|Vol. LXIX, No. 10|
|Bill Branson Jane E. Shure Dr. Yasmine Belkaid McLellan Receives First Joint NIDA-NIAAA Lifetime Science Award|
‘I LIKE TO PLAY’
Here are 10 things you didn’t know—call them snapshots—about Bill Branson, the longtime NIH photographer who retired Apr. 29, but who, along with his brother and fellow photographer Ernie, made “Call the Bransons” as reliable a professional shorthand as “Make a Xerox copy” or “Google it.”
Wait. Was that 11 items? The snapshots should be generous—together they sketch a biography testifying to resilience, adaptability and adventure that will likely beggar Branson’s post-retirement gig: assembling, at the request of the Office of Intramural Research, the vast archive of photos he took at NIH from January 1984 until the present. He has been given an office in the Cloister to tackle this task, as the Office of NIH History’s emeritus photographer.
“They told me I can be as busy as I like,” said Branson, who, in reviewing his life, realized, “I’ve had kind of this Forrest Gump mentality. [Gump] went to get the mail and just kept running.”
There may be no better way to describe Bill Branson than as an ambassador whose good-nature and talent won him the respect not only of NIH leadership and the many IC and NIH directors whom he served, but also a worldwide cast of friends with whom he still plans adventures.
Topping the latter list is completion of the 300-mile Catamount Ski Trail in Vermont, only half of which he has finished. “I want to be an end-to-ender,” he said. “There’s only about 80 of us.”
“I always knew Bill was amazing, and whenever he passed me on Jones Bridge Rd. on the way to work, I knew he must not be new at biking,” said NIH director Dr. Francis Collins. “But I had no idea of his checkered past. Talk about a non-linear pathway! But Bill has brought all of those experiences to his work at NIH and we are the better for it. Nobody had to say ‘cheese’ when Bill was taking the pictures. His skill and happy demeanor just made you smile.”
“Bill is as much a part of NIH as any person or structure on campus,” said NIAID director Dr. Anthony Fauci. “It is hard to imagine this place without Bill running around and climbing up a ladder with his camera, telling us one of his silly jokes to get us to smile. He has documented almost everything that I have done over the past 4 decades, from being the photographer at my wedding 32 years ago to taking the annual picture of me with my laboratory. We will certainly miss him.”
Added NIA director Dr. Richard Hodes, “Bill Branson is an extraordinary person who both captured photographically and himself became an integral part of NIH, its mission and its history. Each of Bill’s pictures evokes not only the memory of those photographed, but of Bill himself as dynamic and delightful friend, behind the camera, on ladder, on foot or on bike. It is our great fortune that Bill’s lifelong adventures brought him to NIH for a memorable stay.”
Branson, who just turned 70, didn’t pick up a camera until well after college. After spending 13 months teaching middle school to the children of Yugoslav and Greek immigrants in Australia, and having no job to return to stateside, “I took my time coming home. I flew off to Singapore and bought a camera [an Olympus OM-1], then traveled to Malaysia” before embarking on the epic truck ride from Katmandu to London.
“I took some photos on that trip,” he recalls, “and still have some of the color slides.”
It was in London that he purchased a Dawes 10-speed bike, got a youth hostel card then pedaled north out of town—“It took forever to get out of London”—falling in with two Americans from Washington State who had been cycling around Europe. The three rode together throughout England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland.
In August 1975, after safely biking home from Dulles—a cop had pulled him over on the access road for doing 17 in a 65 mph zone and warned him not to get on the Beltway—Branson worked briefly for the Census Bureau before wanderlust struck him again.
A friend talked him into attending the 1976 Olympics in Montreal. They paid $300 for a VW bus, with the goal of visiting Alaska after the games.
Halfway across Canada, roughly north of Minnesota, the VW broke down. Branson found a replacement engine in a local junkyard and installed it himself; he was bound and determined to see the Canadian Rockies.
Once he reached Seattle, he became reacquainted with one of his bicycling pals from Europe, now working as a TV anchor. Branson stayed with him, sold the VW bus and got talked into flying to Barrow for a job. That’s where health and photography finally married.
Branson worked by night as a janitor in an Eskimo school, and then, because he had been a phys ed/health major at Mankato State, got a day job doing video documentation of the realities of rural health care for the North Slope Borough department of health & social services, which serves an area the size of Utah. The video gig paid $100 a day, enough for Branson to hire a high school student to assist him.
“That turned out really well,” he recalls. “I also did still photography for brochures and pamphlets.”
The school where he worked had a darkroom to which, as janitor, he had a key. He called Ernie, by then at SIU, “and he taught me over the phone how to process and print” film.
After 5 months in Barrow, a bare-knuckled whaling town, Bill was persuaded by Ernie to enroll in graduate school at Southern Illinois. “I don’t think I hesitated,” he recalls.
They converted their trailer’s bathroom and bedroom into a film processing laboratory and learned the trade together. Ernie graduated first and Bill stayed on for another year, finishing his MFA and working in the school’s botany department, where he had his own lab and a salary that paid tuition.
“I moved into a better trailer, too,” Bill laughs.
Ernie got hired at NIH, but it would be several years, and jobs, before Bill joined him. Bill worked at the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology and the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences, doing soup-to-nuts photography. “It was a sweatshop, but I learned a lot.”
In January 1984, Bill arrived at NIH as a photographer in the medical arts department, where he has remained, documenting presidential visits, major events, IC ceremonies, celebrities (for Bill Gates, he was given 20 seconds) and, for 32 years, weeklong Camp Fantastic assignments.
“What I take from my perspective is what a great place this really is,” he said. “There is such a variety of professions. People are really dedicated to their jobs here. I have yet to see anyone goofing off, everyone’s crankin’.”
He continued, “I have a great deal of respect for the mission here, and for NIH leadership, which is why I stayed so long. I’ve always been made to feel like a team member by the IC directors. I feel like I’m part of their world, but at the same time I’m not under anyone’s thumb.” He estimates, “99.9 percent of my customers have been really great.”
He also treasures the variety of friendships he’s made. “I’ve got a really good network of friends here…It’s nice to hang out with smart people,” he said. “You kind of hope some of it rubs off on you.”
In retirement, Branson, who confesses, “I like to play,” will indulge interests in paddling canoes, kayaks and stand-up boards, mountain and road biking, hiking and perhaps fishing with Ernie.
He plans to remain in the Bethesda area, with its access to beaches and mountains and rivers, but acknowledges a yearning for the Pacific Northwest.
Never too keen on photography’s digital turn, he doesn’t expect to be taking a lot of photos in retirement. “To take good pictures, it’s not easy. I worked night and day at it for so long. And besides, everybody has a camera now, with smartphones being so common.”
Jane E. Shure, 71, longtime NIH employee and founding communications director at the National Institute on Aging, passed away in Lexington, Mass., on Apr. 8 of cancer. She will be remembered by her colleagues and the NIH community as an innovator, visionary and mentor.
Shure began her career at NIH in 1967 as an information intern, shortly after graduation from American University with a degree in English literature. She subsequently worked at NIAID as a public information specialist and served as director of the Office of Public Affairs at NICHD. After NIA was formed in 1974, she came on board as its first director of the Office of Communications and Public Liaison.
“Improving public health is really the bottom line for research,” Shure commented in NIA’s 2001 Portfolio for Progress. “Sharing what we have learned, with clinicians and with the public, is an important part of that effort.”
At NIH, Shure earned a reputation for developing innovative communication programs for the public; she won numerous awards for her promotional campaigns, including an Emmy. In 1998, she oversaw the start of NIA’s national outreach for keeping fit after 50, with astronaut and Sen. John Glenn and other federal agency partners. From there, NIA built a public health campaign, now known as Go4Life, based on Shure’s initial vision.
“Jane was an exceptional person, who combined goodness of heart, strength of purpose and a remarkable gift for communicating facts in a way that people could understand,” said NIA director Dr. Richard Hodes. “Jane was a critical part of the National Institute on Aging and its mission to improve health and quality of life as we age. Some of the research carried out to this end focuses on complex molecular pathways, some on specific diseases and some on behaviors and the social fabric of our lives. Jane was remarkably able to understand how to tell these stories in a way that reached people…All of us are better for Jane’s gifts and we miss her.”
Shure retired from NIH in 2004. She then joined the American Chemical Society, where she served as director of communications until her retirement in 2008.
Always active, she pursued wide-ranging interests after retirement, including glass collecting, theater, travel, baseball and service to numerous nonprofits. Shure is survived by her daughter, son, son-in-law, grandson, a legion of close friends and cousins and current and former NIH colleagues.
NIAID’s Dr. Yasmine Belkaid is among 84 new members and 21 foreign associates elected to the National Academy of Sciences in recognition of their distinguished and continuing achievements in original research.
Belkaid is chief of the mucosal immunity section in the Laboratory of Parasitic Diseases.
Those elected May 2 bring the total number of active members to 2,290 and the total number of foreign associates to 475. Foreign associates are nonvoting members of the academy, with citizenship outside the United States.
The National Academy of Sciences is a private, nonprofit institution that was established under a congressional charter signed by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. It recognizes achievement in science by election to membership, and—with the National Academy of Engineering and the National Academy of Medicine—provides science, engineering and health policy advice to the federal government and other organizations.
NIDA and NIAAA directors Drs. Nora
Volkow and George Koob (r) present
the first jointly sponsored NIDA-NIAAA
Lifetime Science Award to Dr.
A. Thomas McLellan (c) at the Joint
National Advisory Council for the
Collaborative Research on Addiction at
NIH meeting on May 3. This first-time
award was presented to McLellan for
his outstanding contributions to the
field of drug and alcohol research.
McLellan is the founder and board
chair for the Treatment Research
Institute in Philadelphia and a longstanding
leader in the field.