Introduction
Bruce A. Chabner
Editor‐in‐Chief, The Oncologist
Eli Glatstein, the “Lion King” of In Memoriam, died on November 27, 2019, the day before Thanksgiving. It was fitting that Eli, well known for his gastronomical indulgences, did not have to endure the holiday fare of his rehabilitation center, where he “couldn't get a decent bagel,” let alone a turkey dinner. Eli's last days were not happy ones, as he was incapacitated by a devastating stroke and hemiparesis. But his mind, as always, was sharp and acerbic, and being confined to bed and chair was an intolerable existence for him. He was one of a kind, a consummate clinician, teacher, and raconteur, a mentor and friend to the Who's Who of oncology. As noted in these pages 12 years ago, on the occasion of a festschrift celebrating his 70th birthday, Eli received his training in cancer under the tutelage of the legendary Henry Kaplan at Stanford. Kaplan, a towering intellect and innovator, was an intimidating figure. Eli was the perfect counterpart, and responded brilliantly. He brought to the task his own version of an analytical mind, a gift for presenting his views at the bedside, and a devotion to the education of his fellows. And educated they were, the next generation of leaders of his field: Coleman, Schwade, McKenna, Lichter, Tepper, and Hahn to name a few. His influence extended to the medical oncology field, as he partnered with Saul Rosenberg at Stanford in a series of landmark lymphoma studies, followed by 15 years at the National Cancer Institute with De Vita, Young, Rosenberg, and Longo. He was a master of bedside teaching. Nothing was done in a cursory fashion when Eli was there. Each decision warranted clear thinking, a weighing of the alternatives, a careful dissection of the evidence and his own clinical experience, and an appreciation of the patient. He believed in clinical trial as a framework for establishing new therapies, but in patient care, but he had no patience for cookbook decision making. At NCI, he was revered for his open mindedness, his kindness to patients, and his devotion to the truth, whether it came from his specialty, medical oncology, or surgery. In our home, he was equally revered as dear friend, an authority on movies and Broadway tunes, and a passionate liberal.
The following comments and reflections about Eli come from his closest friends and fellow travelers on the long path from Muscatine, Iowa to Stanford, Bethesda, Dallas, and Philadelphia. I urge our readers to pay special attention to Eli's “Reminiscences” in the 2010 festschrift (https://dbpia.nl.go.kr/oncolo/issue/15/4), a masterful reflection of the process of his maturation as a physician. And please enjoy the pictures included below.
Dwight Kaufman
From Dwight Kaufman, M.D., Ph.D., and his wife, Joan Jacobsen, M.D. (Dwight was a Medical Oncology fellow and Joan a radiation oncology fellow during Eli's tenure at NCI. Both became NCI faculty prior to departing for practice in Tennessee):
Joan and I were devastated to learn of Eli's death. Truly a bit of us died with the news. Eli was without family, but as Joan said, all of his trainees were his children. Eli taught me more oncology than any of the other attending. His encyclopedic knowledge and intimate familiarity with the literature were astounding. He would make late afternoon or evening rounds, frequently with only 1 or 2 clinical associates remaining on the floor. Nothing has ever been more memorable than discussing patients with Eli—just listening to his common sense approach to medicine and the literature.
Ramesh Rengan
I first met Eli during my faculty interview at Penn. I was supposed to have dinner with the Chair but was surprised (and intimidated) to find the legendary Eli Glatstein sitting at the dinner table instead. Eli was well known for writing (and speaking) in ALL CAPS. This was indeed a disquieting turn of events for an anxious trainee vying for a job. However, as multiple desserts were consumed, Eli engaged me in the most thought‐provoking, paradigm‐questioning conversation of my early career. In subsequent years, Eli would often walk into my office (whether the door was open or closed) to launch into a fist‐pounding philippic about “TECHNOLOGICAL SNAKE OIL IN RAD ONC” or the penchant for “TOUTING” rather than “TESTING” in academia. I now look upon those years with Eli as the most formative and positive of my professional life. Eli had an uncanny gift for aphorisms, some of which are unsuitable for print, but perhaps the most influential on me was to “FOCUS ON THE DONUT AND NOT THE HOLE!” An enduring lesson for us all.
RIP ELI.
Norm Coleman
I often write poems for retiring faculty. Eli knew that and asked for one to be written. He was too ill the first visit and we were too busy working on a manuscript on the Kaplan legacy subsequently, and so what follows is five stanzas of the tribute Eli would have heard. The full piece is 25 stanzas; the number in brackets shown below, […n…], is the number not included here):
Andrew Lister, St Bartholomew's Hospital, London
From a transatlantic perspective, Eli Glatstein was a very special person who, in addition to gamma rays, radiated honesty and integrity coupled with humor. A splendid combination.
Although we never worked together, it became clear to me, over the 40 or more years that we knew each other, that he was the epitome of the academic physician (not clinical scientist), driven by the desire to achieve the optimal outcome for the individual patient against the background of developing better treatment for all, a philosophy clearly reflected early in his career with Henry Kaplan and Saul Rosenberg at Stanford, with his publications about the role of laparotomy in staging and extended megavoltage irradiation for Hodgkin's disease, as it was called then. He was concerned with excellence.
But to me he meant a great deal more. He was my firm friend. Whenever our paths crossed, not often enough and as time permitted, I had so much pleasure from his congenial company and conversation and very expert advice on the menu and the wine list. And he was generous to a fault. On one occasion when I visited him in his office at the NCI, I commented on how much I liked a Pasta Poster on the wall. It was delivered to my home in London not long thereafter.
Eli Glatstein, M.D.
Eli Glatstein with “NCI Gang” at Positano Ristorante Italiano during Eli's NCI going‐away party, 1991.
Norman Coleman, Eli Glatstein, and Allen Lichter, ASTRO Gold Medalists, 2005.
Eli Glatstein with two desserts at “Cole Porter Night” in Friesland, The Netherlands, 2006.
Young Eli Glatstein, Julie Dennekamp, and John (Jack) Fowler, Cancer Research Campaign's Gray Laboratory, Northwood, Middlesex, UK, 1971.
(A): Eli Glatstein and “sailor” Bruce Chabner, 1991. (B): Top row (l to r): A hirsute troupe consisting of Allen Lichter, Tim Kinsella, Joel Tepper, and Dave Pistenmaa; bottom row (l to r): Alan Zabel, Eli Glatstein, Mascot “Bones,” and Jim Schwade, c 1981. (C): Eli Glatstein and Greg Curt, 1995. (D): Bruce Chabner, Eli Glatstein, and Bob Young, 1989. (E): Eli Glatstein and Bruce Chabner, 2008. (F): Davi Chabner, Eli Glatstein, and Ann Murphy, Amsterdam, 2006. (G): Eli Glatstein kissing “Eli,” with Bruce Chabner and “Lilly,” 1993.
