To our most beloved Dr. Dun
Dear Dr. Dun,
It has been over a month since we learned of your passing. Having settled our waves of reluctance and grief, we have been quietly reminiscing about the times we spent together. Those days feel so vivid and warm, as if they happened just yesterday.
Because Chih had already been studying in the United States for a year, I hoped to reunite with him as a couple while also continuing my own doctoral journey. In the winter of 1992, I visited you for the very first time. You welcomed us with dinner at the "Bamboo Restaurant." You didn't ask about my TOEFL score, my GRE results, or even my undergraduate GPA. Instead, under the soft, warm lights of the restaurant, you smiled and said in your signature slow, gentle cadence, "Oh, Hsun-Hsun, I think I can help you and Chih save a fortune on long-distance phone bills." Outside, the December snow drifted across Ohio, yet that winter filled our hearts with warmth.
During our four years in Toledo, I remember you would ask every single morning, "How were the cells yesterday?" At that time, I felt immense pressure - it seemed impossible to hide any experimental data from this professor. Many years later, when I became an advisor myself, I found those same words slipping from my mouth to my own students, asking them, "How were the cells yesterday?" In those moments, a wave of recognition washed over me—perhaps it could be described as an "epiphany." I finally realized the heritage behind the question. If academia has lineages, you are a grand, majestic tree, and I am incredibly fortunate to be a small branch on the Dun academic family tree. Dear Dr. Dun, on this little branch of mine, there are now 12 master's graduates and 3 PhDs—they are all your academic grandchildren.
Our time learning under you was intense and fulfilling, yet filled with joy. Traveling with you to attend conferences also gave us the wonderful opportunity to explore the world. We went to Miami in 1994, San Diego in 1995, and Washington, D.C. in 1996. In the summer of 1997, we moved south to Tennessee with you. Along the way, we visited the Biltmore Estate Winery in Asheville together, where you shared the Vanderbilt family's history. We weren't just learning science; we were experiencing a magical journey across North America.
The hills of Johnson City were beautiful, but it was time for us to return to our homeland, Taiwan. That was our first farewell, though we believed we would meet again soon. In the many years that followed, you became a frequent visitor to Taiwan, and we were also fortunate to stay at your home in Philadelphia during one of our conference trips to the United States. Each goodbye then carried the promise of another reunion; we would always wave and say to each other, "Goodbye, see you next time."
But this time, you have been gone a little longer, and our reunion has not yet come. We feel deep sorrow, yet also gratitude —grateful to have known you, and grateful that you knew us. People once believed the world was flat, until science proved that the Earth is round. Perhaps one day we will discover that life, too , is a circle, and that after walking its full circumference, we will meet again.
And so, dearest Dr. Dun, we say once more: "Goodbye, see you next time."
Hsun-Hsun and Chih