Dick Feynman—The Guy in the Office Down the Hall

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Abstract
When I think of Richard, I often recall a chilly afternoon in Altadena shortly after his marriage to the charming Gweneth. My late wife, Margaret, and I had returned in September 1960 from a year in Paris, London and East Africa; Richard had greeted me with the news that he was “catching up with me”—he too was to have an English wife and a small brown dog. The wedding soon took place, and it was a delightful occasion. We also met the dog (called Venus, I believe) and found that Richard was going overboard teaching her tricks (leading his mother, Lucille, with her dry wit, to wonder aloud what would become of a child if one came along). The Feynmans and we both bought houses in Altadena, and on the afternoon in question Margaret and I were visiting their place.

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