Danny Nachshen z"l November 5, 1947 — December 16, 1986

The hole in my heart, filled with your absence.

• One moonless star filled night, when we were barely 16, Danny asked me to come with him out to a field far from any visible lights. He had an astronomy chart, candle and matches, and we spent two timeless hours hunched over the chart, blowing out the candle, then lying on our backs, trying to find the constellations in the night sky. Invariably it was Danny who located in the skies, what the chart promised. My cousin could find his way in the darkness.
• When we were ten, we volunteered to be part of the first summer camp swim across Lake Otty. His best stroke at the time was an unimpressive dog paddle, and I (presumptuously) cautioned him that he may not be up for the distance. He scoffed and guffawed, and confidently dog paddled — with not the slightest notion of self doubt — across the lake and back, and beat me to the shore. From our early teens until our last conversations, we had a tradition of discussing and debating the nature of God, the meaning of life, philosophy, quantum physics, sex, death, love, and everything in between. He told me he wrote poetry. I had never known anyone who wrote poetry, and I was embarrassed to admit I didn't understand its significance. Why would anyone write poetry? But he said it with such matter-of-factness that I knew instinctively it was one more thing Danny was initiating me into.
• Shortly after his Bar Mitzvah he stopped coming around. My mother told me he was ill, “but not in a physical way”. There was no end to my questions but other than deep concern, my mother had few answers. A month seemed like a year, and when he finally walked into our Erev Shabbat, I FLEW across the room to greet him, screaming his name. Danny was back. We were soul brothers from that moment onward. He introduced me to patterns in the night skies, and what happens when patterns fall apart; and how poetry is a way to describe both.
• Danny was an unlikely daredevil, and didn’t look the part. His courage was understated, and in contrast to his pensive demeanour. He took his principals seriously, and I have seen him put if not his life, at least his limbs in real danger for those principals. A car driven by ‘rednecks’ had cut us off, forced us up against the sidewalk, and then menacingly taunted us: “Long noses! Kikes!” They dared us to get out of the car and Danny was the first to move. I grabbed the door handle desperately, “Danny, they have a baseball bat in the front seat!" I pleaded, terrified of those hooligans. "We have to, Philip, they called us long noses.” There was nothing theoretical about his code of honour, nor his principles, nor his steadfast loyalty to his family. He was fluent in Hebrew, Yiddish and French, and once told me he wanted to learn German to read certain books in the original. His destiny was to be a scholar and scientist, and our first camp counsellor dubbed him The Professor, when we were nine years old! He taught me how to suck the nectar out of certain plants, how to play backgammon, eat artichokes, make avocados tasty, and the Hebrew word for “notwithstanding” when I visited him once in Jerusalem.
• One of our rituals was going for log jogs together. The Tuesday he took his last breath, I went for a ten kilometre run, searching the night skies for my cousin. I was an ant on an erupting emotional volcano, and the world was imploding within me. I was a thirteen year old wondering what on earth happened to my buddy. My shoe lace came undone three times (!) on that run, and each time I swear I could feel him looking at me and smirking as I knelt to retie them. Truth be told, to this day I don’t know if it was Danny untying my shoe or me hoping it was, but the sky was more immense that night than I had ever experienced it, and the stars more out of reach, and my questions, never more futile.
• One of my favourite Danny memories is of us walking backwards in freshly fallen snow, two in the morning in Cote St. Luc, singing as loudly as we could: “…like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried, in my way, to be free…” while watching the trail of our footprints extending away from us, in Montreal's winter wonderland.
• I think of Danny every day, and miss him terribly. As the years go by, the pain persists, true, but I must say, my treasure chest of memories is becoming more and more accessible. My appreciation of what we had together, and how blessed I was to have him as part of my heart and life, grows.
• We both admired Einstein and referred to him often when discussing Life’s mysteries. Will there ever be a time when we understand everything? "We can't" Danny said emphatically, “so is the nature of Mystery.” And coming from a poet scientist, I knew he was right.
• Twenty six years later, I take comfort in watching his beautiful sons, each in their own way, reflect the tones and colours of Danny's integrity, sense of justice, the gentleman that he was, the thinker, the man of honour, the man of loyalty. I take comfort in his family, holding their heads high all these years, and keeping their hearts open and their lives vital, in spite of the tragedy, as a testament to Danny's beautiful spirit. I take endless comfort in sharing Danny memories with others, and revisiting the streets we walked and jogged together, and the skies we so tried to fathom.
• Hey Nachshon - miss you 'til it hurts buddy, love you as ever and always, and more.
• Philip

I was about 8 years old, and my Dad and I were taking subway in New York. A blind man needed someone to help him get to his train -- he had been asking people for help for about 20 minutes but everybody ignored him... we knew this because he told this to my Dad as we were taking him to his subway. Danny was a real mentsch

Mike

December 6, 2002

Remembering Danny brings a rush of memories never far from mind. Like our trip to New York city together when we were 14-15 on our own...hitchhinking! A wierd guy wanting to take us back to his room...(we didn't go) Danny figuring out how no one could get three baseballs in teh basket at Coney Island and telling a guy not to play, 'cause it's fixed. We end up running for our lives after the kiosk guy sends a goon after us.

We stuff our selves with hot dogs and fried chicken and go back to Grisha's and Mildred's and theyv'e prepared a huge supper of chicken for us which we couldn't refuse. Danny offering to drink my glass of vegetable juice which Grisha freshly juiced for us, cause I knew I'd be sick if I did.

A wonderful companion, friend. Loving father. He told me he had to break our childhood vow of never getting married, 'cause he never knew then that he would meet someone so wonderful as Judy.

Years later, in a hospital bed, life slowly slipping away, he says to me one night: Send my love to everyone.

We miss you , Professor.

Cousin Peter

December 4, 2002

Sixteen years ago Tragedy struck much much too hard. We are still recovering.

Daniel Abraham Nachshen, zÓl

Dec. 16, 1986 Kislev 14, 5747

Cousin Danny, a beloved and revered son, brother, father, husband, and a dear dear soul friend.

The hole in my heart, filled with his absence.

May his memory inspire us beyond the pain, and may plentiful blessings grace his family.

Cousin Philip

December 1, 2002

Introduction from the brochure for the Seventh Annual Daniel A. Nachshen Memorial Lecture, University of Maryland School of Medicine, Department of Physiology, November 14, 1996.

Daniel A. Nachshen was born in Montreal, Canada on November 5, 1947. He was an undergraduate at McGill University, and at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and in 1970 was awarded a B.Sc. with Honours in Physiology and Biochemistry. He received his doctoral training in Physiology and Pharmacology at the Tel Aviv University School of Medicine, and was awarded a Ph.D. in 1979. During his years in Israel, Danny met and married Dr. Judith Stamberg, a clinical geneticist; their two sons are Michael and Saul.

As a research fellow at the Washington University School of Medicine (1977-1979), Danny initiated very fruitful studies on the properties of calcium channels in presynaptic nerve terminals that were to remain a focus of his throughout his career. Using tracer flux methods, he discovered that the presynaptic calcium channels were insensitive to dihydropyidines and, thus, differed from most previously characterised calcium channels.

Danny Nachshen was appointed an Assistant Professor of Physiology at the University of Maryland School of Medicine in 1979. At Maryland he expanded his work on presynaptic nerve terminals to include studies of pH regulation as well as calcium metabolism. He developed very warm personal relationships with many colleagues that led to a number of collaborative studies.

In 1983, Danny moved to the Department of Physiology at Cornell Medical College in New York; he was promoted to the rank of Associate Professor in 1986. He continued to expand his research horizons: In addition to his various studies he initiated work on calcium metabolism in human lymphoid cells. Danny was awarded a New York Heart Association Investigatorship in 1983 and a Cornell Scholarship in Biomedical Sciences in 1984.

Danny died prematurely on December 16, 1986, just as his career was coming into full bloom. His many friends and colleagues established this lectureship to honour the memory of an individual whose personal qualities and approach to science set an outstanding example for all of us.

In Memoriam

Dr. Daniel A. Nachshen

(1947-1986)

From The Window, The New York Hospital-Cornell Medical Center, March 1987

Dr. Daniel A. Nachshen, an associate professor of physiology at Cornell University Medical College and a brilliant young scientist, died on December 16 at the age of 39. He had been ill with cancer.

Dr. Nachshen joined CUMC in 1983 as one of the first "Cornell Scholars in Biomedical Sciences," a program designed to identify, recruit, and support young scientists who have shown exceptional talent in biomedical research.

At CUMC, Dr. Nachshen's research focused on calcium transport across cell membranes and on substances transmitting signals between cells in the central nervous system. Such research was supported, in part, by a three-year grant from the National Institute of Neurological and Communicative Disorders and Stroke.

Before coming to CUMC, Dr. Nachshen was an assistant professor of physiology at the University of Maryland School of Medicine for four years. He received his Ph.D. degree in physiology from Tel-Aviv University Medical School in 1979.

"Dr. Nachshen made pioneering contributions to the field of medicine through his studies of the central nervous system. He was much loved and will be greatly missed," noted CUMC dean, Dr. Thomas H. Meikle Jr.

Dr. Nachshen is survived by his wife, Judith, and two children.