Memorial Tribute: Maxwell Gitelson1

It is my sad obligation and honour to give expression to our grief in the loss of our late President, Dr Maxwell Gitelson, and by bringing him back into focus in our thoughts and our feelings to give some further form to our mourning and help us to make the transition from expecting to see him here this morning to acknowledging and beginning to accept his death. Dr Gitelson's death came suddenly in February (1965) from an acute coronary occlusion while he was just beginning a vacation in Florida. Although he had lived and worked under the shadow of cardiac illness for some years and must, with extraordinary courage, have habituated himself to his terrible uncertainty of life, yet when the end came it seemed unexpected and was a great shock. He had fought the possibility of death more than once much earlier in life, but in the battle of forces he had always come through with a steadfastness and a progressive hold on life, a widening of interest and an affirmation of purpose which permitted him to move ahead without personal grudges and with singularly few bitternesses, even in situations which could have defeated many of us. He was approaching his 63rd birthday and was not ready to die: he was still looking actively ahead, and his death was painful.

Only a few days before this he had been in New York and at a meeting of those members of the Central Executive Committee who could be assembled there, he had discussed matters having to do with this Congress, with a careful, thoughtful concern which showed clearly the impartiality of his vision and the assiduous work that had gone into the clarification of the problems that confronted him. He looked rather unusually well, although he was admittedly tired and glad to be off soon for a holiday.

Max Gitelson was an ambitious man, for without strong drive to attain a position in life which would merit recognition he could hardly have achieved what he did. But his personal ambitions were so fused with his genuine professi