Nick D’man Fuller

Nick Fuller

On occasion, one’s grown children do something that make their parents take note and think, “maybe we did something right”. Such was the case last week when we got a call from our son.

Nick had been with his boss at a customer’s facility, an aircraft maintenance company, doing the “computer guru” stuff that he is so good at. The company obviously thought highly of Nick’s work, because when his boss left the room, he was approached. The company had decided to hire their own IT person and quit outsourcing. Nick was offered the job, which included a very lucrative salary and jaw-dropping benefits.

The experience was a far cry from his teenage years when he “thrilled” us on occasion with 10-inch spiked hair, a “fro” hairdo which was reminiscent of a hot air balloon, and his extreme determination to do off-road 4-wheeling in low-clearance 2-wheel drive sedans. It was even further from earlier memories of push karts and go karts, not to mention the trio of events of near electrocution, fingers in the garbage disposal, and an averted fall from a second story window which all occurred in a single day. No, this hardly seemed like the adolescent that I had to chase down years earlier in an open field next to a doctor’s office when a blood sample was pending.

After last week’s phone call, we were proud of our son’s accomplishments and success, and were happy for his new opportunity. We were very surprised a few days later when he texted and announced that he was declining the job offer, turning his back on the fat pay check, and staying with his old company. He chose to be loyal to a friend rather than jump ship. What parent wouldn’t be proud to have their offspring value principle and people over the almighty dollar?

Today, we proudly salute Nick on his 25th birthday, and thank heaven that he is our son.

My Mentors



ABL Team, Jim Snyder second from left.



“May I speak to Jim Snyder please?”  Last Tuesday, with the phone pressed to my ear, I patiently waited, expecting the receptionist to redirect my call. Instead, she hesitated, and then said simply, “Jim died.” 

What? I was shocked. How could that be? I hadn’t talked to him in nearly four years, but I always assumed he was just a phone call away.

Jim and I were introduced nearly 20 years ago when I gave an industry briefing at Wright Patterson Air Force Base. From his probing questions, it was clear he was head and shoulders above the rest of the audience. Eight months later he hired me and for the next two years took me under his wing, tutored me, and taught me what I thought I already knew. Ten years later we were reunited under the $3-billion Airborne Laser Program in a year-long research effort. Again, I was able to ride his coattails and tap his vast pool of knowledge.

This week’s shocking phone call was déjà vu. The same thing happened nearly 20 years ago. It was Tony Lefkow that taught me that “sputtering” was a manufacturing process and not a speech impediment. It was Tony’s tutelage that resulted in a leap-frog of the competition and the launch of my career as an optical coating “guru”. Tony had a remarkable career with stops at Battelle Columbus Laboratories, University of Wisconsin, and Northwestern University’s Industrial Research Laboratory. Again, I thought that he was just a phone call away, until he wasn’t.

I’m not waiting for post mortem to thank my old friend and colleague Bruce Reinbolt. During our twelve years together, Bruce liberally shared his knowledge and experience. He is one in our industry that actually studied optical coatings as part of his major, unlike so many of us that learned seat-of-the-pants on the job.

On April 20th I will stand before members of the Society of Vacuum Coaters and present a paper, “Monte Carlo Analysis of Random Thickness Errors in Triple Bandpass Coating Designs.” It will be an international audience with attendees from Europe, Asia, and North America. When I finish there will likely be polite applause. As I sit down I’ll have gratitude in my heart and silently give thanks to those who mentored me, who taught me my trade, and contributed to my career and success.