Albert B. Glickman ’59

Albert B. Glickman ’59 died April 21, 2011.
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Ab Glickman ’59

 I am saddened to report that my father, A.B. (Ab) Glickman, lost a nearly year-long struggle with lymphoma on April 21, 2011. Ab was born, raised, lived and died in Shaker Heights, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. His only years away from his hometown were spent at Amherst followed by Yale Law School. His years at Amherst were among the happiest of a life filled to brimming with happiness.

 I followed my Dad to Amherst 28 years later.  He did not coerce me; that was not his way. But he embodied such a passion for learning, a curiosity for life, a sense of fun and adventure, and I knew he had developed these at Amherst.

 Although he developed an academic appreciation for literature, history and politics, as one of his classmates recently told me, school came so easily to him that he had more time to goof off than anyone else and hence became a focal point of his class's social life. He entered Amherst with several friends from his high school but quickly broadened his social circle; he loyally nurtured these friendships throughout the rest of his life. He was a member of Psi U, but, judging by the nice notes our family has recently received, he made time for friends from all around the campus who were quiet, shy or miscast.

 He majored in English and developed a beautiful and witty writing style that transferred seamlessly to email in the last 10 years.  His frequent funny messages to me and his beloved granddaughters flavored the weeks between his quarterly visits to California to visit us.

 He graduated from Amherst, registered the highest LSAT scores in the nation, attended Yale Law School and then moved back to Cleveland and spent his entire career as an attorney at Ulmer & Berne. He retired in 2003 and was as an adjunct lecturer at Case Western Reserve Law School, teaching law to international students. He retired fully in 2006.

 My father remained a loyal and involved Amherst alum. He served on the nominating committee for trustees, held numerous other volunteer positions, regularly attended reunions (in fact, he missed the birth of his first grandson because he was at his 50th reunion), and was a generous financial supporter of Amherst. If you visit the Japanese rock garden at Amherst, you will benefit from its impeccable upkeep thanks to my Dad's endowment of expert gardening services. One of my Dad's biggest regrets in his final months is that he was not healthy enough to make a long-awaited visit to Japan. I was there last year and loaded up on purple gear for him at the Doshisha University equivalent of Hastings' school store.

 While consistently upbeat through a series of orthopedic injuries attributable to a lifetime of  hemophilia, my Dad struggled greatly throughout the past year to fight the cancer that suddenly appeared just before his 72nd birthday.  He mightily, stubbornly battled the cancer; he loved his life so much.  Bruce Miller provided guidance based on his wife's recent bout with lymphoma, and many friends came to visit him in his final days. The day before he died - the last time he sat in a chair instead of his hospice bed - he visited with Andy Sinauer and Herb Goulder. Andy moved his visit up by 48 hours and traveled from near Amherst to be able to see my Dad. Bruce Miller and Stu Bowie visited him one week earlier and took him out to dinner. Herb was at the hospice as my Dad passed away; they became friends 8 years before Amherst, through 4 years of Amherst, and 52 years since.

Since he passed away, I keep hearing from friends who consistently cite what a kind, witty, warm, smart, irreverent person he was. All will miss him dearly, but none more than his wife of 50 years, Joyce; his two daughters, Andi and Sam; his sons-in-law Roy and Jim and daughter-in-law Susie; his grandchildren, Emma, Molly Violet and Leo, his sister Amy, and, me, his son, Matt.

 —Matt Glickman ’87



Ab was revered and loved by many of us. He came to Amherst with an irrepressible spirit, a wry and twinkling sense of humor, a keen intellect and a knack for winning friends and keeping them. He never changed.

            Hanna and I spent many a pleasurable evening with Ab and his lovely wife, Joyce, over the years as friends and neighbors in Cleveland. Even after we moved to Boston, our close friendship continued. Then disaster struck: Ab was blindsided by a vicious cancer that finally overwhelmed him  on April 21, 2011. I was fortunate to spend time with him the week before he died. Although he was clearly in trouble, the same Ab Glickman that I had met 56 years ago early in our freshman year shone through. We shared stories, we laughed, we talked about books (the imposing recent biography of Mark Twain lay on the table between us, a monumental read that Ab had decided to tackle), and we talked about Amherst and mutual friends and classmates. All of you were there that morning, believe me.

            Ab struggled throughout his adult life with hemophilia. He lived in the shadow of a threatening condition and then a fatal disease without for a second relinquishing his zest for life, his sense of humor, his wise insights, his love of family and friends. He cherished Amherst and was generous beyond words in his steadfast support. I shall never forget him, for Ab Glickman embodied the essence of what is good and great in all of us. I am deeply honored to have been his friend.


—Jim Bartlett ’59