Dr. Leo Jules Hirth

Dr. Leo Jules Hirth

Dr. Leo Jules Hirth died peacefully at 94 at his home in Tallahassee, Florida, a man with a big heart who had a long and happy life. Beloved by daughters Carol Hirth and Diane Hirth Murdock and grandsons Tyler Murdock and Alex Hirth, as well as many other family members and friends, he kept his sense of humor, his caring for people to the end. Married to Marjorie for 62 years, he loved her dearly until her death in 2010. He and his sons-in-law, Jim Jacobs and Peter Murdock, learned to love and respect each other. "I am a lucky man," Leo would say. "I have had a wonderful life."

At Auburn University where he taught for over 30 years, Professor Hirth was known for engaging with and advising his students. His signature move was holding up his wallet in class to say, "This is what it's all about!" He wanted students to understand that being good at engineering calculations was not enough, they had to make it in the real world. Instrumental in raising the caliber of chemical engineering at Auburn, he helped create its PhD program. He became a Basore Professor, a winner of the Birdsong award for teaching excellence, a fellow in the American Society of Chemical Engineers and later a Professor Emeritus. Joe Barth, a former student, endowed a chemical engineering scholarship in both their names.

He was also Leo the Lion who taught his daughters important things like the correct way to eat lox, bagels and cream cheese with plenty of raw onion, and how to make a traditional ice cream soda as well as a mean gin and tonic, while also convincing them to make him pecan pie. He was a generous family man, who always told he loved us, asked to be rewarded with a kiss, and celebrated all the special occasions of life with us.

His parents, Gussie Kalchman and Harry Hirth, were young when they emigrated from Eastern Europe to the New York City area at the turn of the last century. He was especially close to his mother who encouraged his education and his older sisters Florence and Tess who spoiled him. Leo always appreciated and respected women for their beauty and their intelligence - a great trait for a father of two daughters. A good student, he graduated from New Utrecht High School, winning the highest award for history and earning a Regents scholarship to City College. After college, he was drafted into the Army during World War II. He said he was in the best shape of his life in those days, boot camp by day and dancing all night. Lt. Hirth helped supervise trains carrying wounded soldiers to hospitals across the country. Then as he waited in Los Angeles to be shipped out to the final battle with Japan, the war ended. "They heard I was coming and surrendered,' he would say.

He met Marjorie Collier at University of Texas in Austin, both returning to school on the GI bill. Neither had been to Texas before. At a student dance "Leo looks lonely," said a friend of Marge, and they danced as "Some Enchanted Evening" played. Dad was pretty smooth with his moves, keeping her purse in his pocket so she'd return to him after dancing with other guys. As they dated, Marge invited Leo to come with friends to the big Texas/Oklahoma game in Dallas. "No, I can't. I have to study," Leo said. "You're an idiot," said his roommate. So he called her back and the rest, as they say, is history. They married on June 16, 1948 -- he serious and handsome with his dark hair, she beautiful in a pale blue suit and pearls.

Even into his early 80s, Dad remained infected with the dancing bug and could outlast most men and women on the dance floor. He learned to sail and captained a fast Thistle sailboat, "Leo's Luff," on Lake Martin, Alabama. Changing with and anticipating the future, he welcomed the first women into chemical engineering in the 1970s. He and Marge enjoyed life in a small southern college town: going to football games, college plays and bringing together the Jewish community, first connecting with students in Hillel, then helping start the first congregation in Auburn, Temple Beth Shalom. Throughout his life, with seriousness and passion, Leo consistently offered advice, and often help, to young people, including his daughters, nephews, nieces, grandsons, students and friends.

He was a storyteller. There were his tales of Shaunessey, the Irish setter he brought home to his young wife: how Shaun got lost and found, how Shaun shared Carol's toast, how Shaun got really sick and couldn't eat or drink. His boss sent Leo home from work because he couldn't concentrate until he figured out how to make liver broth and pour it down Shaun's throat with a Coke bottle. Later in life, he called himself an "old fossil' and a "comical engineer" and always thanked everyone who helped him, repeatedly. Dad especially admired and appreciated Renee Patterson, his main caregiver for six years. They were friends - laughing, talking, teasing and enjoying each's company, even on what turned out to be his final day.

Leo Hirth is in our hearts, and we will forever celebrate him, his rich and varied life full of the love, and the joy he gave us.