebarria

Howard's enthusiasm to linguistics, syntax in particular, was contagious. His seminars always made me want to find out more of whatever was discussed in class and beyond--my thesis clearly shows this. Congratulations on your retirement, Howard! - From Kazuko Yatsushiro

I stand in debt to Howard Lasnik for so many reasons. The combination of professional knowledge and personal decency that characterize Howard has been invaluable to me, and I want to thank him for it all. Gracias Howard. - From Esther Torrego

The McLasnik Tartan

Howard is not only a renowned linguist, but a highly regarded Scottish Country Dance teacher, examiner, and musician. I have had the privilege of knowing and working with Howard in the Scottish dance world for many decades. Howard celebrates Scottish affiliation along with his Jewish heritage with a unique kilt made from material he and Roberta found at a yard sale. While not technically a true tartan, the lovely brown-hued kilt has become well known among our dance circles. With Howard’s characteristic wit, he refers to it as the McLasnik tartan.

Some years ago, Howard was giving the final exam to a group of Scottish dance teacher certificate candidates, a rigorous process for which Howard is highly regarded. I was the musician playing for Howard’s exam. After the six-hour exam, many of us retired to a nearby pub to enjoy a pint, many of us wearing kilts. During our revelry, a somewhat inebriated gentleman approached us. He staggered a bit and proclaimed his interest in our kilts as well as his own expertise in Scottish tartans (the fabric from which the kilts are made). “Thatsh really great that you all wear your kiltsh when you go (hiccup) drinking. I really know my tartansh, you know (hiccup)…”

One of our colleagues, a tall Scotsman, stood up and said, “you know your tartans, do ye? What tartan am I wearin’ then?” The gentleman peered at the kilt and pronounced “thatsh Andershon Old Weave.” “You’re right!” Howard exclaimed!

I stood and offered a similar challenge. The gentleman came in for a closer look, thought for a moment, then said “oh, thatsh MacRae Hunting (hiccup) Ancient!” “You’re right!” Howard exclaimed!

Another of our group stood and asked the same. The gentleman struggled for a moment, and finally announced “Black Watch Dressh.” “You’re right!” Howard exclaimed!

Aha, thought Howard: now for a real challenge. He stood and asked the gentleman from what tartan was his kilt made. The gentleman peered at Howard’s kilt, came in to count the threads, appeared confused, took another look, then exclaimed “thatsh no tartan! That’sh a freakin’ tablecloth!”

“You’re right!” Howard exclaimed!

- From Tom Pixton

My most lasting memory of Howard is probably the semester we spent co-teaching Grad Syntax I. This course was, for years & years, Howard's "baby", but for one of those years, he ceded pedagogical control over half the course to someone who, he knew, disagreed with a large subset of his own views on the topics being discussed. This sounds trivial, and surely all academics would say that they'd be happy to do this in the abstract; but Howard actually *did* it, and that's something different entirely. I feel lucky to have been on the receiving end of this intellectual generosity.

As an unrelated coda: Howard was also PhD co-supervisor for Dongwoo Park, the first linguistics PhD student I ever (co-)supervised myself. That's another thing that I'll forever cherish. - From Omer Preminger