I survived my aneurysm because scientists very much like my father developed nearly miraculous procedures for keeping people alive. And then he appeared above me at the worst—and almost the last—moment of my life in a form that he and every man at the Quiet Torpedo Meeting would surely have dismissed as a hallucination. Now I find myself reading papers on quantum theory and cosmology, trying to understand what I saw; trying to understand why he was there. He appeared
