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FW: Myron Stocking RIPThursday, October 30, 2008 6:33 PM
From: "Elizabeth P Garren"
To: istocking2000@yahoo.com
from Bo Lyons in San Francisco
-----Original Message-----
From: Arthur E. Lyons [mailto:artlyons@pacbell.net]
Sent: Friday, October 17, 2008 1:57 AM
To: epgarren@comcast.net
Subject: Myron Stocking RIP
I first met Myron in 1951 when we were starting medical school in
Nashville at Vanderbilt. For both of us, we were fish out of water. We
were the only northerners in our class of 50 and felt relatively
isolated as yankees in a class of southern gentlemen. There are many
things I recall about him. The following are a few personal anecdotes
that came to mind when I heard about his recent death.
From the beginning Myron and I seemed to have a lot in common and we
shared in many experiences both in and out of school. But Myron
always seemed to march to the rhythm of his own drum. I found that
his quirky sense of humor was immensly entertaining and I always
seemed to be laughing around him. I recall hitchhiking with him to
New York one time where he met with my family and my younger sister's
friends. They still talk about his seemingly endless appetite as he
raided every icebox he encountered. One of our rides was through the
east Tennessee hills in the dark in a car driven by a single but very
tough country woman who quickly told us frigid and tired medical
students that she was packing a pistol and was prepared to use it if
we tried anything "funny",- the very last thing on our minds as I
propped my eyes open to keep her awake with conversation while Myron
immediately fell asleep snoring in the back. After a lot of
encouragement he finally got up enough nerve to stick a needle into a
vein in my arm in our class of clinical medicine where we were
partners. He was a born psychiatrist. At the first sight of blood
coming back in the syringe he promptly passed out and with the needle
still in my arm I had to catch him to keep him from hitting the
floor! He managed to kill off his dog in physiology class at the
convenient time of 5PM in order to get to a date. When he explained to
our instructor, a taciturn Chinese professor of few words, Dr. Meng
simply told Myron: "Dog cheap. Get new dog!" That was that for Myron's
date for that night. Convinced he could train himself out of a
lifetime of nearsightedness, he tried going without his glasses for a
while. I don't know how he kept from getting killed when he tried to
drive, but when I was with him I had too talk him through the traffic
just to keep myself alive. He was once convinced that he was being
enslaved by time and so gave up wearing a watch. He made up for it by
asking the time every five minutes, making himself a veritable pain
in the arse. Needless to say, forced by his long suffering family he
soon resorted to his glasses and wristwatch again.
The funniest thing about Myron was that he had no idea how funny and
entertaining he was. I was only one of his loyal friends. His later
life was frequently disturbed and unfortunately occasionally marked
with delusion and restlessness. I am afraid he was frequently unhappy
and clearly depended on on his devoted friends and family. Though I
saw him only rarely in recent years, I spoke to him often by phone
and I treasure the recollection of his knowledgable, often amusing and
erudite conversations.
I and everyone who knew him will surely miss him. Myron was truly
unique.
Arthur E. Lyons MD
2320 Sutter St. #202
San Francisco CA
94115
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