It’s probably not the best idea to name things in honor of dead politicians, but we do it anyway. At the UW, we have the Jackson School of International Studies named after the late Sen. Henry Jackson, and the Magnuson Health Sciences Building after the late Sen. Warren Magnuson. In the realm of living politicians, we have the Daniel J. Evans School of Public Affairs named after the former governor and senator.

There is one notable late politician, though, who has gone comparatively unrecognized. I am speaking of the late Dixy Lee Ray. More than any politician, Ray deserves recognition at the UW, the school at which she taught for many years.

Born Marguerite Ray on Sept. 3, 1914 in Tacoma, Wash., she legally changed her name to Dixy Lee at the age of 16. A graduate of Stadium High School, she received a bachelor’s degree in zoology from Mills College in 1937 and taught science in Oakland public schools from 1938 to 1942. From 1942 to 1945, Ray studied at Stanford University and received a doctorate in biology. She received no help from her parents in paying for school, working long hours in many jobs to fund her education.

In 1945, Ray joined the UW as a lecturer in zoology, becoming an assistant professor in 1947 and an associate professor in 1957.

In 1963, Ray stepped in to head the one-year-old Pacific Science Center (PSC) while continuing as a UW professor. At the time, the PSC was in the midst of a financial crisis, but during the next nine years, Ray guided it onto solid ground. Without her perseverance, the PSC would probably not be around today.

In 1972, she was appointed by President Nixon as head of the Atomic Energy Commission — the first and only woman to lead the commission. Four years later, she was elected Washington state’s first female governor and the United States’ fifth. She ran as a Democrat but shocked the state with her very independent views when managing to balance the budget. She often fell outside the platform of her party, particularly in her insistence on nuclear power as a solution to energy problems. She also refused to campaign for the Equal Rights Amendment. In her second bid for governor, she went down hard in the primary, losing to the then-state Sen. Jim McDermott.

Near the end of her life, she wrote two books, Trashing the Planet and Environmental Overkill, detailing her skepticism of the environmentalist movement — in particular, human involvement in global warming. She cited high levels of volcanic activity as a possible cause for global warming if it did exist, but also prescribed nuclear power as a way to reduce greenhouse gases. She was also a strong advocate of using DDT to combat malaria, pointing to the huge reduction in deaths from malaria while DDT was used and the subsequent astronomical climb in deaths after it was banned. This view has lately come back into favor with the World Health Organization and Sierra Club calling for limited use of DDT to reduce malaria deaths.

Dixy Lee Ray was one of a kind. She held fast to her views even when they made her unpopular, reaching across the aisle because she truly was bipartisan, not just someone who said she was during campaigns. Whether or not you agree with her, Ray deserves respect both for her commitment to her own personal integrity and for her perseverance.

Her contempories have had buildings and programs named after them, but Ray, a former faculty member, is forgotten. Why not rename the Fisheries Building after her? Ray’s focus was marine life, and the somewhat distant nature of the building would be symbolic of her independent nature. Or why not a small statue or bust in the library? It would complement nicely Warren Magnuson’s desk in Suzzallo. In any case, she deserves it. Ray died in 1994, and it’s sad that she has gone unrecognized by the UW for so long.

Reach columnist Thomas Cloud at

opinion@dailyuw.com.