When did you meet Mickey?
1982
Where did you meet him?
At Emory Psychiatry
Memory of Mickey
I met Mickey around 1982, when I was a resident in Psychiatry at Emory. I had less contact with him than some of the other residents, because I was training in Child Psychiatry, so my memories of Mickey in the years from 1982-1986 are a little hazy, but he was always the guru in the background.
In 1986, as I was trying to figure out where my career should go, Gail approached me to ask if I would like to go into practice with her and Mickey and Andy Hurayt. I could not believe I was being given such an incredible opportunity, and I jumped at the chance. We built an office building at Lenox Pointe, with invaluable architectural help from Sharon, and moved in during October of that year. For 18 years, until Mickey retired in 2004, Gail, Mickey, and I (Andy soon headed off to the coast) were partners in a very successful private practice. The fact that it was very successful can be attributed in large part to Mickey, who had trained, it seemed, about half of the mental health practitioners in Atlanta. Thanks to him, we had an amazing referral base.
More than specific memories (although there are a few of those as well), I have a general sense of Mickey as the “eminence grise” of our practice. He was always there, usually in his office, seeing patients, but reliably emerging at lunchtime to sit in our group room to chat, tell stories, do crossword puzzles (in ink), play computer games, rescue our computers from various offspring (who couldn’t keep their hands off them) and to provide invaluable informal supervision. His advice was always helpful, and he was gratifyingly appreciative of my occasional supervision of him in return. Occasionally, he would be found lying on the floor of the group room because of severe back pain but would always manage to get up and go back to work.
In the early years, before he gave up alcohol, we would have TGIF parties weekly at the office. One specific memory is on one of those TGIF nights my husband, Joe, was planning to join us but called to say he had slipped on our outdoor stairs and had a deep gash in his knee. Mickey, who had not forgotten his earlier life as a “real” doctor, mobilized all of us to move the party to our house, where Mickey supervised Gail’s husband as he sutured Joe’s knee at the kitchen table.
Another specific memory is around Mickey’s retirement. His much-loved dog had died shortly before that, and Gail and I decided to give him a dog as a retirement gift. We found one we really liked at the ASPCA and asked Sharon to approve it. Sharon thought our choice was too active and immediately picked Annie, who was calm, affectionate, and the right size for her to walk. I’ll never forget how surprised and happy Mickey was when we arrived in Jasper with Annie.
The last time I saw Mickey – before he went in to the hospital -was at Gail’s house shortly after Christmas. He looked ill, and in fact was, but he didn’t let that stop him from sitting at the table, entertaining a group of us with stories about his life, including many memories of his time in England.
I loved Mickey and always will, and I can’t believe he is not just up the road in Jasper, being wise and funny and impressively productive in his retirement. I will sorely miss him.