Mr. Davis’ passing brings me back to 10th grade, sitting in the gym, hearing about a sport called “Cross Country”. I sat there, probably among the smallest in my class, too short to be gangly, too thin to be considered grown. And Mr. Davis said that this “sport” could be done by anyone. In fact, he said (and I remember it as if he were here before me) “Size doesn’t matter”. I took the bait and went out for the team…and I was pretty bad (terrible, in fact): I was next-to-last in the first time trial (1 mile that took me 7 minutes and 7 seconds to complete); the last guy to finish quit the team (can’t remember his name, but I think he became manager for a while). So I was the last/slowest member of the try-out squad

Mr. Davis called my parents personally, telling them they should gently try to get me to quit the team (he wasn’t planning to “cut” anyone because we could all fit on the bus and the rules allowed for any number of runners). That turned out to be the wrong thing to do, for it only increased my internal desire to try and stay on the team. I got better…but never very good. Despite that, I lettered in 2 of my 3 years at B-CC, being just good enough to be an integral part of the team. I continued to run, eventually doing marathons, then 50 and 100 mile runs—I was still not very good at it, just damn persistent. I was known by my colleagues in medicine around the country as a runner…At meetings, I’d be the guy who woke up early enough to go out for 5 or 6 miles before the meeting started. I ran to- and from work as I trained. If I had instead been “cut” from the BCC cross country team in 1960, my life would have been completely (and I mean completely) different. Although I don’t run any more (a torn meniscus and “very early arthritis” helped my decision-making), I had a good 54 years of running, and now I row (on a machine) for 4-6,000 meters most mornings… The “work ethic” leading to my continued training had it initiation in running for Mr. Davis. He was (and still is) one of the central influences in my life. I even wrote about him a bit in my memoir (“My Own Medicine: A Doctor’s Life as a Patient”) which described my experience as a physician with a life threatening disease (leukemia). (Spoiler alert: I survived).

I last saw Mr. Davis in Fall of 2004, when I ran a 50 mile run near Penn State in order to qualify for a 100 mile event in California. He actually saw me as I came through one of the check points/aid stations at about 30 or 35 miles and met me at the finish. We had breakfast together the next day with his wife. It was great to see him, and he’d changed but little in the long years between high school and 2004. What a guy! What an inspiration!

Geoff Kurland, MD