The Day the D-B Chemistry Lab Exploded

 

Mr. Dickerson demonstrating "chemistry."

It was a normal day, just like today, except that in the basement of what we now call “the old D-B,” the chemistry lab exploded.

It didn't make the newspaper in 1964 because no one was killed or maimed or even burned. I think our teacher Mr. Dickerson may have had a coughing jag after going back in to extinguish the fire.

Uh, I was part of the lab group that caused the Little Bang.

I was reminded of this little episode from my past after reading about the NYU organic chemistry professor whose contract wasn’t renewed after students complained that his course was too hard.

Chemistry has always been hard.

Witness that 1964 explosion.

My Chemistry teacher was Mr. Dickerson, who left for a job in industry the next year. I may have had something to do with that.

That class got off to a bad start.

Mr. Dickerson was calling the roll: “Charles Garner.” Charlie Garner, president of the band, cool guy and well-known wag, raised his hand.

“Call me Charlie. Charles is a butler’s name.”

Mr. Dickerson peered back at Charlie, to get a good look at this fellow, then replied. “My name is Charles.”

It was the only time Charlie Garner was ever speechless.

Charles Dickerson in the 1965 D-B yearbook

Chemistry was taught in the basement of the old D-B, in what was at the time a brand-new lab. Even though Mr. Dickerson taught Chemistry as a math class - we balanced a lot of equations - we still got time experimenting with chemicals.

My lab partners were Jimmy Sams and David Coleman, both of whom apparently got chemistry sets for Christmas when they were little because they were both lab whizzes.

I was good at handing them stuff. I don’t remember what we were making on the day in question but I think it involved hydrochloric acid because we had a quantity of the stuff left over from our experiment.

Because Jimmy and David were good chemists, we got through with our experiment early that day. It was a recipe for disaster: a fully equipped chemistry lab, lighted Bunsen burners and free time.

I don’t know who suggested it - I’d like to think it wasn’t me - but a decision was made. Since we had some spare time and we were already apron-ed up, why not make another compound, why not whip up a batch of hydrogen sulfide.

For the layman, hydrogen sulfide is that stuff that smells like rotten eggs.  It was simple for chemistry whizzes like Jimmy and Dave; I think they added a little powdered zinc sulfide to the hydrochloric acid (don’t hold me to this formula; I would become a math major in college), stirred, then heated the stuff over the Bunsen burner.

Everything was going just swell until Jimmy dropped the test tube in the sink. There was a clink, then a poof, followed by a bang, a billow of smoke and an overwhelming nauseous smell.

Rotten eggs.

According to an old Chemistry text I found, you can smell that stuff at 2 ppb - that’s two parts per billion, which isn’t much. I’m sure we had a couple of thousand parts per billion, just judging by the aroma. But it wasn’t the aroma that first got Mr. Dickerson’s attention. It was the clink and the bang and the smoke.

Using the safety training that all Chemistry teachers must be forced to undergo, he immediately cleared the lab. We all stood outside waiting till he figured out what had happened.

Of course three of us already knew what had happened. It was a good thirty minutes before he managed to clear the smoke and stench from the lab.

It took him about thirty seconds to figure out what had happened and where it happened. He didn’t yell. He just announced in his “My-name-is-Charles” voice that the three unnamed culprits should report to his room after we had eaten lunch so we could do a little extra work.

The punishment could have been much worse. It could have gone on our permanent record. Instead we got to do chemistry problems during lunch hour for the rest of the week. And I think there was a lot left in the week.

If that happened on a Monday and I think it did, we got to do chemistry problems for five lunch periods, until we had learned our lesson.

Jimmy Sams and David Coleman might think the lesson we learned that day was: Don’t drop test tubes full of liquids that smell like rotten eggs. The lesson I took with me was: I should have taken Typing instead of Chemistry.

I never took another Chemistry class. In college I took Physics. Which is a story for another day.