ABSTRACT
Among my most treasured "flashbulb" memories is one associated with my first encounter with Roger Brown. It was a hot summer day in Minneapolis, a little over 20 years ago. The setting was a classroom at the Institute for Child Development and Roger was giving a lecture on language development for a group of mostly graduate students. Early in the session the excited shouts and squeals from the children's playground outside threatened to drown out the lecture altogether. Finally, in a dramatic showdown, Roger confronted the problem headon. Half turning toward the open window, he scowled fiercely and uttered a sotto voce "shut-up." Then, grinning impishly at the class, he resumed his lecture in a stentorian voice. It seems symbolic to me that Roger's instinctive choice in this episode was to adapt his approach to fit the children's voices. At the same time, he displayed the classic ambivalence of the serious scientist toward inconvenient input.
