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I have to admit, when I arrived at the Maisie “Mary Ann” Paustian Amphitheater, grabbed a program and saw 10 speakers listed, my thoughts turned to all the work that waited for me back at the office.
But then I remembered that the work would all be there on Monday and I decided to stay at the ceremony.
Good decision. The service lasted about 75 minutes and I was spellbound.
I started at UNMC in 1987. Carl came four years later. If you do the math, we worked together for the past 18 years.
In those 18 years, I bet Carl and I connected on no more than 20 occasions. Usually, just a quick “hello” at some sort of medical center gathering.
My biggest interaction with Carl came when he discovered a new drug for glaucoma in 1996. We did our best to make it a big media event, even though Carl was uncomfortable as the center of attention.
As I recall, his reaction was something like – “Why do we have to do a news conference? Can’t you just send out a news release?”
A few years later he moved up to department chairman. It didn’t make much difference. Carl always shunned the limelight.
He might occasionally drop me an e-mail about somebody in the department who had done something. But, he never blew his own horn.
Last year, we celebrated the opening of the Weigel-Williamson Center for Visual Rehabilitation with another media event. It was an exciting day for the entire state. The first low vision house in Nebraska and one of the only ones in the country.
Carl was one of the speakers, but again he left the spotlight to others. I hardly recognized him. Someone mentioned that he was fighting a heart issue.
About a month later, UNMC hosted an international symposium on glaucoma. I’d heard about the symposium from someone in ophthalmology, but to be honest with you, we hold a lot of symposia at UNMC. We typically don’t devote too much attention to them in public relations.
Two days before the symposium, someone from ophthalmology called me and wondered if we would do something on it. I had just returned after a week off for my mother’s funeral.
PR is very much a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” profession. I thought about Carl. He never asked for anything. The least I could do is throw together a story on his conference.
I sent it over to Carl for his review. He made a few edits and sent me an e-mail. The last paragraph read: “Thanks for the outstanding job on such short notice … my deepest condolences about your mother.”
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That’s when I really got to know Carl Camras.
From writing his story for UNMC Today and attending his memorial service, I realized that Carl was one-of-a-kind. A truly remarkable person who was seemingly loved by all.
Certain terms invariably came up when people talked about Carl – genius, humble, generous, leader, kindhearted, compassionate, always thinking of others, ethical, outstanding physician, first to arrive at work and last to leave.
His memorial service was enthralling as speaker after speaker shared their thoughts about this truly amazing person. The service was capped by a slide show of images of Carl that left my eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t speak.
I wasn’t alone – the capacity crowd in the amphitheater was largely silent when the slide show ended. The only sound was that of family members crying.
Carl touched the lives of many on this campus and beyond. And while I regret that I didn’t spend more time with him, this past week has left me truly honored that I knew this wonderful man.
Godspeed Carl, you will be missed.