PIFFLE. P... I ... F... F... L ... E ...

Piffle. A noun. Something insignificant. Nonsensical.

Piffle.

Melvin Ray Frei was known to use colorful words and phrases such as piffle from time to time. He would straighten up, look down shaking his head and say: "Piffle."

Mel interviewed for an assistant professor of biology position at Trinity University 26 years ago. As his interview ended I remember him walking over to his little Toyota and I thought to myself no self-respecting Aggie would ride in a foreign car much less own a Japanese car. He later redeemed himself in the eyes of this Teasip when he bought a full-size GMC Extended Cab Pickup.

Mel grew up in a very different world from that of my own. Rural Westphalia, Texas bears little similarity to El Paso, Texas. Yet as undergraduates separated by 600 miles, we learned from the same calculus books, physics books, radiation chemistry books, and biochemistry books. I know this because his office had many of the same textbooks on the shelves as are found on my office bookshelves. We went to different graduate schools; yet, we both worked with Professors George Chrise, Sidney Fox, Jack Dobson, and Eleanor Cox. I studied anatomy and Mel studied physiology. At Trinity we taught some courses together and often shared research students. One of our common former students named his AKC registered hunting dog Melvin Ray Blystone. Upon learning the dog’s name, Mel’s only comment was: "Piffle."

Melvin Frei was phenomenal with students. Each year students would beg, fight, and scheme to get into his oversubscribed advanced physiology course. So many wanted in the course; and, so many would not earn an "A." No free grades in Professor Frei’s courses. He was a demanding, yet fair, instructor. He wanted his students to think, to reason, and to push themselves to do better. Over the years, Dr. Frei taught advanced physiology to approximately 800 students. More than 300 of these students are now in the health professions as medical doctors, dentists, and biomedically oriented Ph.D.s. The success of some of these professionals can be attributed directly to the teaching efforts of Melvin Ray Frei.

Once I was in the physiology lab with Mel where the students were learning for the first time how to install canulas. Mel stopped a conversation in mid-sentence and moved over behind a student on the other side of the lab. About thirty seconds later the doctor-to-be fainted over an anesthetized dog with Mel catching him just in time. I asked Mel, "How did you know he was going to faint?" Mel would answer, "He didn’t look right."

Mel knew how to read students; and, the students sensed this. They would come to him in droves and spend hours in his office. He would patiently listen and counsel with each one. Trinity students twice awarded him with an Outstanding Professor Award. Mel spent so much time listening to and advising students that one administrator actually instructed Mel to close his office door to students so he could get other work done.

Mel certainly got other work done. His research at Brooks Air Force Base brought him international attention. He joined and helped build one of the finest radio frequency radiation research teams anywhere in the world. His research dealt with the bioeffects of continuous-wave and pulsed radiofrequency radiation. He published over 50 research articles in journals with names such as Proceedings of the Society for Experimental Biology, Clinical Experimental Pharmacology and Physiology, Journal of Bioelectricity, International Journal of Radiation Biology, Shock, Bioelectromagnetics, Comparative Biochemistry and Physiology, Physiological Chemistry and Physics, Journal of Applied Physiology, Brain Research Bulletin, and Radiation Research. He gave research presentations at meetings in places such as Boston, Atlanta, and Rome, Italy; certainly far from his childhood home in Westphalia, Texas. He was the principal investigator of grants and research contracts totaling more than $1,500,000. Yet with all this top flight research under his belt, he felt more comfortable putting his foot up on the bumper of his truck and talking about fishin’, huntin,’ and what the kids were up to.

Mel was born in Waco, Texas as World War II was grinding to an end. He started his formal education in Westphalia public school where the classes were taught by nuns. He traveled to Lott, Texas for high school because Westphalia was too small for such a school. Mel graduated salutatorian. He drove 20 miles everyday to Temple, Texas for Junior College. During summer to earn money for school, Mel would combine wheat and maize all day long. His wife, Carol, told me that at the end of the day when he came off the combine, Mel would be covered head to toe with white corn starch so as to protect the skin from the irritating combine dust. He finished his undergraduate degree in agricultural education at Texas A&M. For tuition money, Mel worked in the summers for the Veterinary School. To cut expenses, one summer session he slept in goat barns at the Vet school. Upon completing his B.S. degree Melvin Ray and Carolyn Mae, became Mr. and Mrs. Frei. He received funding for graduate school from the National Science Foundation, the National Heart Institute, and the Army Corps of Engineers. He completed his M.S. degree in two years, and four years later he had his Ph.D. from Texas A&M University. During the same period he did additional study at the Veterinary School and at Baylor College of Medicine. He certainly put his hard earned education to good use for Melvin Frei became a great college teacher and an internationally recognized research scholar.

We have all been touched by Mel Frei. We have been impressed by his intellectual integrity. We have been impressed by his devotion to family. We have been impressed by his sincerity and home-spun honesty. And we have all witnessed his courage and that of Carol over the last year and a half. It is so hard to let go of a man who has added so much to the lives of so many.

Knowing Mel as I have, I suspect if he can hear these words right now he would be saying, "Piffle." God’s speed, old friend, God’s speed.

Robert V. Blystone

2/26/98