Sitting in a booth in Jalisco’s Mexican Restaurant in Idaho Falls, Idaho, I can’t help but smile as I listen to Phil Nolte reminisce about his career in the potato industry. He regales me with tales of unmitigated disasters in disease-ridden seed lots and of the brilliant and vastly underappreciated minds that made the breakthroughs to mitigate—or avoid entirely—similar debacles later on. As I sit there listening and chomping on my chalupa, I wonder, Does Nolte know how much he has meant to the industry?
Nolte, an extension seed potato specialist and plant pathologist with the University of Idaho and director of the university’s Tetonia Research & Extension Center, recounts stories involving sundry growers, researchers, politicians and reporters, remembering every name and face with impressive accuracy. Sprinkled liberally throughout the conversation are words like “serendipitous” and “lucky,” Nolte apparently believing his presence during significant events and discoveries has little to do with himself. Yet as he nears retirement, set to officially begin April 30, one thing about Nolte is abundantly clear: As much as the industry will miss him, he will miss it just as much.
Nolte grew up in Minnesota and, upon graduating from high school in Moorhead, enrolled at Moorhead State College—now Minnesota State University Moorhead—where he earned a bachelor’s degree in biology. More importantly, Moorhead State was where Nolte first met his wife, Cindy, who has been at Phil’s side not only as a spouse but as an indispensable partner in potato research and industry relations ever since.
Nolte was offered a job as a research assistant at nearby North Dakota State University, where his work centered on diseases of wheat and other cereal crops. “I learned a whole bunch of stuff working that job,” Nolte recalls, “but I discovered over and over again that I was deathly allergic to cereals.”
Eventually, Nolte began working under noted NDSU potato pathologists Gary Secor and Neil Gudmestad, under whom he was ultimately able to earn both his master’s and doctorate degrees. “I’m not allergic to potatoes,” Nolte says with a chuckle, “so pathology all of a sudden became a whole different game than it had been.”
Nolte’s work with Secor and Gudmestad caught the attention of the good folks at the University of Idaho. In 1991 Nolte was hired to the position he has held until his retirement this spring. The “good stuff” has seemed to follow Nolte around, as he has been a key cog over the years in developing programs and relationships that have helped growers, researchers and industry advocates work together to grow the potato industry. And though the work of a scientist is dear to Nolte, he knows the relationships he’s worked to forge are the biggest driver of his success.
“One thing I never did at any point in my career was attempt to be the cowboy and go off on a tangent of some kind,” he says. “If there’s something that’s a problem that could impact the industry, I’ve tried to make sure the industry is a part of the business of releasing the information. Being a glory hound is not an extension guy’s job, especially in an arena that can at times be so political.”
During his tenure in Idaho, Nolte has been instrumental in mitigating potentially debilitating outbreaks of such diseases as fusarium dry rot, soft rot, PVY(N) and even late blight in the state. He has been knee-deep into projects that have proven to be nothing short of vital to the seed potato sector. On top of all that, Nolte has also spent the majority of his time in Idaho serving as the technical editor of Potato Grower. With each story, Nolte makes it a point to ascribe credit to his simply being in the right place, at the right time, with the right people.
“It’s that whole business of serendipity and teamwork and blind luck, whatever you want to call it,” he says.
As far as retirement is concerned, the Noltes plan to stay in Idaho Falls, where they’ve lived since taking the U of I job some 24 years ago. Phil plans to work more extensively on his science-fiction writing (he’s had four novels published), but, beyond that, the options have yet to be explored.
“Retirement is kind of a wonderful thought but you never want to delve too far into it,” says Cindy. “It’s one of those things you just don’t think very much about.”
As we finish up our meal and walk out of the restaurant, Phil shakes my hand and apologizes for taking so much of my time. “You know me,” he says with a sly grin. “I get the chance to pontificate, and I just can’t help myself.
“Anyway, that’s the story of P. Nolte.”