When we were 16 years old, he asked me to come with him one moonless night to sit in a field at the Hachshara, far from any visible lights. He had an astronomy chart and a candle and matches, and we spent two timeless hours, with a cool New Jersey spring wind blowing, hunched over the stars on the chart, blowing out the candle, lying on our backs, and trying to find the constellations in the night sky. My cousin found his way in the darkness, without fear.

When we were ten, we volunteered to be part of the first camp swim across Lake Otty. His best stroke at that time was the dog paddle, and I cautioned him that he may not be up for the distance. He scoffed, and dog paddled with his natural determination, never even the slightest notion of self doubt. From our early teens, we had a tradition of discussing and debating the nature of God, the meaning of life, philosophy, quantum physics, sex, death, and love. He told me he wrote poetry. I had never heard of anyone in my circle of family and friends who wrote poetry, and I was embarrassed to admit I didn't know if that was a good thing. Why would anyone write poetry? But he said it with such a matter-of-factness that I knew instinctively it was one more thing Danny was initiating me into.

He had an emotional meltdown after his Bar Mitzvah. He stopped coming to the ken, and my mother, in a concerned tone, told me he was sick, but not physically. There was no end to my questions and curiosity but my mother had few answers. A month seemed like a year, and when he finally walked into the ken, with Issie and Florence at his side, I flew (uncharacteristically) across the room shouting his name. 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. His courage was understated and often in contrast to his gentle analytical mind. He took his principals seriously, and I have seen him put if not his life, at least his limbs in real danger for his principals. A car had cut us off, and the rednecks yelled at us "long noses" and "kikes". Then they challenged us to get out of the car. "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" he said without a thought for his safety. Their was nothing theoretical about his code of honour... not in how he related to Shiffy, his parents, his grandparents, Judy, nor his socialist zionist politics.

One of my favorite memories with him is walking backwards in freshly fallen snow in Cote St. Luc, at two in the morning, singing as loudly as we could, Leonard Cohen's "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 know I don't only speak for myself when I say his death is a tragedy we are still trying to come to terms with. I will go to my grave missing him, and asking some of the same questions we used to ponder together... "Why?"

But he would not approve of me ending on a pessimistic tone. We both admired Einstein and referred to him often in trying to solve life's mysteries. Will there ever be a time when we understand everything? "We can't" Danny said emphatically. It is the nature of Mystery. And coming from a poet scientist, I know he's right.

Twenty years later, the wound is as deep and as raw. I take comfort in the memories. I take comfort in watching Saul and Michael each in their own way, reflect the tones and vibrations of Danny's integrity and sense of justice, the gentle man that he was, and the innovator. I take comfort in Issie and Shiffy and Judy being strong, holding their heads high, in spite of the tragedy, as a testament to Danny's wonderful spirit, and as a reflection of the depth of the love he so deserved. I take comfort in sharing memories with others, and often revisiting the streets we walked and jogged together, and the skies we tried to fathom.

Hey Cuz, miss you 'til it hurts, love you as ever and always, and more.

Philip
December 4, 2006

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

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)

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.

Photo from the Herzeliah High School Yearbook, 1987.