In Memoriam

I think I can best express what Harry Gershman has meant to us at the Institute if I start by telling of my first experience with him.

I went to his office on a cold and blustery day in the winter of 1972 for what we call a preapplication interview. I had heard a little about Harry prior to this first meeting. I had been told that he was a warm, gentle, and good man, but this had done little to quell my anxiety about this first meeting with the Dean of the Institute. He invited me into his office, and almost immediately I realized I was in the presence of someone who would be accepting and interested in me. He listened attentively to my questions and answered them thoughtfully. After a while he asked if I would be interested in staying a while and talking with him. He said this could count as an actual Institute interview for admission if I chose to apply. The transition to such an interview was so smooth that by the time I began to reveal my personal problems, I no longer felt I was with a stranger. I felt comfortable, accepted, and in the presence of a nonjudgmental, gentle, and loving man. That interview, after 15 years of innumerable times spent together in class after class, in meeting after meeting, and at social event after social event, will always stand as an accurate example of the atmosphere that Harry created for all of us in the group.

Harry's unpretentious, accepting, and tolerant style always served to bring an air of calmness and rationality even in times of heated discussions. As Dean of the Institute for 18 years, Harry was the chairman of the Faculty Council, the hub of activity of the Institute. As he chaired meetings, week in and week out, year after year, I would always notice his measured judgment after all of us said our piece. He always came down on the side of compassion when judging another human being. Never once did pathology