I only recently found this site.  I worked with Jurrie at Caltech in the 1970’s.  I thought he was a great guy,  Very sorry to hear of his passing.  If his son reads this, I would like to meet him on my next trip to Pasadena.  I can be reached at:
mln@AltairSeven.com.


You have been on my mind for some time now and now I know why.  We always had that connection.  I will cherish our time together and all of the funny times we shared.  Thank you for sharing your stories and experiences with me. Uncle Tak passed on Oct 27 so now you two can ham it up together again. JPL isn't the same w/o you. Teriko

I still have that little book on Einstein that you gave me. It sits on my desk and I think of you often. You were such a character Jurrie! Thank you for making me laugh.

Jurrie, your stories always made me laugh. You lit up the office when you walked in.

Jurrie,
God hebbe je ziel, goede vriend!
Je was onze JLB-maat, onze vliegmaat, wat hebben we goede tijden gehad en gekend. Mogen we elkaar in het hiernamaals weer terugzien dan gaan we op dezelfde voet verder waar we gebleven waren en weer luchtvaartmaten zijn tot in eeuwigheid.
Tom Vluggen, Amstelveen, Holland.

As many of you know, Dad's pride and joy was his moustache.  But what you may not know is that he was also an amateur tinkerer. He loved mechanical things, opening them up, inspecting them, and reassembling them. Sometimes he was good at this. Other times he was a klutz. 
Once, when he returned from his first trip to Japan, he brought home an array of gadgets Hitachi and Sony. There were cameras, electric shavers, and really advanced cameras for the time. But he seemed most eager to get at a small, 400 yen item shaped, more or less, like a shotgun slug. It had a clear, plastic cap on one end, and on/off switch on its side. Turning it on produced a frantic, electrical whirring reminiscent of furious bees. It was a nose hair trimmer. The latest in de rigeur luxury items from 1980s Japan.
Well, before giving it a test drive, Dad had to know about the guts of this marvelous little engine he had the foresight to acquire. So out came his little modeling tools: jeweler's screwdrivers, a dentist's pick, tiny forceps, and so forth. Meticulously, he unscrewed this and pried open that, peering over his nose through his readers and sticking out the tip of his tongue, as he always did when engaged in fine mechanical work, like he did when drawing.
I was watching him through my peripheral vision, but I said nothing. The next thing I knew was that a tiny "boing" erupted from his hands and we both watched a small part from his little machine describe a graceful arc into the kitchen. A spring? A metal plate? Who knows? He got up, searched for it, but came back empty handed. 
Anyway, within minutes he had reassembled the thing and disappeared into the bathroom with it. I heard it click on, heard the mad whirring sound wind up again, then heard a blood curdling scream emanate from him. 
When I got there, Dad was bent over the sink with tears streaming from his eyes. Moreover, he held the little trimmer very delicately near his nose, but wouldn't pull it away. And that's because he couldn't. 
It seems the missing part he decided to ignore was some kind of guide plate that pushed his nasal follicles precisely onto the whirling blades. Without it, however, the spinning head didn't cut the hairs, it wrapped them up instantly into a painful braid that was now stuck on his trimmer inside his nose. 
And if any of you recall, there was almost no distinction between the ends of Dad's nose hairs and the start of his whiskers. Between his nose and upper lip was a jungle of hairs.
He was trapped. No way to untangle that damn thing. No way to remove the trimmer without yanking every hair from his sinus cavity to his frontal lobe.
In the end, it wasn't pretty. I think his proboscis dripped for a week. His eyes certainly watered up for hours afterwards. 
You should've seen how quickly he became disaffected with that miserable little thing from Japan. It was priceless.

To everyone who has checked in on this site to share memories of Dad, thank you! Thank you for your wonderful anecdotes and insights on the Dutchman. He really was an original, wasn't he?
Also to the Deats clan, the girls and I owe you a huge thank you for setting up this site. Thank you Uncle Dave, Aunt Marna, and Joe so much.
We're all hanging in there. But like you, it's been half a year and Dad's absence is still an emotional Grand Canyon for all of us. 
Promise: I'll share a funny story about him next time. Cheers everybody.

Uncle Jurrie. Was my favorite Uncle. Jur stories were always very beautiful.And we had a good laugh when he went to Netherlands.My dear uncle R.I.P. and i miss you every day.  Norman Sao Paulo Brasil

in late 1985, jurrie convinced me to come over to pasadena in january 1986 on the occasion of the voyager encounter with uranus. i was a 
young, inexperienced astronomy writer with little money. jurrie offered me a guest room in his house. he did that again in august 1989, when voyager 2 flew past neptune. he introduced me to the 'real' world of planetary exploration. we had a lot of fun. too bad he couldn't witness the new horizons encouter with pluto!

Jurrie enhanced the image of JPL to millions of people, and he brought the warmth and delight of his personality to those who were fortunate enough to know him personally.  A true friend.

E Myles Standish Jr
Seneca, SC

He left this world a better place than he found it. His humanity and integrity were literally phenomenal, and his sense of humor was an absolute delight.  I have had a picture of Jurrie with his hand on his forehead looking stupefied at a television that showed the explosion of "Challenger." What character! Now there is a hole in my life.

                                                                     William E. Burrows
                                                                     Westport, CT

Jurrie's mind was a sort of Ali Baba & 40 Thieves cave filled not with pirated gold but stories -- wonderful, wonderful stories. I just recalled one of my favorites.

It happened on the Caltech Campus where Jurrie worked before moving up the Arroyo to the Lab and involved a professor, Tom Ahrens, studying the cratering impact of high-speed meteors on simulated lunar surfaces.

Jurrie's office was on the third floor of the building at the corner of California and Wilson Avenues, looking east down California; Ahrens lab was a long tunnel in the basement. There he had set up a 4-inch naval gun at one end -- with a large steel spike mimicking the meteor -- and, at the other end, various composites mimicking the lunar surface.

Every time a new model of the lunar surface was to be struck with the spike, klaxons sounded, doors into the tunnel were locked, red warning lights whirled and then -- KRUMP! -- the gun would be fired.

For a 4-inch gun, it packed a wallop; Jurrie said the building shuddered every time it was fired. And safety was as important, post-firing, as it was pre-firing. There was a check list of concerns to be addressed before the tunnel was re-opened and the target examined. 

But Ahrens basement experiments didn't seem to be replicating the real lunar craters that could be seen from Earth and so Ahrens got a second 4-inch naval gun and hooked it up in tandem with the first. If you wanted a very, very high-speed projectile, this was your baby.

And so the day came when Ahrens fired up the super-gun. Jurrie said the blast was heard  and felt  over much of the campus. But the recovery phase was strangely not as prompt as it usually was.

Jurrie said he first heard a mumble of voices and footsteps coming up the stairwell from the basement, both getting louder as they reached the third floor. It was Ahrens and his team asking if they could look out Jurrie's window on California Avenue. Using their hands as sight-guides, they were guess-timating how close the tunnel came to the north side of California Avenue.

They then descended to street level and began walking along the avenue, closely scrutinizing both sidewalk and street, the planted areas on the campus and then went down to the basement of the next building to the east. Jurrie, by now intrigued as to what was going on, tagged along. 

Turned out, Jurrie said, that when the researchers took down the target, they didn't find the spike behind it, on the floor. Instead, they found a hole in the concrete wall the same diameter as the spike.

And when they went into the room on the other side, a utilities room, there was no spike. But there was another hole of approximately the right size on the far wall of that, the second, room. But the spike wasn't found there either. 

Jurrie said the spike never was found.

Jurrie,

First off, I miss you terribly.  You meant so very much too me and that just grew & grew over the 28 years that we knew each other.  I looked up to you as a genius & loved you as a human being.  My thoughts often go back to our adventures.  Rest in peace dear friend.

Nel

How fortunate I was to share so much with Jurrie- an office, a love of tall tales, a pride for JPL/Cal Tech- our birthdays even landed on the same day. Whether Indonesia real estate, Birds of War, the colors of Voyager/Cassini, India's NASA art show, his WWII and Nazi close encounters, the love of his family, colleagues at work...spending a day with Jurrie was riding on a long sentence...most of us never wanted to get off. A neverland of exotic, whimsical facts and trivia...whether caretaking a rare piece of history or an abandoned squirrel, Jurrie was filled with heart.
A legend in his own time. Welterusten, my dear friend. We'll miss you.

I recall Jurrie with great fondness during my years at JPL. What first pops to mind is how Jurrie and Charlie Kohlhase would go around and around about the precise color balance on the Cassini Saturn system images! Their mutual dedication to scientific accuracy and photographic perfection was not always in agreement, though Jurrie would keep trying and always delivered the most "stellar" images to the outreach team when and where they were needed. I would ask him for several slide sets and prints on behalf of teachers, young students, and for special events, at which point Jurrie would gruffly scowl, fold his arms, and firmly tell me there was no way could he provide that many handouts or photo sets, not for one more school... I would then find what I asked for +1 extra (!) on my desk or in JPL mail the next morning. 

Jurrie's stories about being a boy in the Netherlands during WWII and the Nazi occupation were chilling, but also, surprisingly funny. Like the time "certain boys" innocently collected a bunch of pretty little red flags stuck in the ground... that marked a safe path for German soldiers across a field they had just mined. The Nazi's suspected sabotage, instead of young boys innocently stealing little flags for their "fort." 

I could always spot Jurrie in a crowd at JPL by looking for his amazing handle-bar mustache. He lived an adventurous, productive, good-hearted life punctuated by occasional mischief. 

Farewell, Jurrie! I will not forget you.

A mother grizzly protecting her cubs was a push-over compared to Jurrie protecting the first photos of a planet 
or its moons coming out of JPL's photo lab. News media, especially on deadline, had priority -- but that meant nothing to space enthusiasts who were at Von Karman for the encounter. They'd beg, demand, plead or cajole Jurrie for copies for their ( ) kids, ( ) nephews/nieces or ( ) relatives in Patagonia. But the Dutchman never wavered. "No," he'd respond with a firmness that made granite seem like jelly. "I've only got enough (copies) for the news media. You'll have to wait until we can turn out lithos for the general public." And wait they would. Farewell, old friend and colleague.

Jurrie could do virtually anything, and offer sage (mostly) advice about any remaining items.  I first met him when I was a grad student of Bruce Murray's in the late 60's.  Among other things he was our group's guru on all things related to photography - real photography, with film and developing and stuff, that was still the gold standard at that time, even though our spacecraft were sending pictures as 1's and 0's by then. He was also a great mentor for the students, with tips on how to actually get things done in the Caltech system and always up for tall tales about flying F104's for the Dutch air force with NATO.  These included putting beer in supposedly empty wing tanks to take to remote bases and flame-outs at 20,000 ft over the Channel.  Mr. Putin would think twice about trying anything if Jurrie and his buddies were still patrolling the skies.

When I was at JPL later and working on the Voyager and Galileo missions we saw a different side of Jurrie - an innovative pioneer in getting the science story contained in planetary images out to the public.  During those years the press and education communities demanded high quality 35 mm slides, glossy prints and reams of lithographs, and Jurrie was the guy that saw that they got them.  Nobody (including JPL Directors) would dare to let loose of a press release photo without Jurrie's say so.

 One of my favorite memories is of working with Jurrie and Larry Soderblom to generate photo montages from Voyager images to 'sell' to the editors at Science to use as covers for our '30 day reports' (never really on time, but close sometimes).  They still show up all over the Internet as iconic emblems of the Voyager mission.

Finally, Jurrie was a pioneer in the development of ways to get digital copies of space photographs preserved and available, scraping together scarce resources for the task while the Internet was still in it's infancy.  What you see when you click on the Photojournal on a JPL or NASA site still bears his mark.

He was a great colleague, dedicated to sharing the beauty of space exploration with the world, and mostly just a wonderful guy.  We will all miss him greatly.

In the days before the Internet, Jurrie was Facebook, Flickr, Dropbox, Picasa, TwitPic and Tumblr - all rolled into one truly great human being.  

When the world's media gathered at JPL for a landing or an encounter, Jurrie held us at bay with the discipline of a drill-sergeant - then soothed us with his stories and his bonhomie.  He was a dedicated public servant and a great friend.

N fheicfimid a mhacasamhail go brch ars. {We shall never look upon his like again}

Leo Enright
Irish TV

I've had the fabulous honor of knowing and working with Jurrie at JPL. I started as a student and learned so much from him. He was a work Dad to me. He would draw me something funny and leave it by desk. He would know when I was stressed and he would give me a neck-shoulder massage! He left me with many great stories and fond memories. He was a very compassionate man. Your legend will live on. Rest in peace friend. Xo

I had the pleasure of knowing Jurrie throughout my JPL and Voyager career.as I was frequently in his office seeking copies of the press releases for use of UK TV programmes. He guarded these pictures like the Crown Jewels they were but then always gave me copies as required. Jurrie was a delight to work with and it was a pleasure to have been able to share the excitement of the space programme results with him. Thank you Jurrie for your friendship and RIP.

Jurrie was always kind, helpful and funny. On several occasions he would call me up and share some cool space art opportunity that he thought I should know about. I mainly knew him from many telephone conversations since I was in Houston, but I counted him as friend.

The moment I shall always remember was a staff holiday potluck, Randii Wessen and Jurrie. Two guys always looking to one up each other.  This holiday party Jurrie wore a kilt. And Randii found duct tape and a mirror, taped mirror on his shoe and went up to Jurrie to find out just what a man wears under his kilt.  I still hear them both howling with laughter.  What a character.

Jurrie was a gentleman, a man's man, a woman's man, a wonderful guy who made us all laugh, especially at ourselves. He lived his life with such vigor and joy and commitment to the people and projects that mattered to him. My head is filled with captivating stories Jurrie told me. My life is so much richer having known him. Michelle, Michenou, Mark, Monique, you lucked out in the dad category. My thoughts are with you at your  loss.

It was a pleasure knowing Jurrie, he was a real character. As a boy I enjoyed his visits to my home because of the story's he would tell. I wish his family love and comfort in this difficult time. God speed Jurrie, you get to see the stars now like never before.

Having worked closely with Jurrie in the Public Affairs Office for many years, what I remember most about him were his stories (of course), his laughter, his smile, and his caring for others.  But most memorable is the letter he wrote to the astronauts of the first shuttle landing (Bob Crippen and John Young) to ask them to autograph a photo of the Shuttle for George's 13-year old son, Greg, who was in the hospital with cancer.  Jurrie ultimately tracked down Crippen and Young when they were visiting Rockwell in Downey and got their autographs.  They wrote on the photo Courage comes in many forms; we admire yours.  George's son treasured this autographed photo, and we have it today, all these years later, hanging in our home.  Thank you Jurrie for all the wonderful times we shared at JPL. 
Betty & George Shultz

Sorry to hear of Jurrie's passing. He was an amazing guy, and I always enjoyed working with him during mission press conferences at JPL. He will be missed!

One of the legends of space exploration has left the Earth. I came to know Jurrie as the absolute ruler of the press images for JPL during the Voyager encounters with Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, and I'm proud to say I was able to call him friend. He was unquestionably a larger-than-life character, one of the best storytellers I ever encountered, and the keeper of irreplaceable memories of JPL and Caltech. 
I have to confess responsibility for one thing: Back in the olden days, Jurrie was so taken by my husband's handlebar moustache that he grew his own. A few years later, he was dismayed to see that my husband had let the original inspiration be subsumed by a beard, and Jurrie vowed never to let that happen to his pride and joy.
To say good-bye to my friend, I take the liberty of paraphrasing T. S. Eliot, Not fare well, but fare forward, Voyager.

Deepest sympathy to all the family. I worked with Jurrie at JPL for many years. He taught me so much and always had a big smile, a gleam in his eyes and a story to share. I feel fortunate to have had him as a friend!

I am so saddened to hear of Jurrie's passing.  He was a great volunteer, tremendous story teller and a dear friend.  It was my honor to know him and he will be greatly missed.
Cindy DeLaurell

Randii Wessen loved you and working with you.  I enjoyed watching the two of you play, love the planets, and share your passion for NASA and JPL.  You saw the change from print images, before the WWW to digital.  Tears for our loss, joy for the years of knowing you.  Farewell friend.

Jurrie,

I will always remember my public affairs with you.  You were the heart and soul of PAO. You will be missed.

- Randii Wessen

What a terrific guy! The world is richer from his time with us.

Jurrie was a man of out of this world vision.  He supported the JPL Radio Club during the hectic Viking Landings and Voyager encounters with Jupiter and Saturn with all his heart.  This was out of the mainstream PR world, but he recognized the wonderful benefits to JPL and NASA of connecting one-on-one with ham radio operators around the world.  He even helped us work through the chaos after an announcement by Paul Harvey after the Viking Landing when Paul announced on his morning show at 6am Eastern Time: "Hey, all you who have a junk TV in the basement.  Do you know you can receive pictures from Mars?  Contact your local NASA Center for details!"  By the time we got to work at 8am Pacific Time, every NASA Center switchboard nationwide was jammed.  He really reached OUT OF THIS World to help us work through that one and to connect with the world.  His exceptional enthusiasm was fantastic.  It was a real treat to work with him.  His insight will be sorely missed.

What sad, sad news -- about a man who was always cheer  personified -- his laughter was infectious; as soon as you heard him chuckling about something, you knew he'd soon have you laughing too. His surname was constantly misspelled, mispronounced or just mangled by people Out There -- the best (i.e. worst) was the European space enthusiast who wrote to him, seeking lithos from some mission and addressed the letter to Yuri Floundergut. RIP, old Floundergut, RIP.

Best second dad I ever had.  Love to the entire family during this difficult time.  I'll never forget rushing down from Marc's bedroom drawn by the screening excitement of Jurrie only to discover a PBS story on the wonders of Spiders and Jurrie's sheer joy of sharing the moment!   Great memories of a great man! 

Stan Oawster

Mark, Monique and Twins,

Your dad was a special guy we will all miss. He enjoyed life and was was a great friend to many many folks. He will be missed by Marna Joe and me. Be strong and take care of each other. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

There was no one in the world like Jurrie! We all learned so much from him. What a gift, to have known him.

The world is a sadder place without the Dutchman today, but somewhere else he is regaling others with his fantastic stories! Feel happy for them!

Jurrie helped me with my videos by providing photos and invaluable historical information that he related in his own amusing style of wit and intellect. My most heartfelt condolences to his family.
Gary Savona

OBITUARY

Jurrie Johannes van der Woude

June 18, 1935 – March 20, 2015

Oakdale Mortuary & Memorial Park

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