Roy, don't you know you'll be selling toothbrushes and combs?” Phil Majerus crowed. I played it straight: “Phil, I don't think Merck sells those products.” But the truth was, when I accepted the company's offer to head basic research for a year and then become president of the Merck Research Laboratories, I didn't know everything Merck was doing. In 1975 the company had several subsidiaries, and so it was possible that one of them did make toothbrushes or combs. But if so, I would never admit it to Phil.

What I did know about Merck & Co., Inc., consisted of an impressionistic blend of Rahway memories, family lore, and recent personal encounters. From my days jerking sodas at Estelle's Luncheonette, I had a good feeling about the technical people who worked for the company. Not only were they smart and excited about their work, but they were also fun. They played tennis and touch football, they read interesting books, they were on top of current events. I wanted to be like them. I also knew many Rahway families in which two or three people were employed at Merck. I thought of it as a benevolent, paternalistic organization that took good care of its employees. My sister's husband, Robert Currie, had been a process chemist in Merck Research for years, and so stories about the company, mostly positive, had always floated around our family gatherings.