ODDS ‘N’ SODS — Remembering Harry Warren

As an ex-student of Dr. Harry Warren, I read his recent obituary in The Northern Miner with nostalgic memories of my old mineralogy professor and mentor. This man probably had more influence on the course of my life than any other person.

Harry worked as a mucker in the Aunor gold mine in Ontario after emigrating from England in the fall of 1947. I arrived in Vancouver in 1948 on my way, so I thought, to Australia, intending to work during my passage.

This proved more difficult than expected and, having run out of money, I had to get a job.

In the fall, evening classes were held in elementary geology, mineralogy and prospecting techniques. The lecturers were Dr. Warren and Dr. H.C. Cumming.

In the spring of 1949, I was preparing to go prospecting — alone — in the Queen Charlotte Islands. Although anybody holding a prospecting licence was entitled to a game licence, this I was refused because, as I was told, I would decimate the deer population of the Queen Charlotte Islands. The man must have been one of the first do-gooders, however, he quite likely saved my life. Anybody who has worked in that country will know what I mean — to go alone into that sort of terrain is asking for trouble.

I was already having misgivings about this prospecting business and decided to go out to Point Greg to seek Dr. Warren’s advice. The university year had just finished, and he was in the mineralogy lab, clad in brown overalls, cleaning up after the exams. He couldn’t have been nicer and devoted a considerable amount of time to me, eventually persuading me to start the geological engineering course at the university. This required some very hard work on my part, as I had left school at 15 in 1934 to join the Royal Air Force. After attending summer school in math, physics and chemistry, I started the geological engineering course in the fall.

My main memories of Harry Warren are of his fine, strong English voice in the mineralogy lectures and of his attempts to persuade me to play grass hockey in the winter and cricket in the summer. I had time for neither.

The University of British Columbia has lost one of its great men, and those of us who passed through his hands will look back with affectionate memories of our old teacher.

— The author is a consulting geologist residing in Hertsfordshire, England.