HERZMARK, Leonard
Husband, Father, Grandfather, Great-grandfather. Inventor, Scientist, Mathematician. Mentor, Volunteer, Teacher. Soldier, Sailor, Skier. Wise man. Wise guy. Professional Engineer Leonard Erwin Herzmark, 93, of San Pedro, California, called it quits on Monday, February 19, 2018. Checkout time was exactly straight up, high noon - 1100 in his cherished binary code. Remember now his playful, bright smile - sparkling eyes - myriad contributions - love for his family - - - and his engineering. A mischievous experimenter, he was born in Kansas City, Missouri, June 29, 1924 to unsuspecting parents, Abraham and Dorothy. As a teenager, he blew up the basement of the family home with an early chemistry set. His tinkering with the phone line in the house earned him a visit and a stern rebuke from the Bell Telephone Company in the late 1930s. But each time the smile and the eyes melted the opposition - and he was given another chance (which he always took). His pursuit of chemical engineering at The University of Oklahoma was interrupted by World War II. Enlisting in the Army, he trained as a combat medic. Eventually assigned to the 120th Hospital Evacuation Unit, his unit arrived at Buchenwald Concentration Camp during the first three days of the liberation in 1945. He said he was just doing his job, but he was a hero for what he did there. After the war, his degree was put on hold again, when he took over the family's plastic packaging business in Kansas City. In 1949, he married Barbara Lerner from New Jersey. Their union would last 68 years and produce three sons: Paul, Jay, and Michael. And his inner engineer bloomed, as well. Need to automatically bundle 256 plastic bags? He designed the contraption. How about a rig to vacuum pack cheese? He could make you one. And when the digital age came knocking (for him it began in the mid-1960s), he whole-heartedly knocked back. In 1966, beginning with an array of Motorola readout tubes, some transistors he had lying around the basement, and the newest tech marvel of the era (an audio cassette player), he built one of the first digital alarm clocks. After recording a short message to himself on the tape player, the tape cassette was rewound and the power was turned off. When the digital tubes and transistors powered back on in the morning, He awoke to his own voice on the tape: "Leonard, it's 7am. Time to get up. And don't forget all the things you have to do today." Could the iPhone be far behind? The list of things he wanted to do was long. Family vacations in the station wagon, amateur radio hi-jinks in the basement (call letters K0BWU and W0HHS), sponsoring high school exchange students, mastering his Exakta camera. A bit of Colorado skiing, a helping of Arthur Bryant's BBQ, a splash of sail boating, an hour of The Texaco Opera Theatre. Helping the kids to learn riding a bike, travel with Barbara, claiming patents for his machines. His life was full. Except the empty space of that engineering degree. In 1971, he went back after it. Took three semesters of full-time college at the University of Kansas in Lawrence, earning once and for all his Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering. Quickly following were invitations to join the honorary engineering fraternities of Tau Beta Pi and Sigma Tau. He had arrived. But then he was gonewhen he and Barbara moved to Arizona for 42 years where he worked water safety, air quality and computer programming for the state and county governments. In 1989 he retired and went back to tinkering in his Tucson garage, volunteering at the Job Corps, the Flandrau Planetarium, the The Southern Arizona Research, Science, and Engineering Foundation (SARSEF) science fairs, and the Tucson Salvation Army holiday meals (he sliced the turkey). All that in between designing algorithms for his hundreds of fractals (he was always tickled that all his numbers and formulas made the prettiest pictures). On Friday the 13th in October of 2017, Leonard and Barbara moved to San Pedro, California. It was his lucky day. Although leaving his long time home in the desert he'd come to love, he made new friends who liked him, admired his intellect, enjoyed his personality and corny jokes, and remarked on the smileand the sparkling eyes. We love you, Pop, and hope you've been issued a slide rule. Leonard is survived by his wife, three sons and their families, and three nieces: Jody Crown, Valerie Henderson, and Vicki Sanabria. The Herzmarks would be honored by any contributions made to SARSEF or The Community Food Bank of Southern Arizona. Both in Tucson, Arizona.