Another valued voice of the myeloma community has been lost.

Stephen P. Kramer, author of the Beacon column “Manhattan Tales ^[1],” passed away last Friday, August 8, at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City. Stephen was 66 years old, and was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in early 2010.

At the time of his diagnosis, Stephen was working as Chief of Staff and Special Counsel to the Commissioner of the New York City Department of Buildings. This position was the culmination of a successful legal career that stretched back across four decades, and which routinely re­flected Stephen’s desire to practice law in the public interest.

Stephen’s multiple myeloma diagnosis brought him into territory unfamiliar and confounding to him as a lawyer. He could not sue the disease. He could not get a restraining order issued against it. He could not lobby for new legislation prohibiting it.

What he could do, however, was draw on one of the key inspirations for his legal career.

In a movie from several years ago, one of the main characters explains,

The law isn't perfect. Neither are the people who have created it. But it has been made with endless effort to do good.

Stephen believed that a key function of the law was “to do good.” And, repurposing that belief, he decided in late 2011 to write a column for The Beacon so he could share his myeloma journey with the broader mye­lo­ma community and with his friends and family.

Stephen understood that the simple act of describing his trials and tribulations – of documenting his will to survive, be with his family a little longer, and appreciate life a bit more – would inspire many more to do the same.

And inspire he did. Over the course of 26 editions of “Manhattan Tales,” Stephen leveraged the writing skills he had honed during his legal career to make all of us feel that we were right there with him, accompanying him along his journey.

We walked with Stephen as he strolled through the trees and wildlife of Central Park on his way to his next round of treatment. We swam next to him as he did laps in the swimming pool, soothing not just his pe­riph­er­al neuropathy, but also his mind and soul. We rejoiced with him as he spent time with his beloved family, and as he marveled at the city which he was so proud to call home.

Perhaps most of all, we felt – and were stirred by – Stephen’s visceral desire to keep on living in the face of adversity. As fellow Beacon columnist Tabitha Tow Burns noted, “Stephen's columns were an uplifting, in­spiring voice for the myeloma community.”

Regrettably, there was far too much adversity during Stephen’s myeloma journey. After his diagnosis, he first underwent treatment with a combination of Revlimid, Velcade, and dexamethasone. Due to worsening peripheral neuropathy, he had to drop the Velcade, and he also switched from dexamethasone to pred­ni­sone for side effect-related reasons. He then continued on Revlimid and prednisone until he relapsed two years after his diagnosis.

At that point, he underwent his first autologous stem cell transplant, was treatment-free for a while, but then started a dash through several different myeloma therapies. This rapid succession of different treatments included two clinical trials of potential new myeloma drugs; Pomalyst and dexamethasone (with cyclo­phos­pha­mide added in at one point); and the combination therapy known as DCEP.

The DCEP was intended as a “bridging therapy” in preparation for a second autologous transplant, which Stephen had earlier this year. The autologous stem cell transplant was followed in June by an allogeneic transplant with stem cells donated by his sister Edie.

Unfortunately, just as his sister’s stem cells were successfully engrafting in his body, an infection that most likely had been lingering within Stephen reared its head, and it was too much of a challenge for Stephen’s still weakened immune system.

Although most of us think of Stephen as a New Yorker, he was born and raised in Washington, DC. He left the nation’s capital to attend boarding school in Connecticut, college in Massachusetts, and law school in Pennsylvania.

After law school, he initially spent time working on a presidential campaign, but then settled in New York City to start his legal career. That career eventually would involve work in city government, at two different law firms (including a private practice of his own), and as a judge.

Stephen is survived by his wife Bonnie, his three children Jacob, Sarah, and Alex, and his sisters Ruth Kramer Ziony and Edie Kramer Wilairat.

Stephen’s full obituary is available online ^[2]. His funeral service was held earlier today at Riverside Memorial Chapel in Manhattan.

Reflections on Stephen’s passing and the contributions he made to the myeloma community can be found in this Beacon forum thread ^[3] and in the comments on this Beacon Facebook posting ^[4] from last night and on this Facebook posting today ^[5].

Shortly before his allogeneic transplant, Stephen started work on a column about the procedure. The column was never finalized, but it contained this passage that captures the courage and perseverance so often evidenced in Stephen’s writing:

One way I have learned to cope with the physical and emotional challenges of myeloma-related procedures is to imagine that I am on a climb of Mount Everest, and that the preparatory chemo­ther­a­pies and autologous transplant were my trip to the base camp.

I may have twisted my ankle a couple of times on the way to the base camp, but somehow I made it. And, when I’m undergoing a difficult procedure, I fantasize that I’m reaching with an ice pick and slamming crampons into the ice as I try to pull myself up the mountain another few feet.

I have never climbed anything more difficult than a well marked trail in the Canadian Rockies. Never­the­less, this mental trick has enabled me to get through numerous difficult biopsies, infusions, and other invasive procedures without too many tears.

Climbing Mt.Everest (or undergoing an allogeneic transplant) may not be the challenge that I would voluntarily have chosen to undertake as a 66 year-old guy, but it is the challenge that has been pre­sented to me, and I still have enough strength to try and meet it.

Onward and upward to the Everest peak itself!

Thank you, Stephen, for sharing your climb with us. May your new journey beyond the summit be full of wonder, love, and peace.