J. Michael Bishop

It’s hard to believe we’re saying goodbye to Michael. February 22nd, 1936, brought a brilliant mind into the world, and March 20th, 2026, saw him gently slip away, leaving a hole in all our lives that will never quite be filled. Michael wasn’t just a Nobel laureate, a chancellor, or a renowned immunologist – he was, at his core, a wonderfully quirky, deeply kind, and endlessly curious man. I remember when I first met him, years ago, he was excitedly explaining his latest research on pneumonia to a group of utterly bewildered graduate students – he had this infectious enthusiasm that just made you want to learn everything he knew. He’d often pepper his explanations with self-deprecating jokes and a twinkle in his eye, completely disarming everyone. That was Michael – brilliant, yes, but also wonderfully human. He was the most devoted husband to my sister, Sarah, and the most amazing father to his children, Emily and David. Their family was everything to him, and he poured his heart into creating a warm and loving home. I’ll always cherish the memories of family dinners filled with his terrible (but enthusiastic) singing, and the countless hours spent building elaborate Lego castles with David – a testament to his playful spirit that never truly faded. He adored his grandchildren, showering them with stories, silly faces, and an unwavering belief in their potential. Sarah often said he had a knack for making everyone feel seen and valued, a quality he carried into his professional life as well, mentoring countless students and colleagues throughout his career. Michael’s passion for science was matched only by his love for the outdoors. He could often be found hiking in the hills surrounding San Francisco, sketchbook in hand, meticulously documenting the wildflowers and birds he encountered. He was a surprisingly talented watercolorist, capturing the beauty of the natural world with a gentle hand. Beyond his research and his family, he found joy in simple things – a good book, a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, and a lively conversation. He truly believed in the power of knowledge and the importance of sharing it with others, and he dedicated his life to that pursuit. Michael’s impact extended far beyond the laboratory and the university halls. He was a generous, thoughtful man who touched the lives of so many. He leaves behind a legacy of scientific discovery, unwavering kindness, and a profound appreciation for the beauty of the world around him. We will miss his laughter, his wisdom, and his truly remarkable spirit. Rest in peace, dear Michael.