Another year has gone by and I am again missing BACUS, the semiconductor industry’s premier conference on photomask technology being held this week in Monterey, California. Since there are so many friends in the business that I keep in touch with by attending conferences like BACUS, I decided to put together a “letter to BACUS” as a way of letting people know what I have been up to. Kind of like one of those boring Christmas letters that you get from your mother’s cousin that you can’t remember ever meeting. Only this letter is in the form of a song. I hope it won’t be too boring. The link below sends you to the page where the song can be found:

http://www.lithoguru.com/scientist/litho_lite/bacus2007.html

Jeff Byers got his PhD in quantum chemistry, but don’t let that fool you – to his core he is a down-to-earth, hands-on guy. He told me the story of the first time he rented a Bobcat – a small backhoe that he used to dig out his pond (or maybe it was the foundation to the bath house – I can’t remember which). Jeff always suspected that operating one of these “small” pieces of heavy machinery would be a lot of fun, but I guess it turned out better than even he expected. When he climbed down from the excavator his wife asked him what he thought. “It was better than sex,” was his reply. Understandably, Carita was skeptical. So she gave it a try herself. “Well?”, Jeff asked. She had to admit that Jeff was right.

I’ve never operated a Bobcat, so I’m speaking from ignorance here, but I found this whole episode just a bit strange. So the first chance I had, I told the story to a couple of construction-working friends who have had many opportunities to use backhoes. They said there was no doubt – Jeff is crazy. Not that I needed confirmation.

If you want to know a sure way to make Jeff Byers mad, this is it: announce that your company is having a layoff shortly after announcing record profit for the quarter. Or better yet, have his profit sharing check arrive in the mail just after watching a friend and coworker being escorted out of the building in his employer’s latest cost-cutting move. While these actions are very popular on Wall Street, they are sure to get you on Jeff’s “money-grubbing bastards” list of corporate CEOs. And please, don’t start reciting “shareholder value” excuses – Jeff will only get more angry when he hears your small-minded rationalizations of corporate greed.

Jeff worked for me for five years at KLA-Tencor, and it was a love-hate relationship for Jeff the whole time. I know he loved working with the other guys in his team – Mark Smith, Rob Jones, William Howard, Trey Graves, Sanjay Kapasi, John Biafore and others – and on the challenges of advanced lithography simulation. I loved it too – a fun problem and the very best people. But in the end, one too many record-profit layoffs weighed down Jeff’s conscience and he left.

I bring up this story more to talk about me than Jeff. The five plus years that I managed the FINLE R&D team at KLA-Tencor was a truly fantastic experience. And it was phenomenal for one reason – the great people I was fortunate enough to work with. I think Jeff Byers is absolutely the best at what he does in the world. To work with someone who is the best – not just really good, but actually the best – well, that is a rare experience. Those were five years that I will never forget.

Yesterday was Friday, and quite frequently for the crowd I hang out with the early evening on a Friday is spent at happy hour. Kim Dean is the current Master of Ceremonies for Austin’s irregular gathering of beer-loving lithographers, though John Petersen or I sometimes take charge and call a gathering together. We visit a number of venues, but our preference is for brewpubs and our favorite is the Draft House (formerly known as the Draft Horse, but that’s a different story), where we always drink in the parking lot. Jeff Byers, as a true lover of good beer, takes advantage of these assemblies as often as anyone, though he claims his reason is to avoid the Friday traffic home (which can easily become an hour’s drive for him).

Ten years ago, things were a bit different. The date was not irregular, and neither was the place: every Friday afternoon, and sometimes late into the evening, Austin’s best (or at least most social) lithographers could always be found at the Waterloo Brewing Company in the now ultra-popular warehouse district of downtown Austin. The O’Henry Porter was one of the best beers ever made (I’m getting a lump in my throat just thinking about it), and the burgers were the perfect complement to the beer. Alas, Waterloo, the first brewpub in Texas, closed in 2001 – a victim of rampant downtown development, and probably some bad business management on the part of the owner, Bill. But for nearly eight years a lot of interesting lithography ideas were discussed there, companies and technologies admired or panned there, and friendships forged there.

At least once a year I would meet Jeff at Waterloo for lunch to offer him a job. After about the fifth year in a row, we started scheduling the meeting as our annual Jeff job-offer lunch. I was quite happy and surprised when in 2000 he actually said yes!

No one called for a happy hour last night. We will soon, though, I’m sure, and when we do we will all be drinking to Jeff’s health.

The first time I got an email from Jeff Byers, it was signed “jefe”. I thought is was an all-too-common fat-fingered mistake in a quickly typed message. When the second email I got from him was signed in the same way, I began to wonder. It turns out that Jeff likes to use his nickname, “el jefe”, Spanish for “the boss”. I find this nickname absolutely hilarious. As far as I know, Jeff has never been the boss of anyone, and probably never will be. In the five years that he worked for me I frequently encouraged him to take on more leadership roles, but he steadfastly rejected any assignment that even remotely resembled “management” (a word that always brought fear and dread to Jeff’s face). Jeff is the ultimate “team player”, often taking less credit than he deserves and the first to share credit with others. Telling people what to do is totally anathema to Jeff’s personality (though telling some people where to go, interestingly, is not). Which is why “el jefe” is just perfect for Jeff.

I believe the year was 1995, and I was working on my first paper with Jeff Byers, then at SEMATECH. We were presenting at the SPIE Microlithography Symposium, the big event of the year for us lithographers, and Jeff and John Petersen were teaching me about reaction-diffusion and chemically amplified resists, while I was building their models into my software package, PROLITH. Back in those days of youthful exuberance, all three of us had the bad habit of finishing our papers at the last minute – which usually made for some very late nights in the hotel room at the conference. This year was no exception. I made my way to John’s room – where I knew that he and Jeff were trying to finish up the paper the night before the presentation – to see what I could do to help.

As I walked into the room, I noticed the place was littered with laptops, each running massive PROLITH simulations to try to get enough data for the paper. My eyes began to widen as the businessman in me took over from the scientist: SEMATECH had bought two copies of PROLITH, but John and Jeff were running a half dozen “illegal” copies in order to get the job done in time. But before I could open my mouth, John snapped “Shut up and give me your laptop!” What else could I do? After all, I was on the paper too.

We finished the paper in the nick of time, and it turned out pretty good, in my humble opinion. It was the first of many times when Jeff taught me about what really goes on inside of a photoresist. But when I got back to Austin, I made sure that the next version of PROLITH had copy-protection licensing software and a hardware dongle. Jeff and John and all the other last-minute lithographers have complained to me about it ever since, but I say, don’t blame me for trying to make an honest living – it’s John and Jeff’s fault!

Jeff Byers and his wife Carita live on the Yak Farm. That is the name they have given to their property – about 40 acres in Blue, Texas, which is about 40 miles east and a little north of Austin. They built their house almost entirely by themselves – but maybe I should call it their “compound” rather than their house, since it currently consists of three buildings and a pond that Jeff dug and will probably grow from there. They started by building the workshop, then lived there as they built the house. They just recently finished building #3, Carita’s bath house. As far as I know, Jeff and Carita have never owned any yaks, though they do raise chickens and stray dogs on their place. I never asked where the name “Yak Farm” came from – as soon as I heard it, the name just fit Jeff’s style so well that it I instantly accepted it as the only possible name for his place.

Jeff underwent surgery this morning – a tracheotomy so that the breathing tubes can be removed. Jeff’s healing continues to go well.

Jeff Byers loves children – this I have known for a long time. But I’ve been able to see it in action over the last two years as he has played with my daughter, Sarah. When it comes right down to it, Jeff is just a great, big teddy bear (both outside and inside), and kids love him, too. A couple of months ago (Sarah was just shy of turning two) Jeff and some other friends were over at my house enjoying a beer after work. Jeff and Sarah disappeared into the room next door. A few minutes later Sarah returned with great excitement and fanfare – Jeff had taught her how to paint her toenails with crayons, a skill she still practices. Jeff has not yet met my youngest daughter, Anna. She was born on the day of Jeff’s car accident. I look forward to that day.

Jeff seems to be improving. All of the normal trauma one would expect from a serious car crash – cuts, bruises, swelling, broken bones – are healing very well, faster than expected. He has moved his arms and legs some, and his friend and family take encouragement from these small signs.

If memory serves me right, I’ve know Jeff now for about 15 years. He is just about the smartest guy I have ever met – and not just on his thesis topic either (computational quantum chemistry), but on many, many subjects useful to a lithographer, chemist, or scientist in general. I have learned a tremendous amount from Jeff, and it seems I learn something more every time we talk. For example, last year Jeff taught me how to brew beer. I had brewed a few times before that, but had no idea what I was doing. Jeff is a master brewer, and his advise and hints instantly shot my brewing results up to a new level. Jeff, with his wife Carita, built the house that they live in almost entire by themselves (in Blue, Texas), and the place is beautiful. Jeff is also just a plain, old, ordinary good man. A man whose instincts and actions on social justice have inspired me, whose kindness to those around him has awed me, and whose friendship has improved me.

Last night Jeff Byers was in a car accident. He is in a coma. That is just about all I know at the moment. Except I know, as much as I know anything else, that I want him to get better.

A question to the lithography blogosphere: who invented pellicles for photomask protection?

Lithographers have been practicing safe exposures – with masks wrapped in a thin sheet of plastic to protect them from particles – since before my time. What is the first reference to pellicles in the literature? Who was the first to use them? The earliest reference that I have found is Ron Hershel, “Pellicle protection of integrated circuit (IC) masks”, SPIE Vol. 275 (1981) pp. 23 – 28.