I first met Haig 29 years ago at a Human Mutation Detection meeting in Turin, Italy. That encounter took me in the direction of defining molecular genetic causes of human diseases, including breast cancer genes, as my career path for the last three decades. He asked me to join the journal as a Communicating Editor in 2003, which has continued to this day. It has been a very fulfilling and rewarding experience that I will cherish forever. I have also had the privilege of riding on a unique journey with Haig in the realm of Gene Patenting while he was at Penn. Haig and I were the lead co-plaintiffs in the now famous case of ACLU versus Myriad Genetics in 2008. I sat next to him inside the Supreme Court on the day of deliberations in April, 2013 and we celebrated together the unanimous decision that genes cannot be patented in June, 2013. At Penn, Haig hired a whole generation of junior faculty members whose careers have matured into big scientific success stories. One of his main contributions was to build bridges between basic scientists at Penn with clinical human geneticists at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. This effort resulted in many successful collaborations including training multiple physician scientists who have gone on to be leaders in many different organizations. His scientific curiosity compelled him to always ask questions and raise intriguing thoughts at every meeting he attended – be it departmental Journal Club or the American Society of Human Genetics annual meetings. His friends and colleagues at the department at Penn deeply felt his absence after he left for Johns Hopkins. We all missed the casual encounters with him as he walked into our offices which often led to long discussions on science, how to teach medical genetics, empathy for immigrant colleagues, students, and post-docs and, above all, life and family. I saw his biggest smile when his grandson unveiled his photograph that adorns the wall of Clinical Research Building Lobby.

On its founding in 1992, Human Mutation was conceived with both patient-oriented and functional aspects of human molecular genetics in mind. Haig, a renowned research clinician, collaborated with technical scientist Richard “Dick” Cotton to lead the journal with a yin-yang of application and innovation for fifteen years. They were dedicated to making their journal relevant beyond just citations and downloads. In fact, I’d argue that Haig and Dick anticipated the present era of open science. In the late 1990s, they launched a section of free online-only articles years before “open access” exploded. In the early 2000s, they insisted on making the novel genetic variation data they published freely available through public databases. As their managing editor and publisher, it was all I could do to keep up with them as they pushedHuman Mutation into the future! The editorial and scientific success of Haig was not achieved at the expense of others. For me, Haig will forever remain an exemplar of the best type of scientist-editor: one who, while forward thinking, does not lose sight of the present and those within it. Evident at every encounter was his engagement, with not only the science but, more importantly, with the people behind it. Haig would urge the editorial board toward excellence, but not merely in pursuit of an Impact Factor. He was not an editor who ticked the boxes and processed the papers. He was all about inspiring those with whom he worked. For the journal, this meant cultivating relationships with not just the editors and reviewers and office staff, but also the authors. Haig was among the most sincere, honest, and approachable scientists I have ever known, never too busy to answer a question or to suggest an approach. After he retired as Co-Editor in 2007, he stayed on as a Communicating Editor and continued, gently, to assist where needed and advise if asked. Along with Haig’s numerous acquaintances over the years at Wiley, I am so grateful for having had the opportunity to walk a bit of this earth with him.