Teller was born Jacob Adam Teller, named after his two grandfathers. Most everyone, though, calls him, simply, “Teller”…with the notable exceptions being a few students, faculty, and professional colleagues who address him, respectfully, as “Dr. Teller.”
Now, given that he was awarded his Ph.D from a Big Ten school in the mid-90s, the moniker “Dr. Teller” is completely accurate and appropriate. It does, however, have a tendency to make Teller cringe just a little bit. After all, when he thinks of Dr. Teller, it’s the Dr. Teller. Edward Teller. That Dr. Teller wrote his dissertation in physics under the direction of Werner Heisenberg, developer of the Uncertainty Principle. That Dr. Teller is often referred to as the “Father of the Hydrogen Bomb” for his work on the Manhattan Project during World War II. That Dr. Teller was, during his time, commonly referred to as “the scientific voice of the military establishment.” And that Dr. Teller was supposedly the real-life person who inspired the Dr. Strangelove character.
What a contrast. As scientists, and as human beings, Teller and Dr. Teller were, and are, quite different.
When he was young, many of Teller’s schoolmates called him Jacob, Jake, or sometimes just “Tell.” But about the time he entered college it seemed there had developed a consensus, for whatever reason, to call him Teller. So, “Teller” it was. It stuck.
But this is not just a story about Teller’s name. Rather, it’s about Teller’s loves. Or, more specifically, one of his loves and how she said his name.
And, so it happened recently, Teller was talking to a new friend, giving her a short history of his significant relationships. When he was speaking about his ten years with Katrina, even he noticed that the tone of his voice changed. So, it was not at all difficult for his perceptive listener to catch on to this person’s place in Teller’s heart. When asked for a bit more detail about his time with Katrina, Teller outlined the on-again off-again nature of that relationship; his frequent feelings of heartbreak and rejection; yet his attachment to, and sense of inclusion and family he felt with, Katrina and her three children.
He found himself saying, “someday I’ll figure how and why it was I let that go on so long.”
For some reason, during that conversation, Teller could not admit, out loud, to the simplicity of the explanations he’d come up with so far. He acknowledges that he frequently ponders the question of how it was that a decade of his life slipped away on him, believing that that relationship would work out when it was so apparent, now in hindsight, that it wouldn’t.
It was some very small things, really…that made Teller’s life oh-so-complicated for oh-so-long. For example, there was that sunny summer day when Teller drove from his apartment over to Katrina’s house to pick her up to go for a hike. He parked in the driveway and was walking to the front door when he saw her face smiling at him from the kitchen window. Teller, simply, will never forget his greeting that day. A smile so open. So genuine. So loving. So unbelievably warm and radiant. So obviously and completely for him.
For Teller, truly, it was the smile of a lifetime. And he wanted that smile, and the quickened-hearbeat he had in response, to last forever. So Teller tried to make it last, to get it back. But somewhere, along the way, the source of the display that day…went away.
And, then there was the way she often said his name: the way it rolled from her lips when they were alone. (Or, occasionally used it in email greetings.) Not using the name that everyone else used, but calling him, whispering to him, “Jacob Adam.” Or, more accurately: jacobadam, all one word, said oh so softly and gently. No one had ever called him by both names before, and surely not in the manner in which her voice delivered it. Soft, deliberate, seductive, intentional. Wholly, totally, overwhelmingly intimate.
So, Teller had stayed. For ten years. Searching for a repeat of that smile. Longing for one more whisper of his name.
Though, at some point, he now admitted, it had all disappeared. The smile, the warmth, the voice, the love.
Gone.
Soundtrack Suggestion
You know my name, look up the number
You know my name, look up the number
You, you know, you know my name
You, you know, you know my name…
(“ You Know My Name ” – Lennon/McCartney )