Bertram Neville Brockhouse
On an ordinary Wednesday morning in October 1994, Bert Brockhouse gets out of bed at his usual time, about 6:45 a.m. As he stretches a bit to loosen the overnight aches of his 76-year-old body, he sees the little red light blinking on the answering machine. “Who could have called in the middle of the night?” he wonders, as he presses the play button.
He listens to a voice announcing...