To any passersby he was a grey suit, a white shirt with a buttoned-down-collar, a charcoal colored tie – and a newspaper.

Henry Molaison, a small man, about five-foot-two, was nearly hidden by The Daily Transcript as he sat in the lobby of The Brain Observatory at UC San Diego. Being of middle-age, with dark hair, dark eyes and fair skin, he felt out-of-place among the many fun-loving, free-thinking and hair-bleaching youth that roamed the campus grounds.

11:11 am Had he missed his appointment? He couldn’t remember.

“Mr. Molaison,” called a young lady at the far end of the lobby. “We’re ready for you now.”
“Yes,” he whispered to himself as he folded the newspaper and stood. They’re ready for me. He said silently. “Am I Ready?”

“Please wait here,” offered the young woman. “Dr. Annese will be with you shortly.” He took a seat on a black molded-plastic chair in the corner of the small, sparsely decorated room. “Why am I here?” He asked himself. The same question had the same reply. “I don’t remember.”