The Chase for Beauty

In chronicling Dr. Hurwitz’s life, what I think makes The Chase for Beauty so compelling is the doctor’s belief that the world has beauty even when his life was surrounded by only ugliness. His personal and professional chase for beauty is courageous.

Readers won’t find something like: 5 Steps to Happiness.
Dr. Hurwitz has said over and over that he hasn’t overcome the murder of his teenage daughter Karen and that he never will. What readers will find is this man’s struggles with faith, with fate, with good versus evil, and whether those struggles will sap him of his strength to get out of bed the day after his daughter’s murder and the day after that and the day after that …

Without love there can be no beauty.
Now that The Chase for Beauty is written, its message is open to interpretation. Although I’m the author, that doesn’t mean my opinion contains some universal truth, just as an artists and songwriters don’t have the “correct” elucidation of their works. With that noted, for me the message of The Chase for Beauty is the power of love. While the book isn’t a love story per se, it’s ultimately a story of love. Without love there can be no beauty. Dr. Hurwitz never lost the love in his heart for himself, his wife, his family, his career, and his community.

That love is what enabled him to continue his lifelong chase for beauty.

Robert Mendelson, Author
The Chase for Beauty

As an author, I am very selective about moving forward with book proposals. Writing a book for me isn’t a 9-to-5 job. It’s more like watching a motion picture that lasts for at least a year, sometimes two or three. The story becomes a part of my life. To make that kind of commitment it had better be a good story. I quickly determined the life of Dr. Hurwitz was such a story because of how he dealt with unimaginable adversity in his life.

Adversity is a part of everyone’s lives. Just pick up the morning paper and there will almost always be some horrific tragedy detailed on the front page. For me, though, I am always drawn to the aftermath of tragedy. How do the people go on with their lives? Does what happened to them destroy their lives or do they find a way to cope? True stories of perseverance inspire—whether it’s a baseball player hitting a walk-off homerun after his error allowed the other team to tie the score, or Dr. Hurwitz raising two children and reaching international prominence as a plastic surgeon despite the murder of his daughter and potentially career-ending medical malpractice lawsuit.

These are the kinds of heroic stories that can never be told too much.

Robert Mendelson, Author
The Chase for Beauty

5 Things I Find Beautiful

1. I find beauty in Dr. Hurwitz, through his Total Body Lift procedure, giving his patients a chance to live a normal life, as this patient testimonial confirms:

Formerly obese, I faced the common problem of massive extra sheets of hanging skin after losing the weight—was there a way to fix this? His innovative Total Body Lift, done all at once, reassures us this is possible; it can help us regain self-confidence and our place in the world…. I just wish I had found Dr. Hurwitz’s solution many years ago. As Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “A moment’s insight is sometimes worth a life’s experience.” (page 3)

2. I find beauty in Dr. Hurwitz’s undying love for his wife personified during the closing sentence of a letter he wrote to her during their courtship:

“Please God, keep Linda, keep me, keep us. Amen.” (page 21)

3. I find beauty in what turned out to be the last moment Dr. Hurwitz would spend with his daughter, Karen:

“Karen plopped down next to me in a big recliner chair.” The recliner wasn’t meant for two people, but Dennis didn’t mind. “Somehow, there was enough room. It felt just right. She gave me a big hug; nothing special, but it was nice. We said goodnight and went to sleep.” (page 86)

4. I find beauty in Karen Hurwitz’s farewell to her mother, Linda Hurwitz. Linda, like her husband, never had a chance to say goodbye to their daughter. But after the murder, Linda had a visitor in her bedroom.

“I felt her come to me and say goodbye. It was like a dream, but she really was there, like a presence, and she kissed me and said, ‘I’m dead, but don’t worry, I’m okay.’” (page 113)

5. I find beauty in the courage of an expert witness for the plaintiff who questioned his own testimony through the benefit of hindsight, thereby essentially exonerating Dr. Hurwitz from his controversial medical malpractice case:

“On a reflective look, you can make a case that it was not malpractice.” (page 197)

—Robert Mendelson, Author
The Chase for Beauty

Turn the interview into a conversation

For writers to tell a compelling, accurate, pertinent story, they must first conduct compelling, accurate, pertinent interviews. (Without the contents to work with, the best writers in the world can’t create a masterful work of nonfiction.)

In telling the story of Dr. Dennis Hurwitz, a man who lost his only child in a brutal murder and nearly lost his medical practice in a controversial medical malpractice lawsuit, I knew I had to establish meaningful interviews. With that in mind—whether I was speaking with Dr. Hurwitz, his daughter’s convicted murderer, the plaintiff in the malpractice lawsuit, or the many others I spoke to in researching The Chase for Beauty—I had just one goal: turn the interview into a conversation. Interviews lead to public-relations, politically-correct responses. Conversations among two people who trust each other lead to the truth and all the “stranger than fiction” content.

To gain the trust of those I spoke with, I relied on a simple technique: be truthful and open in all of my questions, answers, and comments. In so doing, it is only natural that those sitting across from me would be truthful and open to me in return. When I discussed with Dr. Hurwitz his teenage daughter’s life before she was murdered, I talked about my teenage daughter—her likes, dislikes, and passions. In talking with Mick Anderson, the convicted killer of Karen Hurwitz, about his mindset when he killed Karen, I mentioned what made an impression on me when I was the same age as he when he murdered Karen. In my exchange with Lauri Lewinski, the mother of the young girl who charged Dr. Hurwitz with malpractice, I recalled ER traumas I had with my own children and how I would have done anything at the time to ease my child’s pain.

My publisher likes to note that I conducted approximately 100 interviews before writing The Chase for Beauty, but I think it would be more accurate to say I had approximately 100 conversations.

—Robert Mendelson, Author, The Chase for Beauty

Frequently, I’m asked what was the hardest part about writing The Chase for Beauty.

I understand the curiosity.

After all, I had to look into the eyes of Dr. and Mrs. Dennis Hurwitz and ask them what it felt like to hold their murdered teenage daughter in their arms. I had to ask the convicted murderer, Mick Anderson, what made him lift a sword and plunge it, time and again, into one of his good friend’s hearts. I had to ask the mother of one of Dr. Hurwitz’s patients, Lauri Lewinski, to remember the first moment of realization that her young daughter Heather would be disfigured forever. I had to ask Dr. Hurwitz if he was guilty of malpractice. None of these questions were easy to ask, but they all needed to be answered sincerely and emotionally if I hoped to do justice to this story of ambition, tragedy, success, despair, outrage, and perseverance.

The hardest part for me, though, wasn’t in asking the questions. The hardest part for me was building the trust with everyone I spoke to in the approximately 100 interviews I conducted while researching the book. If those I talked with didn’t trust me then they wouldn’t provide the answers the book needed.

Such trust, I believe, entails empathy—which meant that I not only had to empathize with the parents of a murdered child but also with the convicted killer. I also had to have the same level of empathy for the plaintiff and the defense in the medical malpractice case. Sounds simple, but when dealing with a story that appeared on the surface to be good versus evil, it turned out be my greatest challenge.

- Robert Mendelson, Author of The Chase for Beauty

For those of you who haven’t seen, the case has once again resurfaced in the courts…for a third time: http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/news/breaking/s_559592.html

The following reflection was submitted by Joann Cantrell. It originally appeared in the December 25, 2006 issue of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette and is reprinted with permission.

I never took down my Christmas lights from last year.

I left a single strand across the top of the cabinets in my kitchen and lit them every time my heart sank and I felt the need to lift my spirits. In the last 12 months, that ended up being quite often.

I didn’t have a chance to take down the holiday decorations right away. A week after the New Year began, my 36-year-old brother, Don, unexpectedly showed up at my house on a Saturday morning to take me for a ride in his new car. We didn’t go anywhere special, but the time we spent together that day is a memory I will cherish.

The following Tuesday, after an ordinary day at work, Don collapsed at home from cardiac arrest.

When he reached the emergency room, his heart was shocked seven times and CPR was performed for 15 minutes before a heartbeat was obtained. I have been haunted all year by the unforgettable image of the helicopter he was transported in as it came in to land on the hospital roof that cold, rainy, miserable night. When a young neurologist prepared us that all hope may be lost, I suggested that perhaps we could still pray for a miracle. She shrugged at the notion and half-heartedly replied, “You can if you want to.”

Two days later, my brother woke up.

And so in the dead of winter, my family and I spent 50 days and nights stuck in a hospital purgatory where waiting for an outcome and praying for a miracle are the only diversions to critical situations. In the close quarters, you can often hear others calling out the name of their loved one or praying for God’s mercy to end their suffering.

One night, while sleeping on a chair in the critical-care waiting room, I was startled by a stranger in the middle of the night who came into the room to retrieve something. Realizing that he frightened me, the only words exchanged came from his whisper, “Have hope,” then reiterating as he squeezed my hand, “have hope.”

It was a struggle to keep hope alive.

Don was born with congenital heart defects and had a history of close calls, but each time, he defied expectations and pulled through. Time became his ally. Though Don’s initial prognosis was bleak, each year that he did live was another year of medical advances and new technologies in cardiac care.

Only seven out of 100 people survive cardiac arrest. Along with the miracle of his recovery, we received the precious gift of more time — time for special visits with each other, time for conversations, time to reminisce and laugh. By the end of March, after seven weeks in emergency rooms, intensive and critical cardiac-care units and rehabilitation, Don recovered and was sent home to wait on a donor for a heart transplant.

Much sooner than anyone expected, the call came only 10 days later. We raced once more to the hospital. We spent with my brother what turned out to be the last waking hours of his life.

The high hopes of a second chance with an organ donation as a gift of life did not materialize. Two days after the transplant surgery, he passed away, leaving behind a devastated family and shattered friends.

* * *

The journey of grief is a hard road to walk. I faced my sorrow with an eye-opening realization that life holds no guarantees.

Searching for solace, I took a trip to Ireland with my husband. Still mourning, I cried on the plane ride across the Atlantic. I cried in the churches and I cried in the pubs too, not really caring who was watching.

One sunny afternoon, on a hike to the summit of Croagh Patrick in County Mayo, I realized that grief was quite the same as the strenuous climb into uncharted territory. Each step became a challenge as I found myself climbing on all fours and clinging for balance. Two hours later, when approaching the final mile with a 45-degree slope, I struggled with wanting to quit and wanting to move on. I felt the same way about life, overwhelmed by trying to cope with the mountain of unforeseen circumstances that had come my way.

Along with my husband’s encouragement to continue, there were others I met along the way who were coming down the mountain having already made the climb. Each offered words of inspiration to persevere. Over and over, the sentiments were similar and no one suggested that I give up. A final passing stranger smiled when I asked about the last stretch.

“Keep going,” he urged. “When you get to the top, you’ll gain a whole new perspective.”

He was right. Climbing the mountain was cathartic and reaching the peak showed a magnificent view. I was finally able to see the big picture and now it was time to merge that perspective with the reassurance that I could get through life’s difficult climbs with the support of others.

Yet as this holiday season approached, I found myself wanting most what I can’t have. Selfishly, I wish I could have more days with my brother.

I struggle with the Christmas season and the message given to be filled with hope. Instead, I’m ready to take down the 2006 calendar, rip it to shreds and declare it the worst year I have ever endured.

Or maybe not.

While the loss of my brother left a gaping hole in my heart, his death offered the opportunity to embrace a larger view and appreciate each day of life as a gift. In the midst of grappling with my heart-wrenching loss and attempting to turn grief into gratitude, a baby girl came into my life this year and filled it with joy. Another miracle, another blessing — my first grandchild.

Appropriately, her name is “Hope.”

One of the fastest ways to find the available grief support programs in your city is to do a Google search.

Simply go to google.com and search for the following:
grief counseling, (YOUR CITY, YOUR STATE)

For example, in Pittsburgh, I would type:
grief counseling, pittsburgh, pa

Hit “search,” and you should see a list of results like this: