I grew up in Greece, a suburb of Rochester, New York where Kodak Park and its research labs were located. Aliens would have spotted the labs in 1965 as the one place in the northeast still lit up during the great blackout.

Researchers bought nearby for great housing values and short commutes. My high school was typical working class weak except for an exceptional science program, to support the many "faculty brats" like myself. Half my friends had parents working in the research labs. One day in the 1960's I saw my first computer, sized like a ship's bridge where I played a primitive computer game, two dots orbiting a sun.

My Dad devised the "Bayer filter" for recording color in digital cameras. His best friend played a similar role in video. Long before the internet, the deepest facts about the world came home to me as tales told to my Dad by colleagues in the labs.

My Dad's first experience with a loop was punched cards of a different color, put them back in the hopper and make a mark on a blackboard. These stories prepared me for the inevitability of computerizing my branch of mathematics.

Still, reading this account, I'm surprised so much so soon.