EULOGY FOR MALCOLM GLUCKMAN -BY HAROLD GLUCKMAN

I am Malcolm's father. "Was" may be more correct, but at this time I'm confused as to whether I should be using "am" or "was". I am a strong, Jewish, South African man, who hardly shed a tear throughout his life, but in the past few weeks I have been bawling like a baby.

We have lost a wonderful, brave person - a joy to all who knew him. Lately, Shirley and I have discovered many things about our son - all incredibly good and many surprising. People have been telling us how he had an effect on everyone who came in contact with him, and so many have said they had a special relationship with him.

There is a long list of achievements that can be read out about Malcolm, but you can read his obituary in the Chronicle to learn what an amazing fellow he was. I am going to tell you two stories about Malcolm to try and capture the spirit of my dear son.

When Malcolm was about 17, he lived in the apartment that was attached to our house and he had a separate entrance and phone. His curfew was 12 midnight and he was required to call us when he arrived home so would regularly call between 12 and 12.30am, often waking us. One night, I was walking the dog right outside Malcolm's room carrying the phone when it rang. Malcolm cheerfully says to me: "Dad! I'm home". Well! I'm looking into Malcolm's room, which was dark and empty. The next morning, I told Malcolm to forget about calling us when he came home.

While at college, I got a call from Malcolm, who was attending UT in Austin, to tell me that he had been appointed a "Texas Cowboy". Now, being from South Africa, I knew very little about fraternities, so I asked him what that meant. "Oh! We get to shoot the cannon off at half-time during the football games", he told me. Big deal, I thought. Some time later, I attended the home coming game in Austin and went with him to a cocktail party for the "Cowboys". There I discovered that many prominent people were members, Walter Cronkite and the Texas Governor, to name a few and that they were a very elite group, each fraternity electing only one student per semester as a member. It was a very great honor that Malcolm's peers had elected him. I was very impressed and tell this story to show this great man's humility and reserved nature.

Malcolm was a sports nut. He was an excellent sportsman himself, especially in swimming and soccer. He attended two World Cup tournaments and the Olympic Games. I admire him for taking the time off to do things he really enjoyed, which is something most of us believe we do not have enough time to do.

For the past 5 months, Malcolm suffered tremendous pain, but never complained. Even hours before he passed away, when the doctor asked him how he was, he nodded his head and whispered, "I'm fine". He was too weak to talk or to lift his hand. He was the bravest man I know.

There are two charities listed in the "Chronicle" for donations in Malcolm's name, but Malcolm himself would be happier if you would sign up as organ donors as well.