c.2008 Newhouse News Service
BEACHWOOD, Ohio — Give Rick Baron a date, any date on the calendar, and neurons start firing. He leans his head back and flips through a mental calendar. Then, in an instant, the recollections spurt out. It's not just that Baron remembers. He says he can't forget. Dates and details sear into his mind with amazing clarity, so much so that he's being studied by researchers at the University of California-Irvine. He's one of only three people identified so far with such phenomenal autobiographical memory. Seemingly trivial details from his life — such as sitting for his sixth-grade picture (Oct. 10, 1968) or going on a date to Euclid's Lakeshore Cinema to catch the forgettable movie "Problem Child" (Sept. 5, 1990) — easily flow from memory to mouth.
He delights in recalling historical events with near-encyclopedic precision. He says he remembers anything he reads, hears or sees. "Try me," he says. "Ask me anything." When was Johnny Carson's last show? ("An easy one — May 22, 1992.") When did militants seize the U.S. Embassy in Iran? ("You playing with me? Nov. 4, 1979.") When did former Cleveland Indian Duane Kuiper hit his only career home run? ("Aug. 29, 1977, off Steve Stone.") On and on he goes, replying with Google-like speed and efficiency to every query. Fuzzy memories extend to when he was 7, in 1964. The focus sharpens into a clear picture from about 1968 forward. He's not always perfect: Several events he dated during an interview — such as his driver's license renewal — didn't match available records. Still, he was never off much. "I don't dwell on the past," said Baron, 50. "It's just there." Always. One of the others with the ability — a California woman named Jill Price, who recently released a book titled "The Woman Who Can't Forget" — described it as paralyzing. She likened her memories to home movies playing nonstop in her head. Baron bristles at Price's portrayal of what he calls a gift. However, he acknowledged feeling like "an oddball" given his unusual talent. He also described his days as "empty." Baron does not work, and said he has never really held a full-time job. He travels the area hitting trivia contests that — surprise, surprise — he often wins. The victory count stands around 2,000. His winnings include 14 vacations, two motorcycles and a few thousand dollars. A trophy shrine brimming with hats, autographed baseballs and other spoils dominates a corner of his otherwise sparse bedroom. Knowledge filled his closet, too, as dozens of shirts claimed at quizzes hang in precise order. Baron has never married and lives in the same Beachwood house where he grew up. He doesn't use computers. He earned a bachelor's degree from the University of Toledo, but called himself an average student: "It doesn't work in all ways," he said of his recall. Baron's sister, Laurie Kestecher, said she believes her brother's amazing memory completely affects his life. "His mind is so unlike anybody else's," Kestecher said. "I think that's an overwhelming thing." Kestecher encouraged her brother to contact UC-Irvine's Center for the Neurobiology of Learning and Memory after reading about its study of Price. The center published a paper on Price in 2006. She was the first reported case of a condition labeled hyperthymestic syndrome. Researchers brought Baron to California for interviews earlier this year and found his abilities rank with Price and Brad Williams, a Wisconsin radio host who also displays superior memory. Tests show unusual brain structure in all three, but it's too early to draw conclusions, said Larry Cahill, an associate professor involved with the study. The results, however, are similar to those in people with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Cahill said Baron displays OCD tendencies, as do the others. Order orchestrates Baron's life. "Everything has to be in some sort of sequence," Baron said when asked about his ultra-organized room and home. Cahill said the ongoing research — still in its infancy — may unlock some of the mysteries of memory. The findings could help with treatment of Alzheimer's and post-traumatic stress disorder: "It's a new way to look at how the brain stores memories," he said. Baron, meanwhile, wants to find a way to put his unique talent to use. He's hoping recent media attention — he recently appeared on NBC's "Today" — opens doors so he can parlay his memory into something more substantial than quiz prizes. The man who remembers everything, it seems, knows he could do more. "Right now," he said of his ability, "it's wasted." (John Horton is a reporter for The Plain Dealer of Cleveland. He can be contacted at jhorton(at)plaind.com.) |