ABSTRACT
When I first met Dr. Thomas F. Mancuso in the fall of 1977, he was poring over
computer print-outs in his small, cluttered L-shaped office at the University
of Pittsburgh.
Spry, with a trim mustache and horn-rimmed glasses, Mancuso’s passion for
data collection often compelled him to bring his work home. Despite his efforts to
transform his large spacious home into a research archive, Mancuso’s wife, Rae,
kept the place spotless. Occasionally, data would be strewn on the dining room
table, but most of the records were kept in dozens of filing cabinets in the
basement, like a highly guarded treasure.
