24.06.2025

Birds are chirping, the sun is shining through the windows onto the wooden floor. On the dining table lies a treasure that can’t be measured in numbers: old photo albums, guest books, and a handwritten family chronicle tracing the Maier-Leibnitz family back to the year 1750. “You already know my father’s scientific career,” says Christine Raum, daughter of Heinz Maier-Leibnitz, gently stroking the leather-bound guest book. “But perhaps these pages tell you more about my father than any official document ever could.”

Heinz Maier-Leibnitz – his name today stands for the construction of Germany’s first research reactor in Garching, for neutron research, for scientific excellence. But those who want to get truly close to him must look elsewhere: in personal stories, small gestures, and moments far from the laboratory.

Food makes discussions easier
His life was shaped by curiosity and human connection – in science as much as in everyday life. “He was just as good at cooking as he was at calculating,” says his daughter Christine Raum. Heinz Maier-Leibnitz combined his hobby with his profession and regularly invited guests to their home. While he cooked, discussions took place – and once dinner was ready, he’d sit down and ask, “So, what do you think?”

“When people had eaten something, discussions flowed more easily. We didn’t have any frills, no luxury – that’s just how it was back then,” says Christine Raum with a proud smile.

Lise Meitner dressed all in black
With so many brilliant minds coming and going at the Maier-Leibnitz home, small entertaining mishaps were almost inevitable.

Christine recalls a particularly special visit: Lise Meitner came to visit – on 13 September 1955, as noted in the guest book. “There she came, small, hunched over, dressed all in black, with a bonnet hat and veil,” Christine Raum recounts. They knew Meitner didn’t like pets – so the family’s dog was locked in the bedroom. But the constant barking became a disturbance, and so Mother Rita Maier-Leibnitz let the dog roam freely while the dining room door stayed closed.

Heinz Maier-Leibnitz in his office. © FRM II / TUM

Heinz Maier-Leibnitz in his office. © FRM II / TUM

“She looked at the hat suspiciously… and left.”
Before coffee was served, their mother rushed to the children: the dog had torn up Lise Meitner’s bonnet hat! “All she said was: I’ll go make the coffee – you need to figure something out.” The three daughters – Christine, Dorothee, and Ibab – began stitching the hat back together. “Then the moment came,” says Christine. “Lise Meitner was ready to leave. She picked up the hat, glanced at it briefly with suspicion, put it on – and left. Our mother was incredibly relieved.”

The Atomic Commission in a holiday cottage
Christine also has vivid memories of Arosa, a small town in Switzerland. In a little holiday cottage up in the mountains, her father was able to relax – and keep thinking. “He often had visits from colleagues – one time, he even hosted the Atomic Commission in Arosa.”

The Nobel Prize
And yet Heinz Maier-Leibnitz was never one to seek the spotlight. “He wasn’t a man of loud words; he was very modest,” says Christine Raum. “But his influence is everywhere – in science, in ideas, and in our family.”
In 1961, the Nobel Prize committee believed that Heinz Maier-Leibnitz deserved a share of the prize as doctoral advisor for the discovery of what became known as the Mössbauer effect, named after his student.
“But my father said he had only provided the idea, not done the work,” Christine Raum explains. Thus, Rudolf Mössbauer received the Nobel Prize in Physics. At an award ceremony years later, Maier-Leibnitz reportedly said: “When I hear all the things I’ve done and received, I start to find myself rather unlikable.”

Christine Raum tells us the love story of her parents and flicks through the family album with photos of Heinz Maier-Leibnitz and Rita when they were young. © Andrea Voit, FRM II / TUM

Christine Raum tells us the love story of her parents and flicks through the family album with photos of Heinz Maier-Leibnitz and Rita when they were young. © Andrea Voit, FRM II / TUM

Emergency cookbook
Among all the mementos is a handmade cookbook from 1945 – a Christmas present from Heinz to his beloved wife Rita.

“My dearest,” Christine reads her father’s words aloud, “if you stand in the kitchen without a clue, not knowing what to cook with the little you have, think of this book – it was made just for times like these.”
Even during that difficult wartime period with scarce resources, they had their love – for each other and their children.

Christine was born in 1938 as the oldest daughter, followed by Dorothee (1942) and Ibab (1946). She describes her parents’ relationship as a lifelong love – two people who perfectly complemented each other.

Love at first sight
Christine also shares the story of how her parents met: Rita, a private nurse, was doing a routine check-up at the hospital. Other nurses said someone had been admitted who was taller than her and had a doctorate.
“She looked at him. My father opened his eyes in that moment – and that was it. They were engaged 14 days later, then married. 36 happy years,” Christine says, beaming.

A life between notebooks and cookbooks, between neutrons and nights under Swiss stars – Heinz Maier-Leibnitz was not only one of the most influential physicists of his time. He was also a friend, a husband and a father.