Walk into the chemistry labs at Washington State University (WSU) and you might hear a specific name whispered with a mix of reverence and technical grit. Don Matteson. If you live in Pullman, WA, you’ve likely seen the name on a plaque or heard it mentioned in a university press release about some massive endowment. But for the folks who actually spend their lives staring at molecular structures, Don Matteson isn’t just a donor. He is the man who cracked the code on how to build carbon-to-carbon bonds with surgical precision.
Honestly, it’s kinda hard to overstate how much one guy from a small college town impacted global medicine.
Basically, Don Matteson spent over five decades in Pullman. He arrived in 1958 back when the school was still called Washington State College. Think about that for a second. The town didn't even have most of the landmarks we recognize today. He was a young chemist who had just finished a stint at DuPont and realized he hated the East Coast. He wanted the West. He wanted the Palouse. So, he took a job for $5,700 a year and started a research program that would eventually change the way we fight cancer.
The Matteson Reaction: More Than Just Lab Notes
What most people get wrong about high-level science is thinking it’s all "Eureka!" moments. For Matteson, it was about the "Matteson Reaction." This is a method for stereospecific homologation of boronic esters. Sounds like a mouthful, right?
In plain English: he figured out how to add carbon atoms to a molecule in a very specific 3D shape. In chemistry, shape is everything. If a molecule is "left-handed" instead of "right-handed," it might be a life-saving drug or a deadly poison. Matteson’s work allowed scientists to build these molecules with near-perfect accuracy.
You’ve probably heard of the drug Velcade. It’s used to treat multiple myeloma. While Matteson didn't develop the drug himself, the chemists who did used his fundamental research on boron compounds to make it happen. He’s always been humble about it, though. In interviews, he’s joked that he only gets a "passing mention" in the drug's history, but the reality is that the foundation was built in his Pullman lab.
A Career Spanning Generations
Don’t think for a second that he was just a "lab rat" hiding away from the world. Matteson was a mentor. He taught his first graduate student, Raymond Wei Mah, back in 1963. Decades later, that same student made a massive donation back to WSU in Matteson’s honor. That tells you everything you need to know about the guy. He wasn't just teaching formulas; he was teaching people how to think.
- 1958: Joined WSU (then Washington State College).
- 1980: Discovered organoboron compounds that mimic proteins.
- 2012: Formally retired, though he kept his office and lab space.
- Ongoing: The Matteson Distinguished Professorship continues to fund top-tier research.
He and his late wife, Marianna Merritt Matteson, became some of the university's most significant benefactors. Marianna was a powerhouse in her own right, heading the Foreign Languages department. Together, they didn't just stay in Pullman—they invested in it. They’ve funded professorships in both chemistry and foreign languages, ensuring that the intellectual culture of the Palouse remains sharp long after they’ve stepped away from the lectern.
Life on the Palouse Outside the Lab
Pullman isn't just a place where Matteson worked. It’s where he lived a full, sometimes quirky life. Did you know he was an accomplished violinist? He played second fiddle in the Washington-Idaho Symphony for years. He even composed his own music.
There’s a great story from years back where he talked about giving up his chemistry set as a kid when his family moved from Montana to California. He channeled that lost energy into the violin. Later, he realized he could make a bigger dent in the world as a chemist than as a musician, but he never lost that creative streak. It probably helped him visualize those complex 3D molecules he was so famous for.
He also loved the outdoors. He and Marianna were avid hikers, frequently visiting Glacier National Park. They only stopped doing overnight backcountry trips after a thief stole their backpacks in 1986. Talk about a reason to stick to day hikes!
Why Don Matteson Matters in 2026
You might wonder why we’re still talking about a professor who started in the 50s. It’s because the "Matteson Reaction" isn't a relic. It’s a tool. Every time a pharmaceutical company tries to develop a new enzyme inhibitor or a synthetic antibiotic, they are likely standing on the shoulders of the work done in a cluttered, "cubbyhole" lab in Fulmer Hall.
The legacy of Don Matteson Pullman WA is really a story of local impact meeting global scale. It’s about a guy who stayed in one place, did the hard work, and let the results ripple outward.
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Actionable Insights from a Legacy of Excellence
If you're looking to understand the impact of Don Matteson or looking to follow in those academic footsteps, here’s how to engage with that legacy:
- Visit the WSU Department of Chemistry: The department often hosts seminars funded by the Mattesons. It’s a great way to see how current research is evolving from his foundational boron chemistry.
- Explore the Matteson Distinguished Professorship: If you’re a researcher or student, look into the fellowships and positions funded by his endowment. These are some of the most prestigious roles at the university.
- Support Local Arts and Science: Matteson showed that a scientist doesn't have to be one-dimensional. Support the Washington-Idaho Symphony or local Pullman theater—places where the Mattesons spent their "off" time.
- Study Organoboron Chemistry: For the students out there, dive into the "Matteson Reaction" in your organic chemistry textbooks. It’s one of the few named reactions that was pioneered right here in the Pacific Northwest.
The story of Don Matteson is basically a reminder that you don't need to be in a massive city like New York or London to change the world. Sometimes, all you need is a lab in Pullman, a lot of patience, and a deep fascination with how atoms fit together.