27 January 2022

Share Your Memory and Pay Tribute to Arlo Landolt

Kevin Marvel

Kevin Marvel American Astronomical Society (AAS)

The AAS community lost one of its most dedicated members this month. Arlo Landolt, our longest serving Secretary, passed away peacefully on 21 January 2022.

Arlo served two 9-year terms as the AAS Secretary, first from 1980 to 1989 and again from 1995 to 2004. He probably would have continued serving if the bylaws of the Society at the time did not limit service to three 3-year terms for the Secretary and Treasurer positions. The AAS will send flowers to his memorial service on behalf of all AAS members, to honor Arlo and his service to the astronomy community. In addition, we want to collect and share your memories of Arlo here on our website. He touched so many people in our organization and the broader astronomical community with his kindness, generosity, positive attitude, willingness to engage in conversation, and pleasant and friendly demeanor. Meeting him at our conferences was always a pleasure, and his years of dedicated service stand as a model for all to consider. An obituary will be prepared for the Bulletin of the AAS, coordinated by our Historical Astronomy Division.

Please take a moment to submit a comment below (after log in, please scroll down to the bottom of the page to submit) and we will publish your tribute as soon as possible.

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I met Arlo while I was based at Cerro Tololo during Nov. 1982 - Jan. 1985, as I worked on the Columbia University Millimeter-Wave Sky Survey. We brought a clone of our New York City radio telescope to Tololo in order to finish the survey of the Milky Way galaxy in Carbon Monoxide (CO). We also mapped the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds in CO. In our observing with the 1.2-m dish, we observers worked "one-week-on" shifts on the mountain, then had a free week off, down on the coast in La Serena (or elsewhere on travel).

Quite a number of times in my shifts on the mountain, Arlo was on the schedule on one or more the CTIO facility telescopes and instruments during his runs. These were the days when the photometer cold boxes were cooled with dry ice, and Arlo was usually doing wonderful service work in the field in establishing photometric standard stars. 

My memories of Arlo are Tololo are golden. He was wonderfully warm and engaging in conversation, and had many interesting stories and anecdotes to share, which thrilled and entertained this young (at the time!) Astronomer. I was in love with the southern sky, and living and working under it each day and night (our telescope was able to operate 24 hours per day, and did so, in three shifts with three observers). I chatted often with Arlo on walks around the mountain roads, to and from the dining room, or from the dorms to the telescopes. He always wore his famous olive-green jacket, or coat (parka?, anorak?), which he received as a participant during the 1957-8 International Geophysical Year (IGY) in Antarctica. The jacket was almost unbelievably tattered and torn, and he was rightfully famous in wearing (sporting!) this most humble and beloved attire. I hope the AAS has preserved it carefully in their archives, if the family could part with it after Arlo's passing.

I'd brought with me to Tololo a homemade 10-inch f/4 telescope mirror and cell and Newtonian secondary mirror and spider support I'd made as an amateur, plus focusser and eyepieces, and at Tololo I fashioned a telescope "tube" for these optics from sawn wood spars and cut-off tubular rings from empty propane canisters I'd found in the mountain scrap-yard of retired but useful materials. With this 'scope, I enjoyed stargazing at Tololo. But it also became my "Green-Flash Machine". Every sunset, after dinner, I'd bring the 'scope out to the patio of the CTIO 60-inch facing West toward the ocean, place it horizontally on the brickwork, and point it to the setting sun, and projected through an eyepiece an image of the sun on a white card. On every such occasion, the green flash could be seen, more usually as detached green turbulent bits of the limb of the sun shimmering and blowing away, but very saturated green in color (sometimes blue). Many astronomers joined in around the 'scope and projection screen and viewed this, it was a service I loved to provide, and was a small and brief center of intense conversation following dinner and before the astronomers scattered to their individual telescopes on the compact flat mountaintop. On Arlo's runs, I think Arlo never missed one of these Green Flash Machine gatherings, and we were often rewarded with his companionship and comments. Arlo added class to these gatherings in his signature IGY coat!

Just one more anecdote: Arlo surprised me on one occasion by mentioning the variable star "RU Lupi". He made it sound very funny, by posing it as a question: "RU Lupi?" I thought he was making it up.  But, no, there really is an RU Lupi, a variable. Little things like this from Arlo are among some of the great things I treasure in my memories of him. His humor and winning spirit were always uplifting and enriching. I agree with others here that he was "a natural mentor".

Down on the coast in Chile, I recall fondly a group meal some of us had with Arlo at the Chinese restaurant in Coquimbo, "Mai Lan Fan".  Previously, I'd only had meals with Arlo on the mountain, but here we had yet a different menu to enjoy, and it was a wonderful time  We were seeing Arlo off after his run: he'd be flying to Louisiana the next day. I recall that Carol Neese was in attendance, who'd been at the Tololo 4-m gathering data to finish her PhD with Ken Yoss at UIUC (Urbana-Champaign), and five or six other visiting astronomers who'd just recently come off their runs, too.

Ah, and when I later worked at the Lunar and Planetary Lab and the University of Arizona in Tucson, in the Spacewatch Survey for Near-Earth Objects as an observer and responsible for Optics, Arlo would visit Tucson occasionally, and visit Tom Gehrels in the office next to mine, and Bob McMillan across the hall from me. It was wonderful to see and chat with Arlo again, in yet a different context from Tololo. And, in town, he would wear his dark suit coat and look quite formal, not the IGY parka!

In whatever coat he wore, Arlo shone, and shone steady, like his Standard Stars. Thank you, Arlo!

— Joe Montani / Tucson / W7DXW

C. O'Dell
Full Emeritus Member
Affiliation
Vanderbilt University
State/Province
TN
Country
United States
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Most AAS members came to know Arlo as a balding, mature scientist intent on measuring/remeasuring stars with wonderful photometric precision. None of us knew him as a vigorous young man who was on the crew that first over-wintered at the south pole-long before today's hotel-style accommodations. He was AAS Secretary during the period that I was Treasurer, thus giving us plenty of opportunity to go in-depth with a relationship already twenty years old. Neither position was flashy, but they tended to be long-duration so he became the old hand, who had seen other officers and councilors come and go. He was the corporate memory, using his good sense, personal style, and experience to make our professional society what it is today. The world is a bit lonelier without him.

We at the AAVSO are so saddened by Arlo’s passing. He was a treasured member of our community — he was a longtime member and supporter, served several terms on our Council/Board, was a colleague in research, and utilized AAVSO data and resources (for both his current research and research done decades earlier), provided wise counsel on many topics, and more. Of course, his contributions to photometry were pioneering and fundamental, and his Landolt Standard Fields are a key resource for our variable star observers. However, what we treasured most and will miss the most is Arlo himself — his kindness, his honest friendship, his sincerity and humility, the good conversations with him at AAVSO meetings and on the phone when he called AAVSO HQ, seeing his smiling face approaching and knowing he was genuinely happy to see one, knowing he always listened with all of his attention. We posted a brief appreciation of Arlo on our website (https://www.aavso.org/remembering-arlo), but words fall short to say how much we cared for the gentleman and gentle man who was Arlo Landolt.

Arlo was a meticulous observer who provided a solid foundation for precise absolute photometry. He was a president of Commission 25 (now B6), one of the bedrock commissions of the IAU at its founding. He and his ever helpful, warmly collegial counsel will be greatly missed by everyone who knew him.

I can't remember the first time I met Arlo — it must have been at Kitt Peak while observing as there were so many times we intersected there over the years. Many night lunches and conversations later, we met on various committees, AAS and especially AAVSO where we shared our interests on variable stars and how amateurs and professionals should work together. I especially value the times Arlo would just phone up to talk about some latest issue or get my thoughts on his object that he was writing up. He was always interesting and kind to talk with and willing to help everyone. I feel privileged to have known and worked with him and he will always serve as a role model for how to conduct my life as an astronomer.

I first came to LSU as an REU student in the summer of 2016. I met my mentor Rob at the reception, but then he immediately had to leave for an observing run in Chile. I didn't have any astronomy research experience at that point, and was nervous to be left alone before I even really knew anyone. When Arlo noticed I was there by myself, he made a point to introduce himself and then check on me every day until Rob got back. He made extra sure to let me know that he had left donuts in the front office for National Donut Day. I didn't know until Rob got back and started formally introducing me to the rest of the astronomy faculty that I had been talking to an astronomy "superstar."

When I returned in 2018 for grad school, Arlo remembered who I was and was just as kind and encouraging. After my talks in astro seminar, he would always stop me in the hall to tell me I had done a good job, and that he thought my talk was interesting. My office was in what we lovingly referred to as "Arlo's Closet" (due to the fact that our desks were squeezed in amongst shelves and shelves of his journal archives, committee paperwork, and research work), and when he would pop in to grab something, he'd always make a point to check in and see how we were doing or tell us a joke. He made sure the LSU library was stocked with any astronomy textbook we could ever possibly need, and we were welcome to use his personal collection as well, "as long as we promised to bring it back."

As someone who is also a farm kid from "the middle of nowhere," I really looked up to Arlo. Our stories may have been a little different since I was born 60 years later, but it still meant a lot to me to know that someone with a similar background had gone so far in astronomy. Arlo's constant kindness and encouragement — especially when he probably had every right to have an ego if he'd been so inclined — meant a lot to me as a baby grad student, and still do now. He was the sort of person and astronomer I hope to be. I regret that the pandemic prevented me from seeing him much before he fell ill. Ad astra, Arlo.

I overlapped with Arlo on many observing runs — mainly at CTIO.  Early on, it seemed to me he was always there.  He wasn't, of course, but he WAS always a true gentleman, whether at a telescope, in the dining hall, at an AAS meeting, or wherever I happened to meet him. Like astronomers everywhere, I will surely miss him.

Colorful and constantly bright, just like his stars, Arlo was a beacon to so many of us. I was fortunate to share many evenings at CTIO with Arlo, every one of them a pleasure. While many of us on the mountain joked that he was the one who brought clouds to Tololo, we really knew that we were in the presence of greatness and that the clouds would undoubtedly go away ... probably when Arlo was ready for them to disperse. He was a long-time user of my own favorite telescope, the CTIO 0.9m, and he used it well, adding to the great history of Tololo and The Best Telescope in the World.

Let us remember that Arlo Landolt himself was a standard by which all of us might measure ourselves, should we be wise enough to do so.

Todd Henry / RECONS

In the summer of 1995, I was an undergraduate working to finish my senior thesis — a photometric study of a previously discarded W UMa type eclipsing binary star. I wrote to Arlo Landolt at Louisiana State University to request a reprint of his catalog of UBVRI photometric standard stars, which was published in the Astronomical Journal in 1992.

Dr. Landolt promptly responded by sending the reprint in the mail, including a cover letter that provided his email address in case I wanted an electronic copy of the data tables. I followed up by email, and again he responded quickly to provide access to his data tables.

I found it validating to be treated as a fellow professional, despite only being an undergraduate. I resolved to be just as courteous and responsive to inquiries from anyone in the field, following Arlo's good example.

Travis Metcalfe / White Dwarf Research Corp.

 

I had the pleasure of sharing several cloudy nights in the cafeteria with Arlo, both as a graduate student and then later as a faculty member with my own students along. As others have noted, his friendliness and genuine interest in others' research and career goals were always on display. It was particularly remarkable to see such a senior observer engage with and encourage my female undergraduate students in their work. Our community is truly lesser with his passing.

Steve Lawrence

Rica French
Full Member
Affiliation
MiraCosta College & Center for Astronomy Education
State/Province
CA
Country
United States
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I first met Arlo in either '96 or '97 (AAS 187 or AAS 189) as a green undergrad. My first two observing runs made extensive use of the Landolt standards and I was fascinated by the work so when someone pointed him out, I marched right up to him, introduced myself (as if he would know or care who I was), and said that I just had to shake the hand of the man who'd put so much time and effort into that catalogue. He seemed surprised (almost even a bit embarrassed) but smiled really big and thanked me. In hindsight, I fear I fangirled a bit and may have freaked him out.

Nevertheless, he was so kind and patient and chatted with me for several minutes. He seemed genuinely interested in how I'd come into astronomy (a bit late as I was an older undergrad) and was very supportive and encouraging. I never forgot that and made it a point to say hello when I ran into him at meetings throughout the years.

In 2017, at one of the AAS 229 receptions, Nigel Sharp, Gina Brissenden, and I found ourselves enjoying another conversation with Arlo. I don't remember how it started but at some point we joked that Arlo was one of the most well-known astronomers of our time and if he signed my hat, his signature and the blinky lights would make it one of the coolest hats in the universe. We laughed and continued chatting. Then about two minutes later Gina reappears — grinning like a Cheshire cat and victoriously holding up a marker — and says, "Now you can sign the hat!" So he did. And he was such a great sport he even modeled it for us!

I've treasured that silly hat ever since. It sits in a place of honor in my home save for when I occasionally feel like sporting the coolest hat in the universe. And I do, occasionally (usually at outreach events). And it makes me smile every time.

What a lovely human we had the privilege of knowing. Thank you, Arlo, for your kindness, patience, encouragement, brilliance, dedication, and delightful sense of humor.

Rica Sirbaugh French / MiraCosta College & Center for Astronomy Education

Arlo, Nigel Sharp, and me chatting at an AAS229 reception while I wear my hat. Arlo and me grinning while he signs my hat. Arlo modeling my hat.

I met Arlo through my parents when we were doing Astronomy Camps on Kitt Peak. They had met him on a walk in the afternoon and chatted with him for a long while. When I came to dinner at the KPNO cafeteria my mom was so excited to introduce me to the astronomer they met. So she introduced me to her new buddy Arlo and when I learned his last name I was awestruck. It was so inspiring to me to meet someone who had books at every observatory and that I had used these catalogs in my research. I had the opportunity to explain what he did and why it was important to our campers and why I was starstruck, literally. Since then I have only heard stories from all the other people who knew him and observed with him on various mountains. I wish I could have known him more but I am glad I was able to meet him in person several times. He will be missed.

Wayne Schlingman / Ohio State

I met Arlo during my first observing run at CTIO, while I was still a graduate student. I was alone and unfamiliar with CTIO. Arlo and his graduate student let me join with them at meals, and Arlo made me feel comfortable with CTIO observing procedures. I was particularly impressed by his kindness, his gentleness, and the way he was willing to share his considerable observing insights. Speaking with others over the years, I realized that he treated everyone with respect and kindness, and was a natural mentor. This was just the way he was. He will be missed.

When I was a grad student at Michigan, Arlo was the first astronomer I met who wasn't one of my professors. At that time, as a wanna-be astronomer, Arlo was a pleasure to meet. He already had lots of good stories to tell. Over many years I spent many observing runs at Kitt Peak and Cerro Tololo overlapping with Arlo. I was always pleased when I saw his name on the schedule. He joined us for every sunset at Tololo, looking for that elusive "green flash". Arlo was always sincere, supporting,  and polite to all. 

His wise counsel will be missed.

Roberta Humphreys, University of Minnesota

I always looked forward to observing at KPNO when I knew that Arlo Landolt would be there also. Dinners and midnight lunches were times to treasure as he would tell stories of being at the South Pole during the International Geophysical Year when he wintered over, and then stories of observing at KPNO and CTIO. More importantly, Arlo was a good listener and mentor to graduate students and postdocs. He always was curious and encouraging to those of us starting in the field.

Arlo was also a fixture on the AAS Council, having served for many years. He, more than anyone else, was an image of the AAS.

He will be missed by all.

I got to know Arlo Landolt as the keeper of many of the secondary photometric standards I used in much of my PhD work. He was renowned for care and attention to detail, and I appreciated everything I learned from him (often at AAS winter meetings) about how to make sure that a set of photometric measurements was reliable and consistent. Years later, I had some responsibility for the calibration of the Sloan Digital Sky Survey imaging, where we started using self-calibration approaches from cosmology, using Arlo's secondary standards only as tests (not as direct calibrators). At Arlo's retirement conference/party (which was a delight from beginning to end) a very good set of discussions opened up about how calibration is changing, driven by the availability of self-calibration methods. Arlo was in complete command of this. He was not married to his past methods, to which he had devoted his life; he was intellectually engaged in astrophysics and approached everything new with rigor and (as far as I could tell) delight. Maybe what I mean to say is: He understood that even something as routine as photometric calibration was intellectually important, deep, and worthy of our attention, care, and constant innovation. I couldn't agree more! I will miss him and we are way worse off without him.

David W. Hogg / New York University

The words and stories in the preceding tributes all ring so true: hard-working, inspiring, generous, kind, warm-hearted. Arlo was all of these. I fondly recall dinners with him at the CTIO cafeteria overlooking the spectacular scenery while hoping for a visit from a condor, along with sunsets on the summit. Arlo taught me about techniques and equipment in the waning days of single-channel photoelectric photometry at CTIO, and how to judge observing conditions. A quick call to his dome would always yield an assessment of whether it was photometric. At panel review meetings, he was a model of quiet confidence, graceful wisdom, and understated humor. I know of few astronomers who have had such a wide-ranging impact on our field and on the people in it. It was a joy to know him.

Working in supernova cosmology, calibration is always in my mind and the amount of fundamental work that Dr. Landolt did to even enable our measurements is inconceivable to me.

I had the pleasure of meeting him on a trip to observe at CTIO. He was sitting in the La Serena library and a colleague introduced us. It was such an unexpected pleasure. He was warm and kind, with a gentle intensity.

He was down to keep observing more stars, doing more calibration. As a fresh postdoc at the time, I thought: "He's already done so much, he doesn't have to still be observing." But now I understand better. He was walking his path and doing good work for the benefit of all. He gave so much to our community. I will always be thankful.

Several years ago, when I had occasion to travel to the South Pole on NSF business, I found that they had traditional photos of all the "winter-over" crews posted in a gallery. Imagine my surprise to find that Arlo was part of the very first official winter-over crew in the International Geophysical Year of 1957. For photos, see https://www.southpolestation.com/trivia/igy1/1957.html. I also have fond memories of Arlo from working with him during my time on the AAS Council. The community is fortunate to have had his long service.

I didn't know Arlo Landolt personally, but reprints of his photometric standards papers were front and center on my desk for decades, dogeared and carried to every observing run. His work benefited our community tremendously. Just today I wrote the finishing touches for a paper in which I used Landolt standards to calibrate some observations from Cassini. He was a legendary, larger-than-life person. My condolences to his family.

Bonnie Buratti, Jet Propulsion Laboratory

I met Arlo in Chile at CTIO many years ago, in 1989. He was indeed a gentleman, and I also very much enjoyed talking to him at dinner some nights at the observatory there, especially about his time in Antarctica for the International Geophysical Year of 1957 that I read about as a little kid. It was nice to get to talk with someone who had actually been a part of that, because I had always wanted to visit Antarctica and the South Pole, and those things I read about it as a little kid were fascinating to me back then, and still are... On that occasion, I was there mainly as part of an observing run for the HST Guide Star Photometric Catalog (and additionally observing a few galaxies), and of course Arlo was the master of photometric standards. Like having dinner with the master, but he was very gracious and kind about it all to one much younger. A very nice man, as well as a great scientist, and I was privileged to have met him, and especially in such a place and in such a circumstance. I'm sure I met him briefly in other circumstances since then, but that first occasion will always be the one I remember the best.

I have known Arlo through many AAS meetings and IAU GA's and observing runs at Lowell observatory. We even remembered one of his birthdays during an observing run at Lowell. He has been a true friend and supporter. I appreciated him so much. What a gentleman!

Dr. Ron Samec

As a graduate student I spent many nights at Kitt Peak while Arlo Landolt was also observing. After one of the typically fantastic dinner conversations, Arlo walked with me toward the 2-meter. There was a gorgeous sunset, with glowing red and orange clouds wrapping around the horizon. I started to excuse myself to go into the dome, sputtering out some wish to look over target lists and start dealing with calibration images. Arlo gently mentioned that an astronomer taking time to enjoy such a sunset was never shirking duty — nature did not give us both great sunsets and busy evenings for observing. His grace and wisdom will always have an important part in my heart.

Howard Bond
Full Emeritus Member
Affiliation
Pennsylvania State University/STScI
State/Province
PA
Country
United States
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So sad to hear about Arlo's passing. He changed my life as few other astronomers did.

Arlo gave me my first post-PhD job as a postdoc at LSU...which soon morphed into a faculty position lasting some 15 years before I moved on to STScI.

In my research I've used his standard stars for many projects, including a big one just accepted by ApJ. In addition to the mammoth contribution of his photometric standards, he worked tirelessly, and usually behind the scenes, to support the AAS during his 18 years (!) as AAS Secretary. And he was a kind and gentle person. I'll really miss him.

Howard E. Bond / Penn State / STScI

Arlo was indeed one of most generous, kind, empathetic, and warm-hearted individual i have come across. In the early 2000s, I was a graduate student at LSU, and had my "office" in Arlo's lab. Arlo would *always* be around, and he'd be the first to greet me sometimes if I somehow made it to to school before 9:00 am. But no matter when he saw me first, he'd say 'hi' and usually enquire about my well-being. 

When I took a tenure-track position at a small liberal arts school in North-east Missouri, Arlo fondly remembered his time in the mid-west as a kid, and told me a few stories and talked about the wild winds and winters on the midwestern plains. He always has time for everyone! 

I could share several anecdotes, but one does come to mind that always makes me chuckle — related to how "Arlo was always around": The astronomy faculty were gathered in the colloquium room for our weekly "paper of the week" discussion. For some reason Geoff Clayton was upset about how he sees no one around in the department on weekends. Except Arlo, of course — he is always around. So Geoff was like "It seems only Arlo and I are working over the weekends..." At which point Joel Tohline, looked up from his laptop and said — "Yes, apparently the only two people who have not figured out how to remotely log into their computers." Everyone burst out laughing, no one more so than Arlo. He was always such a good sport about the gentle teasing and leg-pulling other faculty would indulge in at his expense!

As a young graduate student seeing this mutual camaraderie and genuine affection between the faculty was both reassuring and inspiring. It was clear to me that Arlo, well, set the standard (sorry!). I'll miss him!

Arlo was the kindest, most hard working, decent astronomer I have ever known. From taking time for me as a young astronomer and helping my thinking about being an astronomer to his words and actions about how to be a good person and community citizen, Arlo was an inspiration. He was the best dressed observer I ever knew. We laughed, observed together, and spent many cloudy nights guessing what the night lunch really contained and sharing stories, really astronomer versions of fish tales, about weather and telescope issues we had experienced. Arlo was so modest of his work and himself, yet his contributions to photometry and astronomy allowed many generations of us to succeed and discover the secrets of the universe. I will miss him.

Arlo was a dear man. I shared many observing run with him on the Kitt Peak 2.1-meter telescope. He was always a delight to work with.