Autobiographical Essays
Beate Caspari-Rosen, MD
(1910 - 1995)
An Odd Story
Last week was the memorial lecture for my husband; it takes
place annually at the rare book room of Yale University’s medical
school. My husband had been a famous professor of the history of medicine
and public health. The speaker on this particular occasion was a young
professor of the history of science in New York City, Professor David
Rosner. I had not met him previously, although had written the introduction
to my husband's last article, published ten years after his death.
One paragraph in that article had disturbed me deeply. When I met Professor
Rosner before his talk, I asked him to discuss the article with me.
He had written: "He (George Rosen) believed deeply in the progress
of society and its ability to correct and improve upon it. It was this
tremendous faith in conscious rationality and reason that powered his
extraordinarily productive life." Professor Rosner continued: "younger
historians probably do not share his assumptions regarding historical
change. Nor do they have the faith in scientific and social change.” I
wanted to know what the younger generation of historians and believed
in. His answer startled me: "Nothing." They feel that we
live-- not only in America, but in other areas of the world too--for
money, and have lost a social conscience, and that the disregard for
the poor is so regressive that their dreams of a better world has instead
become a nightmare. I could well understand him, although I believe
that ultimately there is social progress; at present, I agree that
we are at a low point in ethical standards.
But then Professor Rosner turned to me and said an odd thing. "Can
you believe that George, your husband, has become a part of me?" He
explained his remark by telling me his life story in brief. He, too,
like my husband, came from a family of immigrant Russian Jews; he grew
up in New York City and went to City College, but then, rather than
studying medicine, chose to attend Harvard’s School of Public
Health, where in the course of his studies he read George's book The
History of Public Health. It inspired and moved him so deeply,
that he decided to get his doctorate in the history of public health,
under a professor who had been inspired by George's ideas, too. After
he got his degree he became a professor at New York University and
also teaches at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York [as of 2007, he is
Professor of History and Public Health and Director of the Center for
the History and Ethics of Public Health at the School of Public Health,
Columbia University]. Then he surprised me again, when asked "Did
you live at 285 Riverside Drive before you came to New Haven?" I
nodded. He said: "I live at 290 Riverside Drive across the street
from your former apartment house, where a friend of mine, a physician
at Mt. Sinai hospital, is living. He called me some time ago and asked
me to come over. There were so many bookcases from floor to ceiling
which he was pulling out, since he needed the space. Behind one of
the bookcases he found some papers and a picture. Rosner looked at
them and found them signed G.R., my husband's initials in his easily
recognizable handwriting. And when he realized that he was standing
in George's former study, now a dining room, he had the uncanny feeling
that George was present and had become part of him.
When we moved out of this apartment in 1969, where we had lived for twenty-eight
years, the house became a cooperative and we could have bought the apartment
for $115,000 dollars; if we sold it immediately, we would have made a
nice profit. But my husband did not want to be bothered. I asked Professor
Rosner if he knew what his friends paid for the apartment four years
ago? “Eight hundred thousand dollars,” he replied. That certainly
was a missed opportunity for us.