368
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
American Journal of Pathology
Babylonian tablets (kanu meant "reed"). The cane stands for authority: in Egyptian hieroglyphs the profile of a man leaning on a cane stands for "great one," "chief," or even "dean." The golden head speaks for itself. We inquired about the shaft. It is made of ebony and ivory-both products of fertilized protoplasm, and both, on the human scale, everlasting. Guido Majno Kurt Benirschke
Acceptance of the Gold Headed Cane Award Dr. Arthur T. Hertig
The effort spent during these many years as a pathologist, with meanderings into embryology and clinical obstetrics, was much easier than knowing just what to say now; there is always the real danger of being trite, redundant, or just plain boring. When Morris Karnovsky called me to inform me of the Council's decision to award me this cane, various emotions flitted through my mind-among them pleasure, astonishment, surprise, and, withal, a sense of unreality. I was both astounded and surprised. I know that the great lexicographer Samuel Johnson was very exact in differentiating between the verbs astound and surprise. His famous anecdote about the time he was found kissing the maidservant (presumably backstairs) resulted in this exchange between the mistress of the house and Dr. Johnson. "Why, Dr. Johnson, I am surprised," said the lady. Replied the scholar, "On the contrary, Madame, you are astounded and I am surprised!" The presumably embarrassed maidservant probably said nothing and fled further backstairs. Having a liking for words, their meanings and origins, I once looked up astound and surprise, two words that seem to be used interchangeably. I quote from that bit of dictionary research.' Astound, as an intransitive verb, comes from the Old English astound or astoned, meaning in those days "to astonish greatly; to bewilder with sudden surprise." Here we begin to see the sprouting seeds of confusion even among lexicographers. Surprise, as a verb, on the other hand, comes from the Old French, appropriately enough, from the word surpris, the combination of words meaning "above" and "to take." Its first definition is "to come or fall upon (someone or something) suddenly and unexpectedly; to come upon unawares; to take unawares." As Shakespeare said, "The castle of Macduff I will surprise." Thus, the good doctor was literally quite proper in correct-
Vol. 96, No. 2 August 1979
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
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ing the mistress. On the other hand, the sixth definition of the verb surprise is "to astound." Hence, we are all a bit confused, as undoubtedly both the mistress and Dr. Johnson were, not to mention the maid herself. In any event, these words describe my present state of mind. One wouldn't be human if one didn't wonder how a career unfolded that culminated in this present happy occasion. I firmly believe that I have been fortunate in having been in the right place at the right time. I know that Pasteur said over a hundred years ago that "in the fields of observation, chance favors only the prepared mind." Many minds in pathology, however, have been better prepared than mine, but perhaps they haven't been fortunate enough to have had Chance, Lady Luck, or Dame Fortune glance in their direction at the propitious time. A few milestones in my professional past illustrate the role chance has played: 1. I spent two years in China (1925 and 1926) working as an entomological assistant to my late brother, Marshall; we worked on the insect transmission of kala-azar, a visceral leishmaniasis, endemic in North China. 2. While in China I met Dean David L. Edsall of the Harvard Medical School. I demonstrated our technique of artificially feeding sand flies of the genus Phlebotomus; this resulted in my first paper.2 Fortunately we had one unfed female sand fly remaining at the end of the breeding season. The successful demonstration apparently impressed Dr. Edsall, so I was informed years later in Boston by his son, John Edsall. 3. In any event, this encounter with Dr. Edsall helped to gain me admission to Harvard Medical School as a third-year transfer student from Minnesota. (Fortunately, my sister and her late husband, George F. Stoll, supported me those two years, relieving me of the former necessity of working while going to school.) 4. This led to a summer job with Professor S. Burt Wolbach, with whom my brother, Marshall, worked in 1922. My job was to release a small parasitic wasp on Martha's Vineyard in an attempt to control the prevalent and bothersome wood ticks. Part of the job also was to trap field mice on whom immature wood ticks fed-presumably parasitized by the wasps-and thus determine the percentage of the wood tick population infested from prior parasite liberation. (Only one in 400 ticks harbored the small parasitic wasps-hardly a good biologic control). 5. A year in general pathology at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital with Dr. Wolbach began my career in pathology. 6. This led to a residency in pathology at the Boston Lying-in Hospital,
370
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
American Journal of Pathology
where I started the new laboratory in 1931. (My clinical colleagues as well as fellow pathologists assured me that there was no future in obstetric pathology; childbirth was a normal physiologic process.) 7. After a year in children's pathology, I spent a year in embryology under Dr. George L. Streeter at the Department of Embryology of the Carnegie Institution of Washington in Baltimore. There I learned about the pathogenesis of spontaneous abortion and how to search for early fertilized ova in the rhesus monkey. The same technique was later applied to searching for human ova. 8. Nearly two years in clinical obstetrics (1936-1938) under Professor Frederick C. Irving were spent between being pathologist at the Lying-in and later at the Free Hospital for Women. Thus I became immersed in the various disciplines that comprise female reproduction. 9. A close association with Dr. John Rock (of "pill" fame) resulted in our successful search for a series of early fertilized human ova ranging in age from 1 to 17 days. This study continued for 15 years. 10. After 16 years as a practicing hospital pathologist in the two women's hospitals, 18 years were spent as Chairman of Pathology at Harvard; these were followed by 10 happy years at the Primate Center. As I look back at these nearly 50 years of interest in the problems of the female pelvis-a long period of dystocia-I believe that I have learned a few general principles and many facts. a. We all stand on the shoulders of our teachers and our associates. Didacus Stella said it in Latin during the 12th or 13th century"Pigmaei gigantum humeris impositi plusquam ipsi gigantes vident," which, translated, says, "Pigmies placed on the shoulders of giants see more than the giants themselves."3 (Little children on the shoulders of a father have known this since time immemorial.) The list of previous recipients of the Gold Headed Cane is truly awe-inspiring. Their footprints are large indeed and difficult to follow. b. One must take the job but not one's self seriously. c. There is little correlation between the quality of the work in the laboratory and its fancy equipment. (I believe we still need highpowered workers using low-powered tools.) d. What one does as a morphologic pathologist is in large measure predicated on the routine material of the laboratory ("The morphology, the more fun" -original but bad pun). e. The pathologist contributes to normal anatomy and physiology as well as to his own specialty. f. And, finally, a combination of service pathology, research, teaching at
Vol. 96, No. 2 August 1979
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
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all levels, and consultation is a most rewarding way to have spent nearly half a century in our field. "Miles O'Reilly" (truly named Charles Graham Halpine [1829-1868]) summed it up very well when he wrote, So don't despise the little things Which happen daily round us, For some of them may chance take wings To startle and astound us.
In closing, may I say that I am astounded at, surprised by, and grateful for this unique honor you have bestowed upon me today. References 1. Hertig AT: On accepting an award. Pathologist 27(2):54-56, 1973 2. Hertig AT, Hertig M: A technique for the artificial feeding of sand flies (Phlebotomus) and mosquitoes. Science 65:328-329, 1927 3. Burton R: Anatomy of Melancholy, Familiar Quotations. Edited by John Bartlett. 12th edition. Boston, Little Brown & Co., 1953, p 122
372
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
[End of Article]
American Journal of Pathology
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
American Journal of Pathology
Babylonian tablets (kanu meant "reed"). The cane stands for authority: in Egyptian hieroglyphs the profile of a man leaning on a cane stands for "great one," "chief," or even "dean." The golden head speaks for itself. We inquired about the shaft. It is made of ebony and ivory-both products of fertilized protoplasm, and both, on the human scale, everlasting. Guido Majno Kurt Benirschke
Acceptance of the Gold Headed Cane Award Dr. Arthur T. Hertig
The effort spent during these many years as a pathologist, with meanderings into embryology and clinical obstetrics, was much easier than knowing just what to say now; there is always the real danger of being trite, redundant, or just plain boring. When Morris Karnovsky called me to inform me of the Council's decision to award me this cane, various emotions flitted through my mind-among them pleasure, astonishment, surprise, and, withal, a sense of unreality. I was both astounded and surprised. I know that the great lexicographer Samuel Johnson was very exact in differentiating between the verbs astound and surprise. His famous anecdote about the time he was found kissing the maidservant (presumably backstairs) resulted in this exchange between the mistress of the house and Dr. Johnson. "Why, Dr. Johnson, I am surprised," said the lady. Replied the scholar, "On the contrary, Madame, you are astounded and I am surprised!" The presumably embarrassed maidservant probably said nothing and fled further backstairs. Having a liking for words, their meanings and origins, I once looked up astound and surprise, two words that seem to be used interchangeably. I quote from that bit of dictionary research.' Astound, as an intransitive verb, comes from the Old English astound or astoned, meaning in those days "to astonish greatly; to bewilder with sudden surprise." Here we begin to see the sprouting seeds of confusion even among lexicographers. Surprise, as a verb, on the other hand, comes from the Old French, appropriately enough, from the word surpris, the combination of words meaning "above" and "to take." Its first definition is "to come or fall upon (someone or something) suddenly and unexpectedly; to come upon unawares; to take unawares." As Shakespeare said, "The castle of Macduff I will surprise." Thus, the good doctor was literally quite proper in correct-
Vol. 96, No. 2 August 1979
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
369
ing the mistress. On the other hand, the sixth definition of the verb surprise is "to astound." Hence, we are all a bit confused, as undoubtedly both the mistress and Dr. Johnson were, not to mention the maid herself. In any event, these words describe my present state of mind. One wouldn't be human if one didn't wonder how a career unfolded that culminated in this present happy occasion. I firmly believe that I have been fortunate in having been in the right place at the right time. I know that Pasteur said over a hundred years ago that "in the fields of observation, chance favors only the prepared mind." Many minds in pathology, however, have been better prepared than mine, but perhaps they haven't been fortunate enough to have had Chance, Lady Luck, or Dame Fortune glance in their direction at the propitious time. A few milestones in my professional past illustrate the role chance has played: 1. I spent two years in China (1925 and 1926) working as an entomological assistant to my late brother, Marshall; we worked on the insect transmission of kala-azar, a visceral leishmaniasis, endemic in North China. 2. While in China I met Dean David L. Edsall of the Harvard Medical School. I demonstrated our technique of artificially feeding sand flies of the genus Phlebotomus; this resulted in my first paper.2 Fortunately we had one unfed female sand fly remaining at the end of the breeding season. The successful demonstration apparently impressed Dr. Edsall, so I was informed years later in Boston by his son, John Edsall. 3. In any event, this encounter with Dr. Edsall helped to gain me admission to Harvard Medical School as a third-year transfer student from Minnesota. (Fortunately, my sister and her late husband, George F. Stoll, supported me those two years, relieving me of the former necessity of working while going to school.) 4. This led to a summer job with Professor S. Burt Wolbach, with whom my brother, Marshall, worked in 1922. My job was to release a small parasitic wasp on Martha's Vineyard in an attempt to control the prevalent and bothersome wood ticks. Part of the job also was to trap field mice on whom immature wood ticks fed-presumably parasitized by the wasps-and thus determine the percentage of the wood tick population infested from prior parasite liberation. (Only one in 400 ticks harbored the small parasitic wasps-hardly a good biologic control). 5. A year in general pathology at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital with Dr. Wolbach began my career in pathology. 6. This led to a residency in pathology at the Boston Lying-in Hospital,
370
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
American Journal of Pathology
where I started the new laboratory in 1931. (My clinical colleagues as well as fellow pathologists assured me that there was no future in obstetric pathology; childbirth was a normal physiologic process.) 7. After a year in children's pathology, I spent a year in embryology under Dr. George L. Streeter at the Department of Embryology of the Carnegie Institution of Washington in Baltimore. There I learned about the pathogenesis of spontaneous abortion and how to search for early fertilized ova in the rhesus monkey. The same technique was later applied to searching for human ova. 8. Nearly two years in clinical obstetrics (1936-1938) under Professor Frederick C. Irving were spent between being pathologist at the Lying-in and later at the Free Hospital for Women. Thus I became immersed in the various disciplines that comprise female reproduction. 9. A close association with Dr. John Rock (of "pill" fame) resulted in our successful search for a series of early fertilized human ova ranging in age from 1 to 17 days. This study continued for 15 years. 10. After 16 years as a practicing hospital pathologist in the two women's hospitals, 18 years were spent as Chairman of Pathology at Harvard; these were followed by 10 happy years at the Primate Center. As I look back at these nearly 50 years of interest in the problems of the female pelvis-a long period of dystocia-I believe that I have learned a few general principles and many facts. a. We all stand on the shoulders of our teachers and our associates. Didacus Stella said it in Latin during the 12th or 13th century"Pigmaei gigantum humeris impositi plusquam ipsi gigantes vident," which, translated, says, "Pigmies placed on the shoulders of giants see more than the giants themselves."3 (Little children on the shoulders of a father have known this since time immemorial.) The list of previous recipients of the Gold Headed Cane is truly awe-inspiring. Their footprints are large indeed and difficult to follow. b. One must take the job but not one's self seriously. c. There is little correlation between the quality of the work in the laboratory and its fancy equipment. (I believe we still need highpowered workers using low-powered tools.) d. What one does as a morphologic pathologist is in large measure predicated on the routine material of the laboratory ("The morphology, the more fun" -original but bad pun). e. The pathologist contributes to normal anatomy and physiology as well as to his own specialty. f. And, finally, a combination of service pathology, research, teaching at
Vol. 96, No. 2 August 1979
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
371
all levels, and consultation is a most rewarding way to have spent nearly half a century in our field. "Miles O'Reilly" (truly named Charles Graham Halpine [1829-1868]) summed it up very well when he wrote, So don't despise the little things Which happen daily round us, For some of them may chance take wings To startle and astound us.
In closing, may I say that I am astounded at, surprised by, and grateful for this unique honor you have bestowed upon me today. References 1. Hertig AT: On accepting an award. Pathologist 27(2):54-56, 1973 2. Hertig AT, Hertig M: A technique for the artificial feeding of sand flies (Phlebotomus) and mosquitoes. Science 65:328-329, 1927 3. Burton R: Anatomy of Melancholy, Familiar Quotations. Edited by John Bartlett. 12th edition. Boston, Little Brown & Co., 1953, p 122
372
GOLD HEADED CANE AWARD
[End of Article]
American Journal of Pathology
