Medicine: Dr. KINSEY of BLOOMINGTON

A the sturdy man wearing an unpressed suit and scuffed loafers strides determinedly across the Indiana University campus, students will nudge a newcomer and remark: "That's Dr. Kinsey." Beyond such modest attention, Kinsey has caused less stir in the college town of Bloomington (pop. 28,163) than almost anywhere else in the U.S.

Bloomingtonians repeat the usual Kinsey jokes. Residents driving east on First Street point out the Kinseys' brick house (which he designed) behind a riotous growth of trees and shrubs (which he planted). Friends know him by a nickname—"Prok," a contraction of Prof. K. But on shopping streets around the town square, Dr. Kinsey passes unidentified and unnoticed.

Kinsey is a friendly man with a passionate interest in people. Says Actress Cornelia Otis Skinner (whom he interviewed as part of his "female sample"): "He has the skill of a great actor in drawing you into what he is doing. He attracts you like a magnet. You forget all your fears and have complete confidence in him." But lately, as the weight of work has increased, Kinsey has become almost a recluse. He sees less and less of his old faculty friends, though most of them still like him. He can be impatient and cutting. His attacks on scientists in other fields border on arrogance.

Kinsey works 14 or more hours six days a week, and most of Sundays. An insomniac, he will often work in the middle of a sleepless night. He is compulsive about keeping appointments on the dot. He does not know how to relax. He can delegate little work, though his heart has begun to protest and doctors have warned him that he must rest. This summer he subjected himself to tremendous strain by personally handling his elaborate press relations—with results that a professional pressagent might envy. Though he decries publicity for himself, he wants it for his work.

Kinsey married Clara Bracken McMillen in 1921, when she was a graduate student in chemistry and he a young assistant professor of zoology at Indiana. Prok and Mac, as he calls her, have raised three children (a boy died in infancy): Anne, 30, married to Warren Corning of Chicago; Joan, 28, married to Dr. Robert Reid of Columbus, Ind. and Bruce, 24, a graduate business student at Indiana U. Mrs. Kinsey, a wiry, tweedy woman with neat black hair, now greying slightly, has gladly subordinated her life to her husband's career. As she once innocently expressed it: "I hardly ever see Prok at night any more since he took up sex." Mac used to enjoy hiking with him and sharing in his field work; nowadays she leads weekly hikes for a rugged band of faculty wives while he is busy with his statistics.