He chaired one of the earliest Gordon Conferences on Myelin (1996), and his insights and support helped to establish these conferences as a major forum in this burgeoning field. Dave had an informal style that VE821 sought to engage and challenge the audience, drawing on classical literature and popular culture to enliven his points. A recent lecture on the role serendipity plays in science, available online (http://muhc.ca/microscope-stethoscope/article/microscope-stethoscope-2006-lectures-three-princes-serendip-introduction-breakthroughs-resea),
highlights his gifts as a speaker. He was also pleased to playfully skewer pretensions. At a later Gordon Conference, he opened a talk with spectacular images of the universe newly revealed by the Hubble Telescope, beginning his lecture with, “Just in case you thought you were working on something really important. Dave was a serious wordsmith, dedicated to the craft of writing. He often cited the quote (usually attributed
to Blaise Pascal), “I apologize for writing such a long letter; I lacked the time to make it short.” Accordingly, his articles were typically tightly written and imaginatively illustrated (on occasion, doing double duty as covers of this journal). In scientific reviews, he was able to draw on studies in disparate fields to illuminate larger points (Colman, 1999 and Dustin and Colman, 2002). He used his pulpit at the MNI to pen engaging, topical articles for a general audience in his monthly Director’s Corner columns on subjects including breakthroughs in science, the process of discovery, Selleck RAD001 global climate change, and advocating for science funding. In the belief that children should be exposed to science early on, he Non-specific serine/threonine protein kinase initiated a project to develop an IMAX film on neuroscience specifically targeting a younger audience. Completion of this project will be a fitting memorial to his efforts to bring the excitement of science to students of all ages. However, for many of us, Dave was
more than a colleague we admired: he was a treasured and loyal friend. He was graciously available with sage advice on science, academic politics, and life. Dave was also terrific company and an excellent raconteur. He was a New Yorker by nature and nurture who referred to himself as a Jewish kid from the Bronx, with urbane interests in classical music, literature (particularly Shakespeare), cooking, and fine dining. He was also an avid collector and habitué of used bookstores and estate sales, amassing a collection of some 10,000 volumes of antique books, many on medicine and science. There was also “country” Dave, who loved his summer home in Maine. Here he would catch up on writing, but perhaps more importantly, he had the time and setting to indulge his interests in ornithology, astronomy, playing the banjo, and enjoying private family time, including stargazing with his daughters.