In April 1969, Physics Today published a photograph of the American Physical Society’s 1932 banquet at the Ambassador Hotel in Atlantic City. The striking group portrait, dense with faces, was paired with an open call to readers: How many diners can you name and locate?
This was more than just a photo caption challenge. It was an ambitious crowdsourcing experiment, decades before the term crowdsourcing came to be. The story of this photo, as documented in AIP’s archives, illustrates something special about the physical science community’s memory practices.
A Chorus of Replies
A wide range of responses flowed into the Physics Today inbox. Some came as formal letters, others as annotated reproductions of the photo or handwritten lists. Together, they illustrate a vibrant network of collective memory, reconstructing not just a list of names but a sense of shared history and memory.
John C. Clark of La Jolla, California, sent a handwritten annotated copy of the article pictured below. He noted that while he hadn’t attended the banquet, he could name many who had. His copy of the article features numbers above various individuals’ heads, matched to a list including R. A. Millikan, I. I. Rabi, John Von Neumann, and Karl Compton.
The way people responded to this challenge is in itself indicative of their personalities. G. N. Glasoe, at Brookhaven National Laboratory, wrote to say he “was surprised to be reminded that [he] was present when the photo was taken” and that he tried his luck at identifying the people pictured. Along with the message, he included a typed list of identifications, complete with coordinates in centimeters from the bottom-left corner of the image. There is an element here of a physicist’s sense of precision applied to this fun little activity in historical crowdsourcing.
There are other responses from people pictured who shared a bit about their recollections of the event. Ralph Bennett wrote in to identify himself as the “smiling man at the left just under Albert Hull’s chin—still smiling and enjoying life hugely.” Bennett fondly recalled trucking the MIT exhibit to the banquet with colleagues and sleeping in the truck because “$ were short.”
Reed Hobart Ellis Jr, then editor of, Physics Today, wrote back to thank Bennett for the letter, noting that he intended to reproduce it in the magazine. In this way, some of the stories shared made their way back into the magazine and also into AIP’s archives.
AIP’s Archives are our Community’s Archives
These responses now live in the collections of AIP’s Niels Bohr Library & Archives . All the images I have shared here come from a single folder in the 21 linear feet of records in the Physics Today Division Records collection that covers 1948-1971 . You can see a picture of where that folder is on one of those archival collection boxes below.
This small sample of one of our many collections showcases how AIP’s Niels Bohr Library & Archives is more than a repository. Through publications like Physics Today, AIP supports an ongoing dialog with the physical sciences community. Some of that shows up in the pages of the magazine, but the rest of it ultimately makes its way into our archives. In the archives, these records persist forward as resources for all of us, and for historians and science writers of the future, to explore. They offer us an opportunity to understand how science happens and the people who make science happen.
This story reminds us that archives don’t just preserve the past: they are built by people who care enough to remember, to write, to annotate, to share. If you have personal recollections, photographs, memoirs, or correspondence related to the physical sciences community, we invite you to consider contributing to the Niels Bohr Library & Archives. Every name recalled, every note in the margins, every personal recollection adds depth to the historical record. To that end, we invite you to help us continue this tradition of collaborative memory-making. You can be part of the next chapter, just as those readers were in 1969.
