[Congressional Record Volume 146, Number 96 (Friday, July 21, 2000)]
[Senate]
[Pages S7445-S7447]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                        TRIBUTE TO DAVID MAHONEY

 Mr. MOYNIHAN. Mr. President, on the first of May of this year 
our nation lost a great friend. David Mahoney's meteoric rise in the 
world of advertising and business is well-chronicled. But less known 
are the extraordinary contributions he made to the advancement of 
science--in particular, the vast field of research associated with the 
human brain.
  After an astonishingly successful career at conglomerates such as 
Colgate-Palmolive and Norton Simon, David Mahoney spent the last ten 
years of his life devoted to the work of the Dana Alliance for Brain 
Initiatives. This group has brought together the world's foremost 
neuroscientists who work tirelessly to discover the scientific 
breakthroughs that will one day provide us with the capability to 
prevent

[[Page S7446]]

and effectively treat such disorders as schizophrenia, Parkinson's 
disease, depression and Alzheimer's disease.
  David Mahoney was an individual of remarkable accomplishment and 
dedication. Together with his family and enormous circle of friends, we 
shall miss him greatly. We are consoled in part to know that the work 
he did lives on.
  The attached notice of David Mahoney's death appeared in the New York 
Times on Tuesday, May 2, 2000. Of particular interest is the moving 
tribute written by Dr. Max Cowan as published in the Dana Alliance 
newsletter. I ask that both articles be printed in the Congressional 
Record.
  The articles follow:

            [From Dana Alliance Member News, Apr./May 2000]

                           Remembering David

                             (By Max Cowan)

       I first met David Mahoney at a week-end retreat for 
     selected CEOs that Jim Watson had organized at the Banbury 
     Conference Center at Cold Spring Harbor. Jim, with 
     characteristic imagination, thought it would be interesting 
     to expose business leaders to recent advances in biology and 
     bio-medical research, and on this occasion focused the 
     retreat on neuroscience. I was one of five or six 
     neuroscientists who were invited to participate and as it 
     happened I was asked to give the first talk on the structure 
     of the brain. It occurred to me that most of the participants 
     had probably never seen a real brain, so I brought a 
     formalin-fixed human brain with me and, on the Friday 
     evening, proceeded to demonstrate and dissect it. Unlike most 
     of my students, who seemed rather blase about seeing and even 
     handling the brain, this group of distinguished businessmen 
     was completely fascinated to learn about and, at one point, 
     to actually touch the brain. As one of them later remarked, 
     ``this was one of the most moving experiences I have had.''
       I had quite forgotten about this event until one morning, 
     just over ten years ago, I received a phone call from out of 
     the blue by someone who introduced himself with the words: 
     ``Dr. Max, you probably don't remember me. I'm David Mahoney 
     and I want you to know that you changed my life.'' I was so 
     taken aback that the only thing I could say was, `` I trust 
     the change was for the better''! ``Do you recall speaking at 
     a retreat at Cold Spring Harbor almost two years ago''? David 
     asked. ``I was one of the participants and I can still 
     remember vividly your dissecting a brain for us. That weekend 
     had a profound effect on me. I went home afterwards and said 
     to my wife, `Hille, I think I should give up working and 
     spend the rest of my time trying to do something to promote 
     research on the brain and its disorders,' And that's what 
     I've been doing over the past several months, and now I need 
     your help.''
       It was not until Jim Watson organized yet another meeting 
     at Cold Spring Harbor, this time to discuss ``Funding the 
     Decade of the Brain'' that I had a chance to speak to David 
     directly. At this meeting, which included several leading 
     basic and clinical neuroscientists and representatives of a 
     number of funding agencies--both federal and private--the 
     topic of concern was: Why had the presidential proclamation 
     that the 90s were to be the ``Decade of the Brain'' not led 
     to additional support for brain science?
       Like most such meetings, the first session, on Friday 
     afternoon, was fairly unproductive. There was a good deal of 
     breast-beating and anecdotes about worthwhile research 
     projects that had gone unfunded, but no real suggestions as 
     to what might be done. At dinner I found myself seated next 
     to David. With that insight and forthrightness that I came to 
     admire so much, David came straight to the point. ``Max,'' he 
     said, ``these people seem more concerned about the support of 
     their own work than for the suffering of people with 
     neurological and psychiatric illnesses. I want you to begin 
     this evening's session by proposing something concrete, 
     something that can be done over the next nine years. And if 
     you guys who are in the business can come up with something 
     that seems worthwhile, it's possible that the Dana Foundation 
     may be able to help to get it off the ground.'' Out of this 
     conversation and the discussions that followed that evening 
     and the next morning was the Dana Alliance for Brain 
     Initiatives (DABI) born. In fact, before the Saturday morning 
     session ended, an agenda that had been outlined, the scope of 
     the organization sketched out, an executive committee 
     selected, and the timetable for several specific activities 
     set.
       None of us who were present at the meeting could have 
     guessed that within a year DABI would have established itself 
     as the single most important new effort to promote awareness 
     of the magnitude of the problems presented by such disorders 
     as Alzheimer's disease, stroke, Parkinson's disease, 
     depression, schizophrenia, blindness, serious hearing loss, 
     and chronic pain. But then none of us had seen David 
     in action, nor had we been closely associated with someone 
     whose vision and imagination were so closely matched by 
     his energy and determination.
       Drawing on his experience of a lifetime in business, his 
     wide range of contacts with leaders in so many fields--
     politics, the media, sports, and academia--David seemed 
     tireless in his efforts to get across the message that brain 
     disorders are among the most serious we have to address. In 
     meeting after meeting, in schools, community centers, in TV 
     studios and the halls of Congress, he kept reminding his 
     audience, whether large or small, that sooner or later nearly 
     all of us will be impacted, either directly or indirectly, by 
     some disorder of the brain. How often he stressed the 
     seriousness of these illnesses, not only for the patients 
     themselves, but also for their families and communities; what 
     an enormous burden they imposed in terms of human suffering, 
     of lost employment, of misunderstanding and even shame and 
     embarrassment. And, he repeatedly pointed out, with the aging 
     of our population these disorders will soon strain to the 
     breaking point our health care system and social services. 
     Only David's family and closest associates were conscious of 
     how he criss-crossed the country with this message; and no 
     one was surprised when the opportunity presented itself, that 
     he quickly extended his efforts across the Atlantic to meet 
     the European DABI.
       But for many of us, David will always be remembered not 
     just for his energy, enthusiasm, and drive, but for his quite 
     extraordinary capacity for friendship and his ability to 
     encourage others to rise above themselves.
       Some weeks ago I had occasion to speak at a memorial 
     service for a colleague, Dr. Daniel Nathans, and was moved to 
     quote some lines from the dedication of Tennyson's great 
     poem, ``Idylls of the King.'' These same lines have been 
     running through my mind since hearing of David's death, and 
     they bear repeating here:

     The shadow of his loss drew eclipse,
     Darkening the world, We have lost him; he is gone.
     We know him now; all narrow jealousies
     Are silent, and we see him as he moved,
     How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,
     With what sublime repression of himself
     And in what limits, and how tenderly
     Not swaying to this faction, or to that;
     Not making his high place the lawless perch
     Of wing'd ambitions, nor vantage-ground
     For pleasure; but through all tract of years
     Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,
     Before a thousand peering littlenesses.
                                  ____


                 [From the New York Times, May 2, 2000]

David Mahoney, a Business Executive and Neuroscience Advocate, Dies at 
                                   76

                          (By Eric Nagourney)

       David Mahoney, a business leader who left behind the world 
     of Good Humor, Canada Dry and Avis and threw himself behind a 
     decidedly less conventional marketing campaign, promoting 
     research into the brain, died yesterday at his home in Palm 
     Beach, Fla. He was 76.
       The cause was heart disease, friends said.
       Mr. Mahoney, who believed that the study of the brain and 
     its diseases had been shortchanged for far too long, was 
     sometimes described as the foremost lay advocate of 
     neuroscience. As chief executive of the Charles A. Dana 
     Foundation, a medical philanthropic organization based in 
     Manhattan, he prodded brain researchers to join forces, shed 
     their traditional caution and reclusivity and engage the 
     public imagination.
       To achieve his goals, he brought to bear the power of 
     philanthropy, personal persuasion and the connections he had 
     made at the top of the corporate world.
       Using his skills as a marketing executive, he worked 
     closely with some of the world's top neuroscientists to teach 
     them how to sell government officials holding the purse 
     strings, as well as the average voter, on the value of their 
     research. He pressed them to make specific public commitments 
     to find treatments for diseases like Alzheimer's, Parkinson's 
     and depression, rather than conduct just ``pure'' research.
       ``People don't buy science solely,'' Mr. Mahoney said this 
     year. ``They buy the results of, and the hope of, science.''
       In 1992, aided by Dr. James D. Watson, who won the Nobel 
     Prize as a co-discoverer of the structure of DNA, Mr. Mahoney 
     founded the Dana Alliance for Brain Initiatives, a foundation 
     organization of about 190 neuroscientists, including Dr. 
     Watson and six other Nobel laureates, that works to educate 
     the public about their field.
       That same year, after taking over the 50-year-old Dana 
     Foundation as chief executive, Mr. Mahoney began shifting it 
     away from its traditional mission of supporting broader 
     health and educational programs, and focused its grants 
     almost exclusively on neuroscience. Since then, the 
     foundation has given some $34 million to scientists working 
     on brain research at more than 45 institutions.
       Mr. Mahoney also dipped into his own fortune, giving 
     millions of dollars to endow programs in neuroscience at 
     Harvard and the University of Pennsylvania. Later this month, 
     the Albert and Mary Lasker Foundation, which traditionally 
     honors the most accomplished researchers, was to give him a 
     newly created award for philanthropy.
       ``He put his money where his mouth was,'' said Dr. Kay 
     Redfield Jamison, a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins 
     University.
       Mr. Mahoney's journey from businessman to devotee of one of 
     the most esoteric fields of health was as unusual as it was 
     unexpected.
       David Joseph Mahoney Jr. was born in the Bronx on May 17, 
     1923, the son of David J. Mahoney, a construction worker, and 
     the former Loretta Cahill.
       After serving as an infantry captain in the Pacific during 
     World War II, he enrolled at

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     the University of Pennsylvania's Wharton School. He studied 
     at night, and during the day he worked 90 miles away in the 
     mail room of a Manhattan advertising agency. Ruthrauff & 
     Ryan. By the time he was 25, he had become a vice president 
     of the agency--by some accounts, the youngest vice president 
     on Madison Avenue at the time.
       Then in 1951, in a move in keeping with the restlessness 
     that characterized his business career, he left Ruthrauff & 
     Ryan to form his own agency. Four years later, when his 
     business was worth $2 million, he moved on again, selling it 
     to run Good Humor, the ice-cream company that his small 
     agency had managed to snare as a client.
       Five years later, when Good Humor was sold, Mr. Mahoney 
     became executive vice president of Colgate-Palmolive, then 
     president of Canada Dry, and then, in 1969, president and 
     chief operating officer of Norton Simon, formed from Canada 
     Dry, Hunt Food and McCall's. Under Mr. Mahoney, Norton Simon 
     grew into a $3 billion conglomerate that included Avis Rent A 
     Car, Halston, Max Factor and the United Can Company.
       Despite his charm, associates said, he had a short temper 
     and an impatient manner that often sent subordinates packing. 
     ``I burn people out,'' he once said in an interview. ``I'm 
     intense, and I think that intensity is sometimes taken for 
     anger.''
       The public knew him as one of the first chief executives to 
     go in front of the camera to promote his product, in this 
     case, in the early 1980's for Avis rental cars, which Norton 
     Simon had acquired under his tenure.
       By all accounts, including his own, Mr. Mahoney was living 
     on top of the world. He was one of the nation's top-paid 
     executives, receiving $1.85 million in compensation in 1982--
     a fact that did not always endear him to some Norton Simon 
     shareholders, who filed lawsuits charging excessive 
     compensation, given that his company's performance did not 
     always keep pace with his raises.
       Tall and trim, he moved among society's elite and was 
     friends with Henry A. Kissinger, Vernon E. Jordan Jr. and 
     Barbara Walters. He was reported to have advised Presidents 
     Richard M. Nixon, Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan, and to have 
     met with Mr. Carter at Camp David.
       But his fortunes changes late in 1983. True to form, the 
     restless Mr. Mahoney was seeking change, putting into motion 
     a plan to take Norton Simon private. But this time, he 
     stumbled: a rival suitor, the Esmark Corporation, bettered 
     his offer and walked away with his company.
       Mr. Mahoney was left a lot richer--as much as $40 million 
     or so, by some accounts--but, for the first time in his life, 
     he was out of a job and at loose ends. He described the 
     period as a low point.
       ``You stop being on the `A' list,'' he said some years 
     later, ``Your calls don't get returned. It's not just less 
     fawning; people could care less about you in some cases. The 
     king is dead. Long live the king.''
       It took some years for Mr. Mahoney to regain his focus. 
     Gradually, he turned his attention to public health, in which 
     he had already shown some interest. In the 1970's, he had 
     been chairman of the board of Phoenix House, the residential 
     drug-treatment program. By 1977, while still at Norton, he 
     became chairman of the Dana Foundation, a largely advisory 
     position.
       Mr. Mahoney increasingly devoted his time to the 
     foundation. In 1992, he also became its chief executive, and 
     soon began shifting the organization's focus to the brain. In 
     part, the reason came from his own experience. In an 
     acceptance speech that he had prepared for the Lasker Award, 
     he wrote of having seen firsthand the effects of stress and 
     the mental health needs of people in the business world.
       But associates recalled, and Mr. Mahoney seemed to say as 
     much in his speech, that he appeared to have arrived at the 
     brain much the way a marketing executive would think up a new 
     product. ``Some of the great minds in the world told me that 
     this generation's greatest action would be in brain science--
     if only the public would invest the needed resources,'' he 
     wrote.
       In 1992, Mr. Mahoney and Dr. Watson gathered a group of 
     neuroscientists at the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory on Long 
     Island. There, encouraged by Mr. Mahoney, the scientists 
     agreed on 10 research objectives that might be reached by the 
     end of the decade, among them finding the generic basis for 
     manic-depression and identifying chemicals that can block the 
     action of cocaine and other addictive substances.
       ``We've gotten somewhere on about four of them--but that's 
     life,'' Dr. Watson said recently.
       In recent years, Mr. Mahoney became convinced that a true 
     understanding of the brain-body connection might also lead to 
     cures for diseases in other parts of the body, like cancer 
     and heart disease.
       He believed that it would soon be commonplace for people to 
     live to 100. For the quality of life to be high at that age, 
     he believed, people would have to learn to take better care 
     of their brains.
       In 1998, along with Dr. Richard Restak, a 
     neuropsychiatrist, Mr. Mahoney wrote ``The Longevity 
     Strategy: How to Live to 100: Using the Brain-Body 
     Connection'' (John Wiley & Sons).
       Mr. Mahoney's first wife, Barbara Ann Moore, died in 1975. 
     He is survived by his wife, the former Hildegarde Merrill, 
     with whom he also had a home in Lausanne, Switzerland; a son, 
     David, of Royal Palm Beach, Fla.; two stepsons, Arthur 
     Merrill of Muttontown, N.Y., and Robert Merrill of Locust 
     Valley, N.Y., and a brother, Robert, of Bridgehampton, N.Y.
       Associates said Mr. Mahoney's temperament in his second 
     career was not all that different from what it had been in 
     his first. It was not uncommon, said Edward Rover, vice 
     chairman of the Dana Foundation's board of trustees, for his 
     phone to ring late at night, and for Mr. Mahoney to sail into 
     a pointed critique of their latest endeavors.
       One researcher spoke of his ``kind of charge-up-San-Juan-
     Hill style.'' Dr. Jamison, of Johns Hopkins, called him 
     ``impatient in the best possible sense of the word.''
       As in his first career, Mr. Mahoney never lost the good 
     salesman's unwavering belief in his product. ``If you can't 
     sell the brain,'' he told friends, ``then you've got a real 
     problem.''

                          ____________________