The ringing of the phone tore through the silence of a small hotel room in Washington D.C. and woke Bob Richardson up from his sleep. It was 5 a.m. Richardson picked up the receiver, only to hear an unfamiliar voice speaking in a Swedish accent.

The first thought that crossed his mind was that tragedy had struck his daughter, who was in London at that time.

“I had a vision that [my daughter] Jenny had died and I was talking to a resident in a London hospital.” Richardson recalled. “I was really upset ... Ordinarily you don’t get good news at a 5 a.m. call at a strange hotel.”

It took a while before Richardson, a physics professor at Cornell, realized that he was chosen to receive one of the most prestigious recognition that a scientist can get — the Nobel Prize.

Beautiful Minds: Hans Bethe smiles as he is congratulated by his students the day he received news of his Nobel prize.

Richardson was not the only Cornellian who could recall “the 5 a.m. moment” in great detail. With 32 alumni, former and current faculty members as Nobel Laureates, Cornell’s list of Nobel Laureates is among the longest among all American institutions. Notable members of the list include Toni Morrison M.A. ’55, the late physics professor Hans Bethe, professors emeritus David Lee and Roald Hoffmann, with 2009 Laureate in Physiology or Medicine Jack Szostak ’77 Ph.D. being the latest addition.

The list is mostly dominated by physicists and medical researchers, with 10 winners in each category. Six Cornell chemists, three writers and two economists also won the award, and John Mott ’1888 is the only Cornellian to have won the peace prize, in recognition for his work with the YMCA.

IN THE DEPTHS OF KROCH LIBRARY

Elaine Engst emerged from the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections’s storeroom with a small box in her hand. The director of the division smiled as she carefully opened the box, revealing one of the two authentic Nobel Prize medals in Cornell’s collection. Engst’s hand was slightly weighed down by the medal — made of 18-karat green gold and plated with 24-karat gold — as she removed it from the box and flipped it to show an inscription on its back: “J.B.SUMNER, MCMXLVI.”

Prof. James Sumner, winner of the 1946 prize in chemistry, was not the only Cornellian to donate his medal to the university. In the depths of Kroch library also sits the gold medal awarded to chemistry professor Peter Debye in 1936.

Apart from such items, the Division is also home to two Nobel diplomas donated by Sumner and the physics professor David Lee. The diplomas, however, look markedly different: While the two monochrome cherubs, with laurel wreath in one’s hand, emit an aura of solemnity in Sumner’s chemistry diploma, a flood of watercolors dominates Lee’s certificate, which depicts a painting of flowers in a vase.

But these prized items were only part of an exhibition in 1996, shortly after Lee and Richardson joined the ranks of the Laureates. Engst rolled out two carts, where two small mountains of boxes sat. She opened a flat, rectangular box labeled “Box 36” while noting that this was only one of the hundreds of boxes storing items related to the famous physicist, who is also the namesake of the Hans Bethe House on West Campus.

CONNECTIONS: IT ALL STARTED WITH BETHE

Perhaps it is no accident that Cornell boasts a long string of Nobel Laureates in Physics — Bethe helped to recruit Dale Corson, then a young physicist who later became Cornell’s eighth president. Corson was the person who employed Lee, who later hired Richardson. Lee and Richardson, along with Douglas Osheroff ’73 Ph.D, together discovered the superfluidity of helium-3 that would later win them a Nobel Prize in 1996.

Bethe also recruited a young co-worker from the laboratories of Los Alamos, where the atomic bomb was developed. Richard Feynman was 27 years old when he arrived at Cornell as a professor. It was at Cornell where Feynman got inspiration for his Nobel-winning research on quantum electrodynamics.

“I was in the cafeteria and some guy, fooling around, throws a plate in the air. As the plate went up in the air I saw it wobble, and I noticed the red medallion of Cornell on the plate going around. It was pretty obvious to me that the medallion went around faster than the wobbling,” Feynman wrote in his book “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!”

The “equations of wobbles” that emerged from this casual observation inspired Feynman to conduct further research on quantum electrodynamics, which won him the Nobel Prize in physics in 1965.

Professors, however, do not have a monopoly on Cornell’s Nobel quota. With 11 alumni who later became Nobel Laureates, the East Hill nurtured some of the most influential minds in both the sciences and the arts. Barbara McClintock ’23, who received a Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine for discovering genetic elements that control corn’s physical characteristics, earned all her Bachelor’s, Master’s and Ph.D degrees at Cornell.

Pearl S. Buck, author of The Good Earth and the 1938 recipient of the prize in literature, “foolhardily” entered a history essay contest during her years as a graduate student in English.

“It was foolhardy of me to enter that contest, for it was in the history department and I was majoring in my own field of English literature,” Buck is quoted in a biography. “Then I told my English professor what I had done. ‘You’re mad,’ he said cheerfully. ‘The prize always goes to a history major.’ I tried to remain hopeful, nevertheless.”

A few weeks later, Buck found out that she had won the contest: “The importance to me of this prize was more than money. It gave me confidence as a writer.”

A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD

When asked if Cornell should lure current Nobel Prize winners to Ithaca with generous amounts of money, Richardson said no immediately without any sign of hesitation.

“It’s much better to grow your own,” he remarked with a smile.

Cornell does not earmark generous amounts of money to recruit the big names who have won Nobel Prizes, but the University could be having difficulty in attracting and retaining young assistant professors because of Ithaca’s isolated location. Whenever Cornell recruits a young assistant professor, his or her spouse may have problem finding a job in Ithaca, according to Hoffmann.

Ithaca, however, could also be Cornell’s biggest asset. Richardson, Lee and Hoffmann all got their first jobs at Cornell and remained here for the past 40 years or more. They all cited Ithaca — with its changing autumn colors, lovely gorges, and peace and quiet — as a major reason for their decades-long stay.

“The living condition is ideal — it’s a big university in a small town. It generates enough culture for me,” Hoffmann said.

Since moving into his office 35 years ago, Hoffmann has filled its bare walls with colors from around the world: the bright red of a smiling devil’s mask from Mexico screams for attention and partners the fading blue paints of an old Japanese art, while the refreshing green of a large forest painting brightens up the wall. Leaning back on his chair, with stripes of sunlight passing through the blinds and gently landing on his silver hair, Hoffmann recalled strolling through the Farmers’ Market together with poet and fellow former Cornell professor A.R. Ammons. Hoffmann, who has published five poetry collections himself, noted the ease to interact with fellow faculty members in the humanities.

The late Feynman also wrote in his book that he often talked to people in the psychology department. The young physicist also found the opportunity to learn Spanish at Cornell and later practiced Portuguese with a Portuguese grad student. His language skills paid off when he later visited the Center for Physical Research in Brazil.

Lee has dwelled in Ithaca for half a century. It is at Cornell where he completed his Ph.D thesis, obtained his first job, met his wife in the MVR cafe and conducted his Nobel Prize winning research. But Lee has recently decided to leave Ithaca this month and relocate his home base to Texas, where Texas A&M University offered him funding for research and opportunities to teach.

“It’s difficult for everybody to get research funding [here at Cornell],” Lee said.” Texas offers me a position for research support and the opportunity to teach again. I could be professor instead of emeritus.”

“You want to leave room for young people,” he added.

FROM NOBEL PRIZE TO 101

Go For the Gold: A medal representing the Nobel award is bestowed upon all Nobel laureates.The Nobel Laureates are best known for their scientific achievements, but at Cornell, they also bear another responsibility on their backs: passing their knowledge to the students at Cornell. The two tasks, however, are intertwined with each other like a string of DNA.

Bethe, who taught Cornell physics students for four decades, told the Sun upon his retirement in 1975 that student questions often led him to return to his work, and make new discoveries.

Although the Laureates are qualified to teach the most advanced courses and they do serve as mentors for graduate students, Hoffmann, who has been teaching introductory chemistry for 42 years, said teaching undergraduates gives him the greatest pleasure.

“I really enjoyed the non-verbal feedback from the audience ... if some light goes on in their eyes, that they understand, that I somehow turn on in them the capabilities that are always in them ... what really are we teaching? Facts, yes. But facts are the least important. We’re teaching ways of thinking, ways of connection,” Hoffmann said.

Richardson has also taught 100 and 200-level courses every year for three decades. He then joined the Cornell administration in 1997 as the vice president of research, a position he held for 10 years.

“I actually thought I had a debt to Cornell. I wanted to pay Cornell back,” Richardson said. “It was an opportunity to return Cornell’s investment in me.”

“The Nobel Prize? What’s that?”

In the late 19th Century, Alfred Nobel, who made a fortune from his invention of the dynamite, dictated his wish to establish a prize foundation in his will. The medals and prize money, he wrote, would be awarded to those who have “conferred the greatest benefit on mankind.” For the next century, scientists have set the award as the pinnacle of their achievement and spent countless hours toiling away in the laboratories.

A Clipping of Victory: Newspaper clippings display the achievements of Nobel prize winners at Cornell.So does Cornell treat Nobel Prize winners any differently?

“Somewhat,” Lee said. Cornell gave him a “chair,” or a modest stipend. “Other than that, it’s a very democratic place. It treats us well. And people don’t put us on thrones.”

Although the Nobel Prize is undoubtedly one of the most prestigious award one can achieve, this recognition may not necessarily come with fame.

Back in 1996, Betty Richardson, who also taught at Cornell’s physics department, tried to reach her husband after being awakened by a 5 a.m. call from Sweden when she was sleeping at home in Ithaca. Unable to reach Richardson’s jammed phone line, she talked with the hotel’s switchboard operator.

“Please congratulate him for me,” she told the switchboard operator.

“Why? Did he win the lottery?” The operator asked.

“No, he won the Nobel Prize!”

“What’s that?”

Ask a random person on the street, and chances are he or she cannot name the Nobel Laureates this year apart from Barack Obama, whose peace prize generated much controversy. On the other hand, America is the country with the most Nobel Prize winners — 270, followed the United Kingdom with 100 winners and Germany with 77 Laureates.

In America, Nobel Prize winners are “a dime in a dozen,” Hoffmann said, and due to its culture, “the society will pay no attention to it.”

However, the three Nobel Laureates currently living in Ithaca — Richardson, Lee and Hoffmann — all agreed that they enjoyed the privacy.

Lee concurred: “It’s not like being Elvis Presley or Johnny Cash.”

“We value our private lives, not having the hoopla. It helps you to concentrate on what you’re doing,” Lee added.

Hoffmann also stressed that luck is an important element and many other scientists have produced Nobel-quality works.

“Science is the cult of the new: We publish hundreds of papers every year. Our colleagues read it. They know what is good — they know it right away,” Hoffmann said.

Even though the award does not generate huge fame for the winners among the general public, the Laureates are wary of having people confining them as “Nobel Laureates” and nothing more.

“It’s one of the negative aftereffects of the prize. There is a sense that people want your name but not you. It separates you from your name in a way,” Hoffmann said.

Richardson also said the award was “a major distraction” from his work in the immediate years following. But the prize has also given him more opportunities to travel around — he is in the top tier of his airline’s frequent flyer program, which indicates that he flies more than 100 thousand miles per year.

“It’s given me the opportunity to have a heck lot of fun,” Richardson said.

But when asked to define himself in one line, Richardson said: “Wonderful Physics professor and mentor for graduate students.”

The Prize is conspicuously excluded.