Oxford, Physics, and the Day I Saw Tolkien Summon Henry

As a Merton undergraduate in 1970, I would often see J. R. R. Tolkien wandering around the College in his half-cloak, walking stick in hand. He was already elderly, already legendary, yet physically present: a small, unmistakable figure moving through the same quads I crossed on my way to hall.

A moment I’ll never forget

One day, stepping from my room above the Lodge into Front Quad, I saw Tolkien and Henry—the college maintenance man, usually dressed in brown overalls—entering the Quad at the same moment from the St. Albans and Mob Quad entrances.

Tolkien plainly had business in mind. The instant he caught sight of the handyman, he threw back his head and bellowed, “Henry!”, lifting both arms and his stick high into the air, his cloak flying behind him.

For a fleeting second, he looked less like a retired don and more like some imperious figure from his own mythology, Gandalf summoning aid across a great hall rather than a quiet Oxford quad.

Properly summoned, Henry strode over, and Tolkien calmly explained what needed to be done.