George Basalla
George Basalla, a dedicated husband and father and a distinguished historian of science, passed away peacefully on September 5, 2025 at the age of 97.
Born and raised in Altoona, Pennsylvania, George’s life was defined by the pursuit of knowledge. The first in his family to seek higher education, he progressed from the Altoona branch campus of Penn State, to the main campus, to Columbia University where he obtained an M.A. in literature, and finally to Harvard University where he earned his Ph.D. in history. He met Carolyn, his wife of nearly 50 years, at Harvard, famously approaching her in the library with a chocolate orange Cadbury bar.
George began his faculty career at the University of Texas at Austin in 1964 and in 1971 moved to the University of Delaware, where he remained for the rest of his career. He published several influential books, most notably The Evolution of Technology (Cambridge University Press, 1989). His intellectual curiosity made him a creative and popular teacher. His office was filled with toy robots, sci-fi posters, and other colorful oddities related to his fascination with the role of technology in American culture.
After George retired in 1999, he continued to work daily in his study at the University of Delaware Library, which became an important social and intellectual hub for him. A creature of habit, he could often be found grabbing a slice of pizza at Margherita’s or shopping at Goodwill. While he did not often travel, New York City always loomed large in his imagination after his early years at Columbia. He followed cultural and intellectual life in New York closely through his daily reading of the New York Times.
George was preceded in death by his wife, Carolyn. He is survived by his son, John Basalla (Suzanne), and his daughter, Susan May (Al Samples). He was deeply proud of both John and Susan and loved them as much as he (needlessly) worried about them. The family wishes to acknowledge George’s faculty colleague Wunyabari Maloba for his faithful kindness to George over many decades. George was always proud to introduce Maloba as his best friend.
The family will mark his passing privately.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to two organizations he treasured in his later years: Friends of the Newark Free Library, P.O. Box 5539, Newark, DE 19714 or online by clicking here; or Wikipedia, P.O. Box 98204, Washington, DC 20090-8204 or online by clicking here.
Chris Pruitt
I am so sorry to hear about your Dad. I was lucky to have him as a neighbor. More importantly, I was fortunate to call him my friend.
Anne Boylan
My condolences to George’s family. He and I were colleagues in the UD History Department until he retired. After that, I saw him regularly in the UD Library, and occasionally ran into him at the Newark Free Library. He was always ready to share book recommendations and sometimes passed along paperback copies of books he thought I would enjoy. Our conversations were informed, enjoyable, and fun. Having known George as a wonderful colleague and a lovely person, I have a sense of your loss.
Ray Callahan
George was one of the most interesting people I have known. Formidably intelligent, with ironclad moral standards, he was also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I saw less of him in recent years but always valued our encounters, however brief. There are not enough people like him. My deepest condolences to John and Susan.
Kasey Grier
George was the single most important influence on my intellectual and life as a scholar. He was willing to entertain all sorts of ideas and was a wonderful, and modest, teacher. His tiny office in Kirkbride was an endless treasure trove of treasures from Goodwill — those transistor radios shaped like teacups and windup robots were both a delight and a source of many ideas. His “Things in History” graduate seminar, which was mostly taken by Master of Arts students pursuing the Museum Studies certificate, was the best introduction to thinking about material culture that I’ve ever seen. “Toaster Week” was legendary, and the History Media Center smelled great from all the bread being used in the experiments. I wanted to take the class, but he told me that I was too “advanced” (I was a doctoral student in the new American Civilization program) — however, I followed it and it became a source of inspiration for my own teaching. When I told George that I was interested in the history of pet keeping, he was enthusiastic, telling me that I had the possibility for an “important book” in the subject. After I retired and left Delaware, I lost contact with George, who by then did not live in my neighborhood. George was kind and modest, a worthy model in every sense. I’m very sorry about that. But he will always be my most important mentor, and he holds a very large place in my heart.
Anne Krulikowski
I met George as a graduate student after he retired. We kept walking into each other on campus and progressed from nodding, to saying hello, to meeting regularly for 3 hour lunches for about 20 years. This occurred after we ran into each other at the English Department’s used book sale one semester and ended up showing each other what we had found there. We had scores and scores of lunches at Margharita’s and other Newark eateries and often visited Goodwill to check out the book selection often. I remember George one time walking across campus with a full Hefty bag with one day’s Good Will finds. Frequently, we followed a 2 hour lunch by simply moving on to another eatery for coffee and desert and returned to the library at 5pm! In the last several years I’ve been occupied with elder care and lost touch, but for many years he was one of the most important people in my life and in my thoughts still is and always will be. He read widely and was always full of new insights and information. Many books on my shelves were GB recommendations. I also enjoyed chatting and hanging out with Carolyn on many occasions and hearing George talk about John and Susan, whom he obviously loved dearly. When I needed it, George shared wise advice with me, both related to academic life and my own personal life, much of which I still remember and at least try to follow. George was the voice of reason and acceptance.
Alice (Bucha) Hunphrey
George was one of my first cousins.
His father John bring my mother Elizabeth’s brother. We lived in Clarence, PA and I remember seeing him just one time in all my 82 years. His father was very proud of him! I have kept up some with his life but never tried contacting him. I wish I would have!!
Sending all my sympathy to his remaining family and friends.
Respectfully
Alice (Bucha) Humphrey
Kenneth Taylor
I learned only today (25 November) of George’s death in September.
George was my first teacher in the history of science field, serving as my Tutor in the Harvard undergraduate program “History and Science” for three years, and supervising my senior honors thesis work. He was always very helpful and encouraging to me, lent me books from his personal library, and took a keen interest in my growth — in a commendably patient and unobtrusive way — while I bumblingly lurched from one intellectual focus to another, slowly figuring out what I might be best suited to do. I am certain he played a key role in my being admitted to the Harvard graduate program in History of Science despite my rather unimpressive college transcript. In short, George was enormously influential in my education, and I am grateful for the kind, wise guidance he gave me, both in college and during grad school years. Thanks, George!
George’s closest friends in the Harvard program were Larry Holmes and Bill Coleman. The three of them were leaders who set an example for those of us a fraction of a generation behind. Not the least impressive of the ways they affected us lay in their acutely-informed bibliomania; they always knew where to find the best-stocked second-hand book stores, whether in the Boston area or in whatever city our cohort might visit for a conference or meeting.
George was a fine scholar, an effective teacher, a true gentleman, and a good friend. It was my great good fortune, at age 18, to have stumbled into his tutelage.