John Kaufmann (1924–2013)

On February 2, 2013, a great Canadian neuropathologist passed away at the University Hospital in “the other London” located in Ontario, Canada. His name was John Cassidy Ewart Kaufmann, and he created neuropathologists. That was only part of his life, which began in Umtata, South Africa, in 1924. After graduating from the University of Cape Town, where he met and married his lifetime partner Dr Suzanne Kaufmann (1920–2010), he moved with his new wife to Johannesburg in 1955.

Canada sought him out in the early 1970s at a time when Canadian neurologist Henry J.M. Barnett (“Barney”) and Canadian neurosurgeon Charles G. Drake (“Charlie”), were both committed to form a Department of Clinical Neurosciences, a new idea at the time, and decided that clinical neuropathology was an absolute necessity to integrate into such a new department. After negotiations with the tumor neuropathologist Lucien Rubinstein failed to come through and bring him to Canada, he was asked by Henry Barnett who Rubinstein himself would suggest to recruit. The answer, without hesitation, was John Kaufmann of South Africa.

John was trained by an eminent neuropathologist who was only a few years his senior: Neville Proctor (himself a disciple of Joseph Godwin Greenfield). The two comprised the entire contingent of neuropathologists in South Africa at the time. Travel to remote areas for frozen section services required the porting of CO₂ cylinders and under warm conditions, often only smears were utilized to render a diagnosis.

The idea of uprooting his entire family from South Africa was not an easy decision. His family gave him time alone to make this decision, and the idea of living with a gun under the bed for self‐defense was anathema to the soul of John Kaufmann, and played a part. Still, love of country and the sheer magnitude of the move was wrenching, and the decision to come was phoned in long distance to London, Canada 30 minutes before the deadline imposed by the University of Western Ontario (since renamed to Western University) in London.

So in 1972, John moved with his family to London, Ontario. Dr Kaufmann was one of three neuropathologists in London (along with Melvyn J. Ball and Joseph J. Gilbert) who were charged with establishing a first rate clinical neuropathology service and train a new generation of neuropathologists.

Clinicopathologic conferences (CPCs) occurred weekly and were presented by all of the residents rotating through the neuropathology service, under the watchful and somewhat paternal eye of John Kaufmann. The process of preparing and presenting these CPCs was integral to developing the confidence of the future neuropathologists and established a life‐long connection with neuropathology for the neurologists and neurosurgeons in training. For these presentations, John had the photo‐graphics department created a number of memorable “Neuropathology Presents,” introductory slides that were each a combination of art, science and history (see Figure 1). The series is “vintage Kaufmann”, showing how he believed neuropathology was part of the act (of clinical neuroscience), and should be imparted to clinical scientists “with aplomb.”

Figure 1.

Introductory slides by John Kaufmann.

During their neuropathology rotation, John arranged for each resident to be photographed and the collection of framed black‐and‐white portraits were hung with care in the residents room, Kaufmann thus creating an aura of mentorship, permanence and history. Often he would point at the photos of residents and spoke fondly of them and referred to their work or the cases they presented. One day, he pointed at the wall where the photos hung, and said there were now a total of 63 residents whom he referred as 63 “eggs” and remarked that out of these 63 “eggs,” only half an egg he would consider “rotten.” He did not elaborate on that egg with a rotten half. John spoke gently, and would not utter any harsh words against anyone. He was not judgmental and was slow to anger.

John's diagnostic acumen was obvious. One memorable example served to impress a budding neurosurgery resident, Garnette Sutherland. While operating with the already legendary Charles Drake, the two future recipients of the Order of Canada consulted John Kaufmann on a suspected tumor. His frozen section report was “reorganized thrombosed aneurysm.” Sutherland went on to publish the paper with Kaufmann 1 as it was the only one of its kind worldwide and the neurosurgeon was so awed by this diagnosis that even today, he states that he is not sure if most neuropathologists would be able to make such a diagnosis, based solely on a small frozen section.

One of John's most impressive traits was the genuine interest and care he felt for each of the trainees he encountered, evident by an obligatory morning and afternoon tea, which only a frozen section could interrupt or supplant. His personal interest in trainees would apply to any medical student even doing a brief elective. For a career neuropathology resident, fortunate enough to spend several years under his guidance, John would make a point of getting to know your background and interests and would make you feel interesting and appreciated. Many residents and junior staff were the recipients of his gentle, wise, opportune advice, and some of us have carried it through our lives.

This level of personal interest was highlighted at the biannual residents' dinners hosted by John and Suzanne at their home. These evenings were full of discussion of art, African culture, theatre, music, politics, food and wine. John would often reminisce about past trainees, their families and careers, in great detail, because he took such a genuine interest in them.

One of John's most frequent sayings was “Neuropathology never rests.” In fact, he used to say “Neuropathology never sleeps” but certain colleagues would question the accuracy of this, prompting John to a slight modification. It was always said with a slight grin, wink and gentle nod.

He touched a very many people, but a list of the neuropathologists that he “created,” would include (in chronological order) Bolek Lach, Roland Auer, Harry Vinters, Jean Michaud, Michael Farrell, Lee Cyn Ang, Ian Mackenzie and Robert Hammond.

His professional life was matched by a rich family life. Both John and Suzanne contributed mightily to the arts throughout their lives. On a visit to their home, one was surrounded with art, and sensed a depth of knowledge and appreciation by the Kaufmanns. John and Suzanne's love of travel and the arts was self‐evident. After formal retirement in 1989, John continued to appear in departmental photographs until 1992, and also took courses at Western on a diverse array of topics, including learning Mandarin Chinese. He also continued to be a dynamic presence in the Clinical Neurosciences and Pathology departments, often attending rounds or having lunch with his colleagues and friends. To the end of his retirement, he fostered contact with former trainees, including many of the signatories of this obituary in memoriam, remaining mentally sharp to the end, before succumbing to respiratory failure.

John Kaufmann's mentorship and concern for the personal and professional well‐being of his residents, colleagues and the others he came in contact with, was unmatched and is what we all remember most about him. The way he conducted his personal and professional lives was and remains inspiring. He showed an interest in all people around him, from Barney and Charlie, to the support staff. Nobody was above or below his recognition of them as a person.

John Kaufmann was predeceased by his wife Suzanne in 2010, and now leaves behind his three children, Michele, Carol and Pierre, six grandchildren and at last count, five great grandchildren. Together with the “eggs” of neuropathologists and clinical scientists he incubated, too, he leaves the world a legacy that is altogether rich, in the human sense.