Michael Hines, Daily Press

Just about since the time he could run, two words have best described Gunter Luepke: science and soccer.

Though Luepke's work with lasers may help pave the way for computers that are thousands of times more powerful than current machines, for a while his interest in light was on par with his enthusiasm for Europe's football. When he was a kid, he thought of trying to make it a career; today, he uses it to take his mind off particle problems.

"You let it all go. Your mind empties out completely," he said about the sport's therapeutic effects. "It's a good way to just let loose."

His interest meant that mornings during this year's World Cup tournament were spent in the College of William and Mary's University Center rooting for the German and Brazilian teams.

What has since become the bigger goal is getting lasers to act like syringes. Luepke is an assistant professor of applied science at the College of William and Mary. He is a recognized expert in laser and optic applications and works with a principle called "spin."

It actually has nothing to do with how particles twirl. Spin is part of the loopier side of physics called quantum mechanics. It's different from classical physics, which explains stuff like how the world zips around the sun or why apples don't fall up.

Quantum mechanics describe happenings at subatomic levels. At those tiny distances, even scientists leave common sense at the door. They've recorded particles at more than one place at one time; seeming more like clouds than billiard balls; and actually "teleporting" almost Star Trek-style. They just can't explain why all that's possible.

Spin actually has a lot to do with magnetism. While it's tough to explain, it's easy to appreciate when it comes to improving computers.

Scientists describe the spin of particles as different orientations: up, down or a mix of both. That mixed state is a property of its quantum mechanical nature, and it's what helps boost computing power.

Conventional electronics have to herd thousands of electrons through microprocessors and transistors to create a single bit of information because they're actually using the electrons' charges. Lots of electrical current make a "one," while no current makes a "zero." Those zeroes and ones make up software.

The up and down states could be designated as "one" and "zero." By using spin, then, thousands of electrons aren't needed to make a single bit. Each electron would be a bit.

Plus, because each single electron can be a mixture of either up or down, each single electron can represent a multitude of different bits. All of those advances come into play as researchers look to develop quantum computers, machines that use quantum mechanics. By using such attributes, quantum computers could do calculations that are just about impossible for conventional machines. Already, rudimentary applications using spin characteristics have led to a $100 billion magnetic recording market for items such as disk drives.

One of the biggest barriers to constructing full-blown quantum computers that work as well as digital ones is spin. Such machines depend on layers of material, and as particles travel between those layers, they lose their spin.

"You would basically get some errors," Luepke said. "It would essentially make it slower."

Luepke's research could provide some answers. He uses laser light at the Thomas Jefferson National Accelerator Facility to essentially inject particles with the correct spin into different layers of material. Then he measures how long they keep that spin despite passing through the different layers.

Luepke was born Sept. 14, 1963, in Duisburg, Germany. His mother was a homemaker, while his father was an electrical engineer at Siemens. His father would bring things home from work, such as engine parts or motors, and Luepke would fiddle with them. "I think I was always trying to figure things out. I took our radio apart once," he said. "They weren't too pleased."

His sisters helped keep an eye on him, though. Luepke was the youngest child, with a sister who was one year older and another who was 12 years older. "It was like having a younger mother," he said.

Watching the youngest Luepke wasn't too difficult, though. He was usually on the soccer field with his buddies, at his best running 100 meters in about 10 seconds. "We played a lot of soccer," he said. "That's what you do in Germany."

Luepke played for his school and thought about one day becoming a pro. With most of his friends also on the team, he spent about as much time practicing his footwork as he did his homework. About the only other thing that really caught his interest was science, and he did well in math, biology, chemistry and physics. Eventually, the science won out.

"Playing sports was a lot of fun, but I also knew that in order to be successful, you have to be very, very good," he said. "As you get older, you know when you should stop." Luepke concentrated on math, mostly because the logic involved intrigued him. He entered Georg August University and even joined the soccer team, but more for recreation than anything.

"When I went to August, it was the first time I left home. I felt more responsible for what I was doing, so I worked harder on studying," he said. "The sport became something more to relax." His studies quickly led him to the same thought that many U.S. high school students have after reading their first calculus question: Who cares?

The more esoteric nature of polynomials and differential equations gave way to physics. "It was more real-world stuff than math," Luepke said.

Earning his bachelor's degree both in math and physics by 1987, he earned his master's degree in 1988 and a doctorate in 1990, both degrees solely in physics. Canada had fascinated him for some time, so he eventually opted to continue his studies at the University of Toronto. The experience made a big impact on his professional and love life.

Being in Toronto exposed Luepke to a myriad of cultures instead of the mainly German population at his German university. "There were so many differentethnic groups, it was just beautiful how it worked," he said. "It completely changed my whole perspective. From then on, I had the feeling that I just didn't want to spend my life in Germany."

The job market had other plans. After two years, few positions were available for someone with a new doctorate. He returned to Germany for job interviews. The best conversation turned out to come on the plane.

During his last month in Toronto, he was returning from an interview and sat next to Ann Lynch, a Pennsylvania native studying in London. The chat resulted in an invitation to visit her in Pennsylvania for Christmas, which later led to an invitation to visit him in Toronto.

By the time she went to school in London, Luepke had secured a position at Aachen University of Technology in Germany. Their international romance continued unabated. "Her dad was an airline pilot, so she could fly for free," Luepke said. "That made a big difference."

After meeting in October 1992, the two got married in September 1994 and lived in Germany. But she wanted to live closer to her family, and Luepke had enjoyed his time in Toronto enough to agree. He took a job at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tenn., joining a team of researchers studying how to use free-electron lasers to improve semiconductor development.

That work was better suited for a certain particle accelerator in Newport News, so Luepke looked north. Michael Kelley, professor of applied science at William and Mary and applied research program manager for the free-electron laser department at Jefferson Lab, was enthusiastic about bringing Luepke aboard.

Kelley had been part of the search to fill a spot at the college; in asking at various institutions, he knew that Luepke was well respected. "Gunter is an expert in laser science," Kelley said. "He had experience as much as one can have it." Luepke didn't need a lot of handholding, Kelley said. "He came with ideas in mind, and he wanted to go to work. He wasn't looking around for what he should do," Kelley said. "Those are the things that winners do."

Luepke showed that drive by developing courses for students interested in applied science. Now, he teaches a class each semester. His work at the Applied Research Center and Jefferson Lab has also continued. He is helping design a pulse stacker, an apparatus that stores the pulses of light produced by the lab's electron beam. The new equipment would bounce the light around inside a tube until enough pulses had been stored to create a single pulse much more powerful than what originally entered.

About the only thing that's been forced to slow down has been his soccer. "There's been no time," he said. He's not pouting too much, though. "I think it's great," he said of his situation. "I can do the things here that I've always wanted to do."

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Updated July 3, 2003