Encounters with the Elders: Dr. Leon Glover Speaks

Reprinted from Turns and Distances, a publication of the Officials Committee of the Pacific Association USA Track & Field, with permission of Bruce Colman and Dr. Leon Glover.

Encounters with the Elders: Dr. Leon Glover Speaks
By Bruce Colman

At a track meet, you will almost always find Leon Glover, Jr., next to the horizontal jumps runway, 20 meters back from the take-off board, with a clipboard on his lap, tending to a scientific instrument mounted on a tripod, recording every wind reading for every long-jump or triple-jump trial.

Aside from being Pacific Association’s doctor of the wind gauge, Leon is a rarity in the officiating world: the scion of an earlier generation of officials, and he was present at the creation of the whole wind-reading discipline. His father was recording wind readings as far back as the late 1940’s and helped develop some of the earliest instruments we use today.

He agreed to talk with Turns and Distances recently about his careers on and off the field of play, his outside interests…and family heritage. This got into some pretty deep sport history.

Leon has received PA officials’ Service, Crow, and Barbour awards in 1992, 2001, and 2013, respectively. On the real-world side, he was inducted into Raychem’s Paul Cook Technical Hall of Fame in 1992 and received Tyco Electronics’ Lifetime Achievement Award in 2007. He is a TE Technical Fellow as well.

BC: to start us off, please tell our readers three things about Leon Glover that they may not know?

LCG: I like and appreciate music in a number of ways. In early years I played clarinet in both marching and concert bands. That included playing in Modesto’s Stanislaus County Boys Band, led by Professor Frank Mancini, who had played in Souza’s band. I also played with Notre Dame’s marching band in a parade in Chicago during under-grad days. I’m a long time Jazz fan, especially Dixieland, Swing, especially Benny Goodman, and early Modern. At the same time I listen to and appreciate classical concerts and even some opera.

I also enjoy older hot rods and sports cars. I had a ’34 Ford (with a newer engine), an early Corvette, and a Porsche Speedster and still have a ’59 Porsche Super Coupe.

I’ve loved firecrackers and fireworks from as early as I could light one with a match. That evolved to crewing for a colleague and friend who has a professional license. Eight to ten of us put up professional shows for July 4th and special occasions like the 100th anniversary of the San Mateo Country Club. My first job with the crew was for Raychem’s Billion Dollar day at Menlo Park.

BC: You are widely and affectionately called “Doctor Glover.” Where did you earn your PhD, and what was your thesis subject?

LCG: I graduated from Modesto High in 1953, having done college prep and played football and baseball.
I was accepted at both Notre Dame and Stanford but chose to go back to Notre Dame. I graduated from Notre Dame in 1957 with a B.S. in Chemistry. I was accepted to grad school at Stanford, and was there from Fall ’57 to Spring ’62. My PhD was in Organic Chemistry but had additional courses in Analytical Chem and Polymer Chem.

My thesis, with Professor Harry Mosher, proved why primary and secondary peroxides weren’t commercially useful.

I guess I chose to be called “Dr. Glover” because I was proud of the work I did to earn it. Further, both my parents had PhDs--in Entomology, from Iowa State. My Dad was a professor at the University of New Hampshire when Shell hired him to be Associate Director of their new lab at Modesto. We pulled up stakes in New Hampshire in January 1945 to come to Modesto. Our first Glovers came to New Hampshire from England in the 1730s.

Finally as the wind gauge is technical I felt that we—Dad and I--brought a scientific background to its use in Track and Field. The “Dr.” added to that.

BC: Wikipedia says your last employer, TE Connectivity, “designs and manufactures highly engineered solutions that connect and protect data and power. The company serves customers in more than 150 countries in a variety of industries including automotive, data communication systems, consumer electronics, telecommunications, aerospace, defense and marine, medical, energy and lighting.”

Quite a mouthful. What were your responsibilities at TE?

LCG: During my four Notre Dame summers I worked for Shell Development, then in Emeryville, doing analytical work. After receiving my PhD, I received a number of offers but chose to go to work at Shell Development, doing polymer synthesis. One year into the Shell job I married my wife, Dagmar, in 1963.

Two years into the Shell job rumors surfaced that Shell might move the whole operation to Houston. Serendipity had me back at Stanford for a seminar where I had a discussion with my former lab mate who’d gone to work at a start-up in Redwood City called Raychem. He suggested that they were hiring and why didn’t I stop by and talk. I was hired and joined as 25% of corporate research.

The name derived from Radiation Chemistry which they had first commercialized and had begun using to very efficiently cross link polymers at high speed at room temperature, providing wire and cable with improved properties and allowing the formation of heat shrink tubing and molded parts. Target companies were Boeing, Lockheed, Douglas and Grumman. When I joined Raychem its annual sales were $ 12 million, but it had already started operations in the UK, followed quickly by Belgium, Germany and France.

Locally Raychem expanded with new headquarters in Menlo Park in 1966-67, as growth really took off—on average, twenty five percent per year for the first 25 years, with a year or two at 40%. My early responsibilities were as a materials scientist in corporate research and development. I later managed the corporation’s analytical group and also did some formulation work on compounds for new, specialty products.

In 1980 Raychem’s president and founder decided to join the Menlo and UK Compounding plants into one global organization, of which I was asked to be the Technical Director. I was fortunate to be able to visit our four European operations four to six times per year for over 25 years to coordinate raw material and formulation technology across all divisions.

I held the position until shortly before Raychem was purchased by the infamous Dennis Koslowski of Tyco International. He put the Raychem unit with Amp, a connector company that he’d purchased just before, to form Tyco Electronics. This was August of 1999. Even though I was about to retire at 65 I stayed on to look after “my” company, its materials science technology and its successful way of meeting difficult customer product needs with specialty compounds, radiation processing, and high performance adhesives.

BC: What is your earliest memory of a track meet?

LCG: The California Relays at Modesto were started in 1942, notably with Dutch Warmerdam’s world record in the Pole Vault at 14 feet 7 3/4. It quickly became one of the top US invitational meets. We had arrived in Modesto in January 1945. I was at the 1947 meet and saw Mel Patton of USC run a world-record-tying 9.3 for 100 yards. I also saw in the high jump the technique transition from the old scissors to the newer western roll. The winner, Les Steers from Oregon, used the western roll.

Not all of the wind gauges Dr. Glover used were high tech instruments.

BC: You basically inherited the wind gauge franchise in Pacific Association from your father. Multi-generational officiating is a rare thing. Could you speak to your father’s career? Tell your colleagues how wind gauge practice and equipment has developed over the decades?

LCG: My first recollection of wind gauges and wind officiating was that 1947 meet. Tom Moore had been told by the AAU and/or the IAAF that the meet was attracting world-class athletes so he’d need a wind gauge. My Dad, Dr. Leon C. Glover, Senior, I think was involved. I remember seeing one of the old three-cup anemometers on a stand where the cups rotated in the horizontal plane. The wind person watched it during each short race or jump. If the readout dial indicated a wind--even briefly--over 2.0 meters per second it was considered wind-aided.

Not too long after that, the word came down that the wind to be measured and assessed for record purposes was to be an averaged wind--with little detail of what, how or where to measure it for either races--100, 200, short hurdles--or the two horizontal jumps. My Dad, with the help of one of Shell’s engineers, came up with the following: Shell had had a small--four-inch inside diameter --Taylor scientific anemometer with jeweled bearings for measuring air flows. It was paired with a stop watch with a ten-second sweep hand. The anemometer and the watch were started and stopped simultaneously. The meter read velocity in feet of air and the watch in fractions of seconds; division yields a measure of feet per second. The two values were divided with a pocket slide rule, and then converted to either meters per second or miles per hour. A fixture was machined to attach the anemometer to a camera tripod with telescoping legs. The equipment could readily be set up along the sprint straight away or jump runway and moved back and forth between the two as needed.

The above was used mainly at Modesto starting roughly in the early 1950s. Our first professional Track and Field wind gauge was designed at Cambridge University for the 1948 London Olympics and made at Cantabrian Instruments in Cambridge.

During one of my Raychem business trips in the mid-1970s I was able to visit Cantabrian and talk to their design engineer regarding several important design features, calibration, etc.

It was well after 1948 when we gained access for one to use. We’d moved to Palo Alto in 1955 for Shell and my Dad started doing wind measurements at Stanford. Shortly after--1956 to ‘58--Coach Payton Jordan--as you know a record setting sprinter himself--joined Stanford and within a very short time bought one for Stanford and gave it to Dad for care and use. We built a sturdy wooden box to hold it and its legs. We used it for many years with Coach’s permission at Stanford and Modesto.

Next came the first digital wind gauge designed by Bill Alley, a world class javelin thrower. It was called a Precision Digital Anemometer. This one was bought by the Pacific Association Officials Committee under George Newlon. Again it was given to my Dad and me for safe keeping and use at not only Stanford and Modesto but also UC-Berkeley and San Jose State, etc. This one had a clear plastic tube with the turbine wheel in the center to measure wind flowing through. It also had timing circuits to be able to set the now prescribed measuring periods for the wind related events, then calculate and display the averaged wind speed. It had tripod legs and was set up as described earlier. This design was later made and sold by the Track and Field equipment company UCS Spirit. The set times were initially 10 seconds for the hundred; 15 then 13 for the 120 high hurdles, 20 for the 220 straightaway, and five for the triple jump and long jump. The gauge would be set up, with the gauge started at the smoke of the starter gun or at the first step for the two jumps. The gauge automatically then measured and read out the average wind speed, by now mainly reported in meters per second, to two decimal places.

The next gauge was similar but with some refinements. It was the all-metal red one from Springco, with the tube mounted on a small box with the electronics and batteries. I have three of these, though their turbines sometimes come loose. In the early 2000s the IAAF wind rule was updated to require an ultrasonic wind gauge, no longer the older turbine type that went all the way back to the 1948 Cantabrian. I have one from Gill that was purchased and presented to me at an annual officials meeting by Ed Seese.

As you’d guess wind measurement for Track and Field started out simply and mainly at a very high level--mainly for world records. Post World War II Americans got back into training and many world records were advanced.
My Dad and I signed off on a number of those. We also were involved in an incident at Modesto that cost Phil Shinnick, a University of Washington undergrad at the time, a short lived world record in the Long Jump where he beat Ralph Boston and advanced the record distance slightly but there was NO wind reading on his jump. We had winds for all Boston’s jumps—we moved the gauge over from the straightaway for each one--but none of Shinnick’s because it wasn’t requested by Tom Moore, Meet Director, as at that time there was NO specific rule or directive to measure wind on every jump of every horizontal jumper. It’s a long and interesting story!

In fact, years later, Phil appealed to the IAAF—I as involved via an affidavit—and was granted a US but not a World record.

BC: I’m doing a little arithmetic here and realize that you would have done wind for the great sprinters at San Jose State in the 1960s, not to mention working for some great coaches-slash-meet-directors. You’ve mentioned Payton Jordan and Tom Moore. Bud Winter must have been in the mix.

LCG: I need to give some more historical background regarding the evolution of the wind rule, first. Shortly before the 1936 Olympics, the Germans had a number of sprinters make runs--I think in the 100 meters--where the winds and times were recorded and the data analyzed. Their conclusion--and remember that at the time, timing accuracy was to 0.1 seconds only--was that an aiding wind of greater than plus-2.0 meters per second would reduce the runner’s time by about 0.1 seconds.

When my Dad and I got involved at the California Relays the wind rule was very sketchy as to all the details we have today. Originally it wasn’t even an “averaged” value over the whole race, but whether the needle on a continuously measuring and reading anemometer went above the 2.0 meter per second cutoff at any time between start and finish. That meant that in a 100 meters of about 10 seconds an individual observation of 2.1 meters per second for even a tenth of a second or so would disqualify a potential record.

Early on in my time the rule was modified to measure the aiding wind during the full race. But there were NO details exactly how to do so. The timing period was “the “race,” not the present 10.0 seconds from the gun. We placed the gauge at about 50 meters and measured the time as close as possible to the duration—started the anemometer and watch at the smoke of the gun and stopped both as the lead runner broke the tape, as seen from 50 meters away, and recorded data and calculated meters per second with that pocket slide rule.

Here’s the situation we were put in at Modesto by Tom Moore.

At that time the rule did NOT state exactly where the gauge was to be put--either where along the straight or on which side of the track! As scientists we’d put the gauge at midpoint so we could readily see both the start gun and the finish. We put it inside and close to the rail partly because initially we had one gauge and occasionally had to move it to the nearby Long Jump runway to measure wind on a few high-level jumpers like Ralph Boston. Also, at Modesto there wasn’t much room outside of the track due to the stands.

Tom came to us before one of the California Relays and asked if we could put the gauge on the outside of the track to do the sprint measurements. If you’ve officiated at the Modesto Junior College track you’d understand why. The sprints are run on the west side, north to south. The prevailing wind down the valley is roughly north-south, with it part of the time maybe 15 degrees off that line and more from the northwest. It’s obvious that the outside position in that stadium would allow the stands to have more of a blocking effect. I can’t exactly remember how we resolved it with Tom, maybe ran one or two measurements in the unused outside lane and at last there the impracticality became obvious. Fortunately the wind rule was expanded a few years later and specified that the gauge was to be placed next to the inside lane.

We had similar experiences with San Jose State Coach Bud Winter and Tommie Smith, his world class sprinter of everlasting fame from the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. This one was also not a strict rules violation but in a way speaks to the influence of a high level coach and the working relationship between coaches and ourselves as working, impartial officials.

This situation happened more than once at San Jose State during Tommie’s senior year as he flirted with a number of sprint records. It had to do with maximizing the possibility that a race could be run within the time period with the best chance of legal winds. Coach Winter, as the race of interest approached, would talk to the starter and myself about doing our best to coordinate.

With the sprinters about ready I’d make measurements several times to see how the wind was varying. Yes, the wind close to the ground usually varies quite a bit and on a somewhat short cycle. I would then try to signal the starter with a thumbs-up when the wind looked good. At best it was partly effective, since the starter and the runners still had to go through their usual sequence.

Tommie was one of the three or four sprinters that made up what Bud called Speed City. Another was John Carlos. Their peak was those ‘68 Olympics.

Tommie was I would estimate 6’4 and I guess 170-175, tall and thin like Usain Bolt. But unlike Bolt, who I admire for his ability to do the 100-meter start, Tommie never was able to get really outstanding times in the 100 meters. His event was really the 200 meter and the relays, and he ran some amazing times on relay legs.

What was incredible, I can remember in this time period, they used to run eight full lanes of world-class relay teams at Modesto and watching the last hand off was exciting, and watching Tommie move up from whatever place he was in. I don’t have his leg times for those relays but they must have been amazing.

I believe Tommie did set the last, or one of the last, records for the 200 meter and 220 yard dash run on a straightaway--before all were forced to the curve start version.

The other thing he did, and he got really mad at Bud for it, Bud thought with those long strides, he should run the 400, and he finally ran it at one of the last meets of his senior year and he set a school record. He ran in the high 45’s in the first competitive 400 he ever ran.

BC: Aside from family heritage, what do you find particularly interesting or satisfying or fulfilling, as an official, about operating the wind gauge? What would you say to newer officials to encourage them to follow your career path?

LCG: Ever since being on the field with my Dad at the California Relays, about junior high age, and seeing the excitement and competition up close Track and Field officiating was exciting to me.

As I progressed through my technical education taking that background to the track added an extra dimension to officiating.

I have to say signing the wind reading on a WORLD RECORD application underlined the importance of what I was doing as a wind gauge official. The Shinnick incident only reinforced the importance of doing the officiating in a timely and correct manner.

Interacting with world class athletes along the runway as they stopped by to check on readings for previous jumps added immediacy to the officiating.

Giving advice for future wind gauge officials is a little hard. I had the good fortune to have my Dad before me, to early-on officiate at high level meets--Modesto, Berkeley, Stanford, the incredible 1968 Olympic Trials at South Lake Tahoe--and having a very long career all are factors.

Quick advice: you’ve got to love it, do it well and stick with it.

BC: At meets, every once in a while you’ve been asked to help with other field events. Which other field events intrigue you? And why?

LCG: In earlier years we were often short officials at many meets. In such cases we were asked to help out. I often was an umpire for relay passes. I’ve timed and counted laps for distance races. I’ve long enjoyed officiating the Multis as I did wind on required events, then helped out on other field events.

I almost forgot that before automatic timing with integrated wind measurements my Dad--once we had two wind gauges--measured wind for the track races and I’d measure wind for the horizontals. Modesto was always fun as Dad did the straightaway, I’d do the parallel jumps and we’d have a third wind gauge at the other runway across the field. For a number of years it was manned by Professor Oppenheim, an aeronautical engineering professor at Berkeley.

I guess my field event preferences go as horizontals first, then throws and finally verticals. I was a pretty good pole vault pole catcher when that was thought to be important.

BC: Hey, we still try to catch the poles when we can—our pit boss or a coach or volunteer or athlete. A cracked vaulting pole can be a dangerous thing.

Moving along, let’s talk about PA governance. You have served PA officials as the appointed vice chair responsible for awards under at least four officials chairs. What is the awards program and how are honorees chosen?

LCG: I think I became Awards Chair when Dick Connors first became committee chair. The previous Awards Chair was Dan Davidson from Sacramento and I think John Luppes, Gail Wetzork and Bob Podkaminer may also have held the post earlier.

Today’s awards in decreasing order are the following:
The Dick Barbour Meritorious Service Award is considered highest, basically for outstanding lifetime achievement as an official. His son John, now of Massachusetts, has kept in touch with Dick Connors and me and has provided a note of congratulation to the last several Barbour winners.

The GEORGE NEWLON SPECIAL RECOGNITION AWARD — TRACK is one of three equivalent awards, traditionally given to one who’s mainly a Track official, from the days of big finish line crews to time and place.

The HORACE CROW SPECIAL RECOGNITION AWARD — FIELD is given to a field-events official.

The LORI MAYNARD SPECIAL RECOGNITION AWARD is the most recent and is not given annually. We use it to honor those who’ve significantly aided our sport: coaches, writers, etc.

In 2013, Official’s Chair John Murray presented Dr. Glover with his Dick Barbour Award.

The USATF National Awards are a whole other thing. Our Association chooses a limited number of candidates to nominate to the national awards committee, based on our certified registration and spread across the four years of an Olympiad. Candidates must be at least Nationally Certified. We usually propose four to six per year and they’re reviewed and finalized by the National Awards Chair. He keeps the record of such awardees and also provides a beautiful national certificate.

The Pacific Association Awards are our own initial awards, with seven to ten being awarded each year to officials who have successfully worked about three seasons with high quality work. Recommendations come from our full Officials Committee and more senior officials. They are basically nominated by the Awards Vice Chair, with review and finalization by the Committee Chair.

The awards for a number of years have been presented at the annual meeting in late summer. The Barbour and Maynard are engraved plaques, the Newlon and Crow are engraved “gold” plates. The last two are paper, usually framed, the National from headquarters and the Association from ourselves, at present printed by Jim Hume.

As you’ve picked up there is a hierarchy and awardees from the lower levels become candidates for the higher ones. That is very much a guideline and definitely not rigid. I periodically review the two higher certification groups to see which awards they have or haven’t received.

BC: Four of our PA officials’ awards memorialize specific individuals. What can you tell our people about them?

LCG: I officiated for many years with all four. They’ve all passed on now. Three of the four officiated at the now famous 1968 Olympic Trials. All officiated at many levels, all over northern California and I believe also nationally.
Dick Barbour was a wounded World War II vet who lived in Palo Alto and was mainly a long time, high level horizontal jumps official. He officiated despite having to walk with leg braces from his wounds.
George Newlon in some ways was a prototype of our Dick Connors. He was a finish line official—timing and judging early on. He ran the Officials Committee for a number of terms, was head official at Stanford for many years, officiated widely, including the ‘68 trials; was often a meet referee in later years and lived in San Mateo.

In 2008, Stanford University presented Dick Connors and Dr. Leon Glover with silver plates in recognition of their years of service to Stanford Track & Field.

Horace Crow was mainly a vertical jumps official, especially pole vault. He lived in the North Bay--Santa Rosa or Petaluma. As I remember he was among our first officials, besides Tom Moore, to be involved with our national Track and Field officials.

Lori Maynard came into our officiating world after being a high level race walker. Sonny probably talked her into becoming an official. She’s obviously the most recent of the four, having died of cancer a few years ago. She was a wonderful colleague and official, always ready to help with any kind of officiating or meet. She even helped with wind gauge on a number of occasions and was a mentor before we had them.

BC: Finally, and we hope it isn’t a cliché by now, what would you tell young officials in the first or second years of their careers?

LCG:
• The athletes come first.
• Make use of mentoring.
• Know your rules, know the differences between high school, NCAA, USATF, IAAF.
• Follow updates.
• Work to build your officiating experience by pushing to learn the rules and techniques of multiple event categories: horizontals, verticals, throws, umpiring, marshalling.
• Work at multiple levels: high school, junior college, College, Open.

Interviewer’s notes:
It is nice to hear the name Ralph Boston again. First athlete to long-jump 27 feet, three-time Olympian, with medals in every color: Gold from Rome, Silver from Tokyo, Bronze from Mexico City. World Record holder in the Long Jump not just once, but twice (Soviet athlete Igor Ter-Ovanesyan beat Boston’s record; and Boston beat his). USATF Hall of Fame inductee in 1974.

BC thanks several friends for invaluable help: Baird Lloyd, Sonny Maynard, Charles Murphy, and Margaret Sheehan.