Gordon Maurer

Gordon Bostwick Maurer, M.D. (30 May 1899 – 12 Nov. 1938)

In the news

Snow Machine for Physician

One of the most unique conveyances in Margaretville is the snowflyer of Dr. G. B. Maurer. The local Chevrolet agency bought a caterpillar tread for the physician’s coupe and this has been installed at the rear of the machine. The front is equipped with broad runners or wheels, these being interchangeable.

The contrivance has been operated some time during the last week and the doctor says that he could hunt foxes with it as it seems to have an ability to go anywhere. The only disappointment is that there has been no snow. Somewhat similar rigs in Vermont in use by physicians and mail carriers travel the deepest snows and highest drifts with ease. ―  (17 Feb. 1928)

Dr. Maurer May Leave Here Health Will Not Permit Constant Demands Made on Him

Dr. Gordon B. Maurer who has established one of the most successful medical practices in this section of the state, is planning to leave Margaretville.

The reason for his decision is that his health will not permit the constant demands upon his time. Few men have left medical schools and established in such a short time the reputation that Dr. Maurer has secured here. His decision will be heard with regret by all of eastern Delaware county. His present plan is that he will leave Margaretville on the first of the year and study until spring looking toward taking up a specialty. He may return here in April and remain for the summer and then leave permanently. ―  (18 Oct. 1929)

Third Accident Was At Home

Priscilla Maurer, 4-year-old daughter of Dr. and Mrs. G. B. Maurer, had the misfortune on Sunday afternoon to fall off a neighbor’s porch and break her right forearm. It was a busy afternoon at the doctor’s home. Before Dr. Maurer had finished treating Johnny Trickno of Arkville for deep lacerations, caused from hitting a rock while swimming, Ralph Eignor of Halcottville came. A horse had stepped on him breaking some ribs. Mrs. Maurer then remarked that there was usually a third one and turned to meet Priscilla with a broken arm. ―  (3 Aug. 1934)

Thumbtack Caused Baby’s Death

Parents of eight-month-old Thomas Zenbruske thought it was just a sore throat that made their baby irritable. But after Thomas died in a hospital at Albany, Wednesday, post-mortem examination disclosed a thumbtack lodged in the baby’s esophagus.

It will be recalled that Orvin, youngest son of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Eckert of Margaretville, swallowed a thumbtack about a year ago. He was rushed to the office of Dr. Maurer. who located the tack by X-ray deep in the throat with the point sticking toward the backbone. Dr. Maurer removed it with a snare through a rubber tube in a few minutes and the lad returned to his home in less than an hour, with no ill effects. ―  (8 Jan. 1937)

Deer Season Will Kill Many Boys In Gun Accidents

During the next few weeks, newspapers will chronicle several hundred hunting accidents. “Half of those injured will be under twenty-two years of age, the largest group being boys in their teens,” says Fay Welch of the New York State College of Forestry. “Almost a third of them will die.” Over and over again during the next few weeks the newspapers will record the stories of the men who ‘didn’t know it was loaded!’ or who ‘thought it was a deer!’ Men will be mistaken by careless companions for squirrels, bears and even ducks. Figuring frequently will be the men whose loaded guns discharged as they were getting in and out of automobiles, or climbing fences.

“Following a few simple, commonsense rules would eliminate a great majority of these unfortunate and unnecessary disasters,” says Mr. Welch. Hunters should thoroughly understand the mechanism of their own guns; beware of snow or dust in the muzzle. Loaded guns should never be carried in conveyances of any kind or brought into houses. Great care should be exercised in climbing over fences or other obstacles. Positively identify every object at which you shoot. Constantly keep in mind the location of your companions and other hunters. Assume that every gun is loaded and never point any gun at another. ―  <time datetime="">(October 33, 1937)</time>

Young Man Loses Ear In Auto Smash Severed Nose Replaced and Sewed Fast by Local Surgeon

Carson George, 17, of Arkville, lost his left ear in an automobile accident at the railroad crossing north of Grand Gorge late Saturday night and but for the skill of Surgeon Gordon B. Maurer would also have lost his nose.

He was riding in the front seat in the car of Elliott Johnson, 20, who was driving. In the back seat were Kenneth Holden, 17, and Cecil Davis, 24. When the car came down the long grade at the point named it was going at a fast clip. As it crossed the trade the machine seemed to jump into the air, according to the occupants, and struck a telephone pole some 10 feet above the ground.

George went through the windshield. His ear was completely severed, his nose so badly cut that it hung on the side of his face. The two in the back seat were cut and bruised but not severely injured. Dr. Malone of Grand Gorge was called. He ordered the injured young men removed to a hospital after he gave first aid. The ambulance was summoned and the boys brought here. Dr. Maurer found young George weak from the loss of blood and suffering considerably. He was able to sew the nose back on the face and reports yesterday were that the operation is a success and the member will not show much scar. ―  (14 Jan. 1938)

Eulogies

Catskill Mountain News

This eulogy by Clark A. Sanford was used as Dr. Maurer’s epitaph, and included in Stories on Stone: A Book of American Epitaphs (1941).

MOUNTAIN DEW

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Thirteen years ago there came here a city chap, trained in one of the great universities.

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The other members of his class went to big towns.

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He, with the best records of them all, wanted to begin the practice of medicine in a country village.

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He had compiled a list of prospective communities. He looked over several and chose us.

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An untried city college boy—with magic hands, a keen vision, and uncanny knowledge of both the human body and the soul which activates it.

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Soon after arrival he was called upon to care for a life given up as lost. He saved it.

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He began to save others. He worked day and night. When he did not have proper apparatus or appliances he built some. When the snows kept him from patients he constructed a snowmobile.

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Neither storm nor night nor mud nor snow kept him from the sick.

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He took people into his home. It became a veritable hospital.

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The fame of the boy spread throughout the section. Men and women from all walks of life asked for his attention.

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The community built a hospital that he and others might the better care for those who needed care, medication and operation.

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He continued. When a tired body all but gave up, he took a year out and returned to Yale for special work that he might come home and serve better.

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He had tired of city pastimes. The lure of the country had been breathed into his soul. Camp, rod and gun, open fires, life in great outdoors gave zest, relief, happiness.

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He loved our hills, our mode of life; he knew our ambitions, he smiled at our shortcomings.

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He gave freely. Much of the work he did was without charge. Few knew the extent of his help to those who needed help. He served as few had ever served here before.

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He was physician, parson, priest, confessor—we told him both our physical and mental troubles and he put us back on the road to reason and living.

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Thirteen years he served. It was a life work worth while.

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Today our hearts are numb at his loss, our senses befogged to know how to live without him. May we turn from the tragedy of the golden Indian summer morning that knew his death

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And in the bleak days of the approaching Thanksgiving season thank god for those thirteen years.

Yours truly, The Mountaineer.

―  (18 Nov. 1938)

Yale Journal of Biology and Medicine

Gordon Bostwick Maurer, M.D. 1899–1938 — Yale, 1923

It is of common report in this time of the rapid development of the science of medicine that teacher and student alike are no longer infused with that skill in the application of knowledge which is spoken of as the art of medicine nor are they sensitive to the traditional relationship of physician and patient. It is presumed that the scientific method, while it enlarges knowledge, limits the skill of its application and dulls the sensibilities of the practitioner. No longer, so the complaint goes, and every generation repeats it—no longer do the schools turn out those skilled and devoted physicians with whom we were familiar in our youth. There is always that longing for the physician of the past,—a nostalgia for the Doctor of the Old School.

The truth is, of course, that such are present in every generation but only recognized when time and the adversities of life have turned youth into age and made it venerable. Now and then this process is fortuitously interrupted, and we suddenly become aware that we have been unwitting witnesses of a tradition in the making, that we have been entertaining a prophet unawares.

Such was the case with Gordon Maurer of the class of 1923 of the Yale University School of Medicine, who at the age of 39 suddenly and accidently met his death last November. Those who knew him well and were familiar with his work during his preparation for the practice of medicine were early aware that here was a rare mind, seriously searching a scientific understanding of this field. He laid out a program of several years of post-graduate study, at the end of which he anticipated a life-time of work in surgery, preferably in a teaching institution. Toward this end he had completed a year in pathology and an interneship in surgery, when, much to the distress of himself and of his friends, he was forced by circumstances arising at the moment to abandon further study and start in the practice of medicine. At this stage, this meant for him general practice and, inasmuch as it was essential that he be financially independent from the first, in a relatively small community where there was an obvious need for a physician. After canvassing the possibilities in a characteristically thorough manner he entered upon practice in 1926 in Margaretville, New York. From the beginning he was extraordinarily successful,—so much so that his friends in New Haven saw little of him, save when occasionally exhausted by his work he would seek a few days’ respite in a visit to his school and hospital. Once, a few years ago, realizing that he was of necessity assuming responsibilities for which he had not adequate training, he spent the greater part of a year in New Haven seeking by study and observation to further perfect himself in surgery. It was characteristic of him that during this time he perfected an instrument for doing intestinal anastomoses which obviated the necessity of an assistant, not always at hand in his practice.

As he endeared himself to his patients by his skill and devotion, he also came to occupy a position of respect and influence in the community. Most tangible evidence of this was the raising of adequate funds by a “drive” for the building of a small hospital, of which he became superintendent and for which he for the most part assumed the responsibility of maintenance.

In this brief 13 years, Gordon Maurer became so valued and beloved a physician that his untimely death. fell with the weight of a major catastrophe upon the town and countryside which he had so faithfully served. This doctor’s last journey, like that of “Weelum MacLure of Drumtochty” was the occasion for such a spontaneous expression of appreciation and loss as comes only with the passing of “A Doctor of the Old School.”

The spirit of this is well and feelingly expressed in the following elegiac lines by the local columnist, who calls himself “The Mountaineer”:

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph]

―  (Jan. 1939)

New York State Medical Journal

A Physician Appreciated

Gordon Bostwick Maurer, M.D., a physician in Margaretville, N.Y., was instantly killed on November 12, 1938, by the accidental discharge of his shotgun while hunting partridges. Dr. Maurer was graduated from Yale in 1923, interned at the New Haven Hospital, and located in the little New York village in 1926. His death caused great distress to the people in his community.

The Catskill Mountain News, the town’s weekly paper, not only devoted more than half of its first page to Dr. Maurer, but there were seven different items in the issue in connection with the lamentable death of this brilliant young physician.

The finest testimonial of a medical man in years was published in a column “Mountain Dew” and signed “The Mountaineer”. In this day of proposed state medicine, its proponents should read this encomium and ponder well.

The following is quoted verbatim from the News:

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph]

―  (Apr. 1939)

Encyclopedia of American Biography

Physician, Surgeon—In these modern times it is often deplored that no longer do we have the beloved physician of the old school, the versatile and devoted family doctor familiar to our youth. The truth probably is in a nostalgic reverence for tradition one fails to recognize the prophet within our gates, especially when he is a man of science, of unusual breadth of schooling, no longer handicapped by limitations of transportation, communication, of the instruments of his profession or lack of knowledge of his art.

Those who love Margaretville, New York, and its environs, mourn the passing of Gordon Bostwick Maurer, M. D., general practitioner. A high honor graduate from the Yale University School of Medicine, highly trained in medicine and surgery, a student of whom a great deal was expected by his instructors and colleagues, he came to the town because it was in obvious need of a physician. Motivated by a true scientific thirst for a wider knowledge of the advances being made in medicine and surgery, he had laid out a program covering years of postgraduate work, wherein research and its applications to human needs would be combined. There is evidence that he hoped to make a career of surgery, preferably in a teaching institution. He was already well on this road when circumstances made it necessary to abandon his course and engage in a general practice. Once having made the decision he wasted no time or regrets on the might have been but from the beginning made an extraordinary success of his work as a medical man and surgeon. He also was more than a member of a great profession—he was a constructive, progressive citizen who gave himself freely to causes and organizations undertaken for the best interests of his adopted community. He was more than an exemplary citizen, for he was the friend of all who needed his skill, or his aid in any dilemma or crisis.

The Maurers are of German origin. In 18??, Jacob G. Maurer came to America from Alsace-Lorraine, bringing his son William with him and settling in Rochester, New York. This William Maurer married Katherine Bostwick, a descendant of Arthur Bostwick, who was born in December 1603, in Taporley, Chester County, England, and who located at Stratford, Connecticut, in 1635.

Dr. Gordon Bostwick Maurer was born May 30, 1899, at Rochester, New York, son of William Katherine (Bostwick) Maurer. When the boy was five years of age the Maurers moved to New Haven, Connecticut, where he acquired his elementary and college preparatory education in the city grammar and high schools. Entering Yale University with the intention of becoming a physician, he proved himself an exceptional student, completing seven years required work in six, and winning high honors while so doing. During this same period he was a member of Company F, Pre-Medical Corps, Yale Student Auxiliary Training Corps, from October 3 to December 14, 1918. In the three summers from 1921 to 1923 he interned in the Rochester State Hospital: June 29 to October, 1921; June 20 to October, 1922; July l to September, 1923. Later, he also did postgraduate work at the University of Buffalo. In 1923 he was graduated from the Yale University School of Medicine, a Doctor of Medicine, and remained with his alma mater for a year as assistant pathologist. There followed an internship in surgery, at the New Haven Hospital, when much to the of the distress of the faculty of the school and his many friends, circumstances rendered it necessary that he become immediately financially independent.

In 1925, Dr. Maurer established himself in a general practice at Margaretville, New York. Unlike most medical men he succeeded from the start, his worth being quickly recognized. He never, however, thought too highly of himself or his equipment for his career, remaining the student always. A number of years later he returned to New Haven for the greater part of a year to improve himself in surgery. It was characteristic of him, wrote a contemporary, that during this time he perfected an instrument for doing intestinal anastomoses which obviated the necessity of an assistant, not always at hand in his practice.

Whatever one may think of the form, the clearest picture of his career in Margaretville was drawn by a fellow-townsman who identified himself only as The Mountaineer, who wrote:

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph, first half]

For further clarity it should be pointed out that Dr. Maurer was not only the leader in raising funds for a hospital, of which he became superintendent, but for the most part assumed the responsibility for its maintenance. In the non-professional activities of Margaretville, he was a popular figure in most of its clubs and in movements making for community betterment. His religious affiliations were with the Presbyterian Church, but his humanitarian work and outlook was not limited by any bounds of condition, of any race or creed. Dr. Maurer was a member of the American Legion, and of the Rod and Gun Club. He shot moose in Canada; he knew intimately every hunting area near Margaretville, and maintained a summer camp on the mountain overlooking the village.

At Lake Delaware, New York, on January 17, 1929, Dr. Gordon Bostwick Maurer married Florence Gale Knight, daughter of Thomas Russell and Jessie Brown (Dykes) Knight. John Knight, Mrs. Maurer’s paternal immigrant ancestor, came from England in 1725 and settled in Portland, Maine. Her mother, born in Strathaven, County of Lanark, Scotland, the daughter of John Brown Dykes, came to America in 1889. Dr. and Mrs. Maurer became the parents of a daughter, Priscilla, born December 10, 1929.

It was while in pursuit of his favorite recreation, hunting, that Dr. Maurer lost his life on November 12, 1938. In the brief thirteen years of his career in Margaretville, he had become so valued and beloved a physician that his untimely passing fell with the weight of a major catastrophe upon the town and countryside which he had served so faithfully. The doctor’s last journey, like that of Weelum MacLure of Drumtochty, was the occasion of such a spontaneous expression of appreciation and loss as comes only from the passing of one of the great leaders of a community, a doctor of the old school although he was but thirty-nine years of age. The spirit of this was feelingly expressed in the lines of the already quoted, The Mountaineer, whose concluding words were:

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph, second half]

―  (1941)

Stories on Stone

This noteworthy tribute on the monument in Margaretville, New York, to Dr. Gordon Bostwick Maurer, accidentally shot while hunting in 1938, aged 39, was originally an editorial in the Catskill Mountain News:

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph]

―  (1954)

A Catskill Catalog

Usually, I do my research before I write. Usually. A couple of weeks ago, I took a shortcut. Writing about the founder of the hospital in Margaretville, Dr. Gordon Maurer, I mentioned that his epitaph appeared in a book of American epitaphs. Dr. Maurer was killed exactly 70 years ago in a November 1938 hunting accident. He is buried in the old Margaretville Cemetery.

It’s not that I made anything up. It’s just that, in the midst of a busy week, I didn’t go to the cemetery to look for the headstone to read the epitaph myself. Instead, I took the information about it from Ethel Bussy’s classic 1960 book History and Stories of Margaretville and Surrounding Areas, lent to me a couple of months ago by my accountant (in the midst of a national financial crisis, it seems reassuring to use the phrase my accountant.)

The other day, I corrected my mistake. I spent an hour or so wandering through the terraced old cemetery looking for Dr. Maurer’s headstone. It is a wonderful cemetery, an old-fashioned park-like rural resting place that contains the names of many who figure prominently in the history of this part of the Catskills. A tall granite obelisk marks the grave of Orson Allaben, Margaretville’s founder, and that of his wife, Thankful Dimmick, daughter of Noah Dimmick, Arkville’s first citizen. Ray Marks, elected Delaware County Treasurer in 1932, rests there. I found several graves of people I knew.

The cemetery is on a sidehill, and reaching the top requires a bit of a climb, but at the very top of the hill, on the uppermost terrace, I found what I was looking for. It was worth the effort! Gordon Bostwick Maurer, 1899-1938, is memorialized by a massive double-wide granite slab on which is inscribed a profound and moving poem of remembrance and respect, written by Dr. Maurer’s friend, Clark Sanford, and published originally in the Catskill Mountain News in Sanford’s column, The Mountaineer.

Standing next to the headstone, one looks directly across the East Branch valley at the hill on the other side, looking directly at the Margaretville Hospital, founded by Dr. Maurer and dedicated as a memorial to him. What is uncanny, and a bit magical, is that that hospital was not built there until 30 years after Dr. Maurer’s death. His interment in a spot that directly overlooks the hospital he founded is, at least, a delightful coincidence. Perhaps, it is more.

And the epitaph! If you can, take the hike to the top of the cemetery hill and see it for yourself. It tells the story of a young man who graduated first in his class as an undergraduate engineer, and then, at Yale Medical School, number one in his class once again. More importantly, it tells the story of the connection made by an individual and a community.

Let the Mountaineer give us his remembrance. The headstone reads as follows.

[Catskill Mountain News epitaph]

―  (12 Nov. 2008)