Organizers, colleagues, ladies and gentlemen, 
            and above all, dear Don, everything is evolution, and every new field 
            in medicine has its beginnings and its pioneers. The story of pediatric 
            oncology is a short but fascinating one, now covering 40 years, a 
            time span considered holy since biblical times. In Germany, that is, 
            in West Germany or the Federal Republic of Germany, the real and effective 
            pediatric oncology has an even shorter history, and its beginning 
            is closely connected with Dr. Pinkel's name. It is thus a great pleasure 
            and an honor to introduce Donald Pinkel.  
            I could now present to you Don Pinkel's scientific career, or when 
            and where he was born I think it must have been 1926, somewhere in 
            the USA or mention the many awards he received, the last, if I remember 
            correctly, being the most prestigious and substantial Charles Kettering 
            prize from the General Motors Foundation in 1986, but I will confine 
            myself to some personal memories and what I have learned from him. 
             
            The first time I met Don Pinkel was on the last day of August in 1960, 
            at a barbecue at Dr. Oleg Selawry's residence on Grand Island, near 
            the Niagara falls, Buffalo, N .Y. I had just completed my internship 
            in the Pacific Northwest, and, on the way back visited the famous 
            Roswell Park Memorial Institute. Don Pinkel was chief of pediatrics 
            there and had also been invited by Oleg Selawry. I will never forget 
            what Don told me during that hot and humid Midwest evening about teaching 
            medical students: "With a patient, the most important thing is, to 
            observe, to examine, and to state the physical findings absolutely 
            correctly, and then to do a proper evaluation. As to the pathogenesis 
            of a disease, you can read about this everywhere in a book, but the 
            patient is unique!"  
            The second time I spoke to Don was on the telephone, calling from 
            Munich to Memphis. It was on a Tuesday, the 18th of May, 1971. The 
            mother of a freshly diagnosed 6-year-old boy with acute lymphoblastic 
            leukemia (ALL) urged me to call Dr. Pinkel. She had just read in the 
            German news magazine Der Spiegel about an almost 20% 5-year-cure rate 
            for ALL achieved by Dr. Pinkel's group at St. Jude's Hospital, published 
            in the Journal of the American Medical Association at the end of April. 
            I had my doubts, but on the phone he told me something about "total 
            therapy," including radiation of the central nervous system, about 
            aggressive multiagent therapy up to the biological tolerance of the 
            patient, and about 300 or more active patients with ALL currently 
            under treatment at St. Jude's; I was curious to see with my own eyes. 
            Together with Dr. Gregor Heinze, our local radiotherapist, we arrived 
            at St. Jude's on Friday, May 28, 1971, and were able to study all 
            the treatment modalities in the utmost detail. Back home, our patient 
            Markus received the first dose of cranial irradiation on June 8, 1971 
            the first one in Germany; by the way, he is now a healthy university 
            student and was put on Pinkel therapy, as well called this ALL management 
            all over Germany. This Pinkel therapy consisted of induction, CNS 
            irradiation, and continuation therapy lasting 2-3 years. This treatment 
            protocol was easy to understand and to apply. Within several months 
            allmost all institutions in Ger many were treating children with leukemia 
            according to Pinkel. This was our first nationwide trial in ALL: 659 
            patients were registered, and about 240, or 36%, were cured. The lesson 
            I learned from Don in pediatric oncology was that treatment should 
            be not only specific and effective but also simple, safe, and cheap, 
            so that everyone, everywhere can administer it. This so-called Pinkel 
            therapy was the right beginning in our country, which is federally 
            organized with so many small kings, kingdoms and opinions. We all 
            gained experience with the side effects of toxic chemotherapy and 
            with complications of the disease, and, above all, we were now able 
            to cure children. We were ideally prepared to take on an even greater 
            challenge, the prolongation and intensification of the induction period, 
            developed by Hansjörg Riehm in our country.  
            Many more times thereafter I had the opportunity to come to Memphis, 
            and many members of the St. Jude's family came to Germany in the years 
            to follow. I was happy to arrange for a most remarkable lecture on 
            treating children with leukemia that Don gave at Children's University 
            Hospital in Munich, on September 8, 1971. 
            The third and most unforgettable lesson I owe to Don Pinkel, however 
            , evolved during a dinner with live lobsters he invited me to Memphis. 
            According to my diary, it was Wednesday, April 12, 1972. It was after 
            the tenth anniversary of St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital, 
            which now had become a world leader in the research and treatment 
            of childhood cancer. Don told me about the initial difficulties this 
            institution had had; it started as a dream, as an idea in the minds 
            of Danny Thomas and Don. Going to Memphis at that time, he said, was 
            like going into undeveloped territory. But setbacks are also challenges. 
            He told me about those German Jewish professors who had been his teachers, 
            who, after persecution and emigration were glad and humble to be in 
            medicine again, even with a low income and no honors.  
            "Humiliation makes better men!" This is what you said, Don, and what 
            always helped me to overcome frustrations and failures. And you, yourself, 
            set examples, not minding working in clinics, even as a director, 
            or making night calls. But I should not dwell on humiliation, but 
            instead should close in your particular case with the beginning of 
            the hillbilly song: "It is hard to be humble, if you are perfect in 
            every way. .." 
            It is a great thing that you are here, Don.  
            Thank you for coming.  | 
         
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