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I AM HONORED TO BE ABLE TO SPEAK tonight at this memorial service for Dr. John Schimel before his family, friends and the colleagues of the William Alanson White Psychoanalytic Institute who knew him so well. My heart goes out to his wife, Phyllis, their children and their families who have lost a wonderful husband, father and beloved human being. All of us have lost a great man, a wise man, a tender man who was our friend and mentor, professor and confidant.
Jack Schimel was my analyst for many years. He changed the course of my life in virtually every way I could imagine. I first met Dr. Schimel in June, 1970. I was just completing the first year of my psychiatric residency at Columbia. I was in considerable emotional turmoil. After seeing two senior analysts from another institute in consultation and not feeling very hopeful about working with them, a second year resident and friend of mine referred me to Jack Schimel. "This guy can deal with you, Allen" was what he told me. I remained dubious because my experiences with five previous therapists had been poor.
My first visit to Dr. Schimel's office at 40 Gramercy Park North was remarkable. I anxiously waited in what seemed a very narrow outside hallway area. The door to the inner sanctum opened and the patient before me exited rapidly. A portly, late middle-aged man with long graying hair, sideburns, and a mustache stood at the door. He had a piercing, but whimsical look. He motioned