Date: Thu, 21 Jan 99 11:12:55 CST From: Clive Dawson To: js-cgi@inwap.com Subject: Greetings... Hi Joe, I was just enjoying your PDP-10 website after not visiting it in a while. I noticed that for some reason you don't have a copy of a story I wrote 15 years ago, "The Soul of an Old Machine". I'm enclosing it below, and would be happy to contribute it to your collection. If the famous "book" project ever gets anywhere, this story was going to be used as the Epilogue. Cheers, Clive Dawson Austin, TX =========Cut here========== THE SOUL OF AN OLD MACHINE Clive B. Dawson (C) 1984 I started work for the University Computation Center in 1975 as a systems programmer for the DEC-10, just a couple of months after it arrived on campus. My previous experience with a DEC-10 had ended when I graduated from Stevens Tech. Since then, I had spent four rather painful years doing graduate work on a CDC 6600 system for which I had to learn how to keypunch again. I welcomed the arrival of the 10 with the joy of someone being released from prison. I can't begin to count the hours I spent on that system--well over 10,000 connect hours-- developing software for it, fixing bugs, and helping users. In turn, it helped produce dissertations for both my wife and me, and was an endless source of fun and relaxation as well. (It was also responsible for extending my graduate school career by at least four years!) The KI processor had served the campus well for seven and a half years. Now the user population was drifting over to the two new DEC-20's, and it was only a matter of time before the rising maintenance costs could no longer be justified. A flurry of last-minute rescue efforts followed the announcement that the system would have to be shut down. It seemed incomprehensible that a perfectly good machine would be removed from service given the chronic state of saturation common to most computer systems on most university campuses. The efforts failed, and on October 31, 1982, the DECsystem-10 at the University of Texas at Austin was turned off for the last time. The event did not pass without due ceremony. We held a farewell party on that Halloween Sunday, well attended by current and ex staff members as well as a few users. Many brought cameras to record a vanishing breed--they don't make 'em with lights anymore. In one of the stranger moments we cranked up the PTP: and had paper tape (might as well use it up) and scratch magtape draped all over the place. The laughing and joking helped. Many of us on the staff had built up an extremely close-knit group over the years which had slowly drifted apart as new machines and new responsibilites came along. This "wake" had a good cathartic effect, bringing us together at a time when we needed to share feelings that had hit us harder than we might have cared to admit. I wondered about the users--all the faceless people scattered througout dozens of small offices and terminal rooms throughout the campus--the complete opposite of our small, close-knit staff. Were they feeling the same emotions? If so, who could each of them share with? At home very late that night, I felt the urge to dial up one last time. As I went through my normal routine of checking mail, the Bboard, and the various system mailboxes, I discovered something completely unexpected. During the last few hours users had logged in and sent mail to the bboard and to other system mailboxes like Operator. The curious thing is that these people had no way of knowing that anybody would ever be around to read these messages. They were, in the best way they knew how, sharing their feelings directly with the machine. Some of the messages are reproduced here as I found them, with only the senders' names altered. . From: R. B. . Subject: Dec10 . To: GRIPE Farewell DEC10 and thank you! . From: [4435,244] . Subject: The death of a friend . To: Bboard Goodbye, DEC-10, you've been a great friend and co-worker. I'm going to miss you for a long time. I feel worse than when they killed Hal in 2001. . From: B. J. . Subject: November the 2 is too late . To: Bboard it feels like this is the end of an old friend. who says computers haven't got any personality? . From: GVCE333 . Subject: Good-Bye old paint . To: Bboard The glue factory beckons... Sigh! . From: [1276,1] . Subject: Good-bye, DEC-10 . To: Bboard As a well-spent day bring happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death. Leonardo Da Vinci, 1452-1519 Notebooks [c. 1500] DEC-10, you've been a good and faithful (for the most part) servant and companion. Farewell. . From: BSAB553 . Subject: bye . To: GRIPE This is last "bye" to the DEC 10; too bad. I liked the DEC 10 better than the DEC 20. I find it hard to believe that this system could not have been supported to some extent... So long forever! . From: LSDT141 . Subject: Bye . To: OPERATOR BYE BYE FAITHFUL FRIEND - THE DEC-10 . From: C . Subject: Farewell . To: Operator Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, rage against the dying of the light... The next day, one more message appeared on the DEC-20 Bboard: Date: 1 Nov 1982 2133-CST From: P.M. Subject: the death of the dec-10 To: bboard I was there till the bitter end. First, the one or two faithful logged on via the micom were detached and automatically logged off. As the only telephone hook-up, I was privileged to be at his side a little longer. I fondly reread the last farewells of those who had cared enough to write a bboard message. Then I, too, was detached and logged off. But even then the DEC-10 lingered on. Systat and help functioned for several more minutes until the operator sent the last message I or anyone will ever receive from the DEC-10: Time sharing is over permanently! Good-bye. The stone has been rolled in front of the grave, my friends. The DEC-10 is no more. --------------------------------------- About six months later in St. Louis I heard DEC announce the end of the 36-bit systems. I wondered then how many times in the next few years the events told here would be repeated. Recently I had occasion to visit the machine room where the old KI had stood. On one side of the room was a shiny new VAX 11/780. The other side of the room had boxes of IBM PC's stacked to the ceiling. Someday these machines would be old too. But somehow I knew that they would never have a day for themselves like Halloween of 1982. They don't make 'em with souls anymore. ----------------