| I met “Professor Brener” as an undergraduate psychology student at the University of Hull, when he was Chair of the department. I didn’t really get to know him until my senior year as an undergraduate, when I enrolled in his psychophysiology seminar. To describe his mentorship at that time as a life-changing experience for me would be an unfair understatement. I had grown up in England in a caring working-class family, the youngest of 5 children, and the first to attend university. The academic world had always been intimidating to me, weighted by the British class system that still prevailed in the 1970s. During my junior years as an undergraduate, I was afraid to speak in seminars because I felt so unworthy compared to most of my fellow students. My first glimmer of confidence that I was not the “northern idiot” came from my exam results in the so-called “Part-One” exams at the end of my second year as an undergraduate. But it was Jasper Brener, in the following year, who became the most pivotal point in my life. I cannot overstate how important Jasper was then, and became to me, as both a mentor and a friend for whom I have always retained the greatest gratitude and respect. It was not simply how engaging Jasper was as a teacher and mentor; it was his ability to make learning fun, his love of learning, his complete lack of judgment about a person’s background, and his joy of life that were inspiring, if not intoxicating. Jasper was an academic genius and a courageous trailblazer, unafraid of social conventions and committed to the higher callings of teaching and excellence in research. When I graduated from the University of Hull, Jasper took me on as a graduate student studying for a PhD in psychophysiology. His mentorship, support, and friendship were inseparable and always confidence-inspiring. When challenged by tasks beyond my ability, Jasper was there to help and support, never judging or being dismissive. In the emotional turmoil of girlfriends and breakups, Jasper was there to provide support and guidance — as was Rosie, unquestionably the true love of Jasper’s life. Without Rosie, I don’t think Jasper would have been the man I knew, respected, and loved as a mentor and friend — an unfading inspiration throughout my life, as I have tried to emulate the non-judgmental support and caring for others that he extended to me. It was, and is, not my intention to make these remarks concerning Jasper about me and my life. But it is only by sharing the way in which he not only touched my life but also changed it for the better that I can express what a special man he was and my gratitude to him. Without belaboring his international origins and history, he became close academic research friends with Professor Paul A. Obrist at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill while serving as a Professor at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, TN, USA. Obrist was also a cardiovascular psychophysiology researcher, with both of them helping to push the boundaries of a new field in the 1970s. While I was in my final year as a graduate student at the University of Hull, Paul Obrist visited Jasper and presented a brilliant seminar. I knew right away that the next stage of my research development was to be mentored by Dr. Obrist in the USA. It was Jasper who made that wish become a reality, and I moved to Chapel Hill, NC, in September 1982 to work and learn under the mentorship of Paul Obrist, a wonderful researcher, academic, and compassionate human being. Like Jasper, Paul was not only a mentor but also a dear friend. Sadly, in 1984, he developed a life-threatening illness and passed away in 1987. I remained on the faculty at UNC Chapel Hill for 11 years, often seeking Jasper’s guidance (by then he was Chair of Psychology at SUNY Stony Brook), and ultimately his guidance on whether I should accept a faculty position at Duke University, where I had already been collaborating with another outstanding researcher, Dr James A. Blumenthal. Through it all, Jasper remained the steady hand I returned to for guidance. I am now 70 years old. On every birthday while a graduate student with Jasper, I told him it was my birthday, and he gave me my favorite gift: a humorous account of what he was doing when he was my age. In a few days, after 32 years at Duke, highlighted by the mentorship and friendship of yet another wonderful colleague and friend, Jim Blumenthal, I will retire on June 30th, 2026, and continue my research as Professor Emeritus at Duke. The point of my story cannot be overstated. I have had an amazingly enjoyable and productive career, undoubtedly due to the belief in me and the selfless support of Jasper Brener. I last saw Jasper when he and Rosie came by our home in Chapel Hill, on the return leg of a road trip from New York to Tennessee. I probably embarrassed him by expressing my effusive gratitude for the life he was responsible for making possible for me. Jasper and Rosie were just the same, eternal lovers, and wonderful fun guests. I feel that the world is a lesser place without Jasper. But he will live forever in my heart, as a respected mentor, dear friend, and the most fun-filled Professor on the planet. Thank you, Jasper, for believing in me and helping me believe in myself. |
“Letter to Jasper” by Andrew Sherwood
jasperbrenermemorial 