The Alumni Magazine for Worcester Polytechnic Institute. (WPI)
Issue link: http://wpialumnimag.epubxp.com/i/406282
Fall 2014 49 news from HIGGINS HOUSE countries, eventually making their way to Finland, where they stayed for about a year. Several of Laasberg's friends were not so lucky and were later captured. This was one of the vivid stories that Laas- berg—a supporter of WPI until his death this past April at age 91—liked to tell, says his friend Villu Tari, president of the Boston Estonian Society. "His stories defnitely stood out—not only because of his knowledge but also because of his memory," he says. "He was able to recall names, and dates, and days of the week from things happening 50, 60, 70 years ago." Eventually, Laasberg made his way to the United States, where he settled in Worcester and became a distinguished biochemist and an assistant professor at Harvard Medical School. But he never forgot the years of depri- vation and hardship during the war. "It was a trait of Lembit to create a family around him- self," says Tari. "If you gave him support, he would give it back to you 100 times more— that's the way his world worked." The latest evidence of his generosity came last year, when Laasberg donated $100,000 to WPI to found a lecture series in the biotechnology department. "He wanted to make an impact in the future, and through his generosity, individuals will be empow- ered," says dean of arts and sciences Karen Oates, who met with Laasberg last year. "After speaking with him, I now better understand his forward thinking and his ability to see the power of biotechnology to make the future better for others." Education had been key to reversing Laas- berg's own misfortunes during the war. He and his wife didn't stay long in Finland be- fore they moved to Sweden. By a quirk of ancestry, Laasberg was descended from Aus- trians who, during the Thirty Years' War (1618–1648), had once helped the king of Sweden, he later told Tari, and by Swedish law free education was given at certain uni- versities founded by Swedish monarchy to anyone who could prove that their ancestors served or fought for the Swedish king, no matter how long ago. Laasberg took full advantage of that op- portunity to study chemistry and engineer- ing at Swedish universities, eventually leav- ing in the late 1950s for Canada to do graduate work in immunology and immu- nochemistry at McGill. Finally, he came to the United States, where he continued ad- vanced studies at Harvard, Tufts, and MIT in areas of physiology, pharmacology, and spec- troscopy. He joined the faculty at Harvard Medical School and served as director of anesthesia research at Beth Israel Hospital, authoring some 50 scientifc papers. Despite his success, however, he never lost sight of the importance of family and com- munity. Living in the Worcester area, he and Irene were active in the Boston Estonian Society, and frequently entertained at their home, where Laasberg insisted on cooking whenever anyone came over. "He always had a table full of food—even when I showed up unannounced, which I tried to do," says Tari, who spoke at Laasberg's funeral this past April. "If I came from an invitation, we'd spend all day around the table eating and having conversations about everything life brings along." Laasberg cooked simple but tasty German- infuenced Estonian dishes—heavy on meat, potato, and cabbage—and always made sure everyone's wine glass was full. "He knew the value of relationships of family and friends," says Tari. "He really cherished those rela- tionships and made everyone feel welcome at his house." Laasberg was particularly close to his uncle Oskar and his cousin Tamara (Oskar's daughter), who both worked at AstraZeneca Pharmaceuticals in Worcester. Oskar had lost his wife due to illness prior to the war, and at one point had gotten separated from Tamara, as well, when they escaped from Germany to Italy. Sitting in a refugee camp in Italy as thousands of people displaced by war passed by with all their belongings, Ta- mara spotted her father among them—a one-in-a-million chance reunion. "From that point on," says Tari, "they were pretty much holding hands until he died." After Irene died in 2001, Laasberg moved to Tamara's home. His cousin later suffered from Alzheimer's disease and Laasberg cooked and cleaned for her and oversaw her medication. Even after friends prevailed upon him to place her in a nursing home, he continued to visit her for several hours each day. When Tamara passed away in 2012 at the age of 98, Laasberg invited his col- leagues from Harvard to her funeral. Despite his pride at being part of the Harvard community, however, Laasberg was even more proud of living in Worcester. "He was sort of a Worcester patriot," says Tari, who lives in Chelmsford. "After Tamara passed away, I once offered for him to move into my house, and he said no. He loved Worcester." Introduced to WPI through history profes- sor Leena Osteraas, a friend of Tamara, he felt that he could have more impact with a dona- tion to WPI than to one of the institutions he had attended. In addition to funding the bio- technology lecture series, he set aside funds in his estate to endow the Oskar E. Lasberg, Tamara D. Lasberg, Lembit H. Laasberg, and Irene L. Laasberg Scholarship Fund. It is the perfect legacy for Laasberg, tying together his generosity with the love of home, education, and family. "He was an old-class man, in the best sense I can de- scribe it," says Tari. "Given the life he'd been through with hardships and losing family during the war, he knew how fragile those connections are, and he held onto them. There is defnitely something to learn from in that." — Michael Blanding " It was a trait of Lembit to create a family around himself," says Tari. "If you gave him support, he would give it back to you 100 times more."