It is with a heavy heart that I share the passing of my grandfather, Stanley “Grandpa Hippo” Foster, of blessed memory, who lived by all metrics a life worth living, one of honor, humor, optimism, and a steadfast sense of duty to others and to humanity.
Grandpa was a celebrated epidemiologist who worked with the CDC and WHO to investigate and mitigate outbreaks of trachoma, rabies, measles, shigella, keratoconjunctivitis, rotavirus, ebola, lassa fever, malaria, and more, all over the world. He was best known for his work of over ten years on the WHO’s smallpox eradication team, most notably as team leader for programs in Nigeria, Somalia, and Bangladesh, where he and his colleagues successfully diagnosed the world’s last case of malignant smallpox. After more than four decades in public health, he transitioned to teaching, particularly with the Emory Rollins School of Public Health, and continued to give lectures and advise his students (or “learners,” as he preferred to call them) until the end of his life.
Grandpa was a stoic, sharp, humble, wonderful character and a half. He spoke succinctly and profoundly, could jump from serious to jovial in a second, and while always deeply caring and appreciative of others, never stayed silent if he observed selfishness and laziness. He was internally one of the strongest human beings I have ever had the privilege to know, always bringing a smile and a laugh even under the greatest pressure. After experiencing first-hand the suffering and extreme poverty of others around the world, his life motto might well have been “grin and bear it–” even as his health declined at the end of his life, through sheer force of will (and far more than anyone could have expected), he was largely able to physically keep up with the rest of the family, even walking a 5k and swimming a quarter mile while going through chemotherapy treatments for his first bout with cancer. Also, during this period, one of the final times he and I spent a long time alone together, he was caring for ME; we were visiting my grandma’s birthplace in the mountains of Guatemala, and I fell ill with some kind of traveler plague– and my grandpa was, despite his own condition, immediately ready to jump back into doctor mode, with all the right medicine and all the right advice, and many hours of conversation on topics ranging from music to medicine to philosophy to literature. Grandpa was deeply devoted to his family, making sure to teach all of us the value of family and serving as a lynchpin in a deeply connected extended family, beloved and revered by all.
Grandpa was an incredible survivor and gleefully relished in the stories of many moments in his career he might have died. He survived good times and bad, and he took personal responsibility for helping several family members through very hard times in their lives. Sadly, after beating all the odds, overcoming a first bout with cancer and pushing a second bout to the bitter end of his prognosis, he was hospitalized a few days ago and peacefully died this morning. Thankfully, my dad and aunt were able to be there with him and my grandma at the end.
In lieu of flowers, wear a mask.
Grandpa
