By Tara Sims, Archivist & Special Collections Librarian — National Archives Month, 2025.
Rewind
In 1981, the Texas Medical Center institutions gathered to celebrate Dr. McGovern’s remarkable contributions to medicine, medical education, philanthropy, and to Houston itself. The occasion was an Appreciations Dinner held on May 5 in the ballroom of The Doctors’ Club of Houston—a room watched over by an imposing portrait of Sir William Osler, whose influence shaped so many aspects of McGovern’s career. It was a night filled with string ensemble music, heartfelt tributes, and the kind of admiration that can only be offered to someone who has truly altered the landscape of a field and a community.
Distinguished guests shared memories and praise, but it was prominent attorney Leon Jaworski who delivered the keynote remarks—recounting the night he first met “Jack” at Bayou Bend with Miss Ima Hogg and recognizing the soaring achievements that followed McGovern to Houston. He spoke of his research in allergy and clinical immunology, his leadership across the Texas Medical Center, his unique breadth of faculty appointments, his dedication to medical libraries and the preservation of rare books, and his longstanding service on the Board of Regents of the National Library of Medicine. Jaworski’s words painted a portrait familiar to those of us who work with McGovern’s archival legacy: a brilliant physician guided by humility, generosity, curiosity, and a deep love for people.
The most touching element of the dinner, however, was not the list of accomplishments—impressive as they are—but the acknowledgment of McGovern’s humanity. Jaworski paused to recognize his wife, Kathrine, as the “unsung heroine” of his success. Colleagues called him a man of “vision and imagination,” a humanitarian with “indomitable spirit,” “innate integrity,” and “a lifetime of loyalty to friends.”
Fast Forward
Since early 2023, I have been processing the John P. McGovern Papers (MS 115) at the McGovern Historical Center—a substantial collection of more than 250 boxes that together trace a full and remarkable life. Inside are his grandmother’s silver locket, handmade Valentine’s cards he created for his mother as a boy, raw research data from his clinical work, photographs from his honeymoon with his wife, Kathy, and letters from parents grateful for the care their children received (among a myriad of other professional and personal materials within the collection). Over these past two and a half years, I’ve come to recognize his sweeping signature, his meticulous handwritten notes and revisions, and the warmth that somehow carried through even his typewritten correspondence. The photographs, clippings, and speeches I’ve encountered all reveal a man whose work was never merely professional—it was deeply personal. In many ways, processing his collection has been an extended introduction to the man behind the accolades.
Earlier this week, while arranging and describing a box of correspondence and photographs for what will be the HAM–TMC Library Series in MS 115, I found a cassette tape labeled simply “McGovern Appreciation Dinner.” I had already come across printed copies of the evening’s tributes and Dr. McGovern’s own remarks, so I suspected the tape might contain his voice—if time had been kind to it. Using our playback equipment in our Digital Lab, I chose Side 2 of the cassette, pressed play, and his voice filled the room. The moment caught me off guard. After years of reading his words, hearing him was something else entirely.
Press Play
In the recording, he speaks with warmth and gratitude—thanking colleagues, celebrating friendships, and expressing disbelief at the praise surrounding him. He jokes lightly about quitting smoking and about the greatest fortune of his life: marrying Kathrine. He reflects on his love for the Texas Medical Center and the Oslerian principles that guided his service. His tone is humble, joyful, and deeply sincere.
Hearing him has transformed the papers around me. The photographs have become livelier. The letters more personal. The archival collection, though already rich, gained a new dimension—sound—which allowed the man behind the materials to step forward for the first time.
Preserve and Protect
For National Archives Month, we are honored to share selections from this celebration with our community: digitized images from the event and, most meaningfully, a brief excerpt of Dr. McGovern’s speech. I hope that when you listen, you will feel a bit of what I did—connection, admiration, and gratitude for a life spent bettering others. As archivists, we serve as stewards of the historical record, preserving these materials so that voices like Dr. McGovern’s can continue to inform, inspire, and endure long after their moment has passed.
Dr. McGovern’s legacy lives on in clinics and classrooms, in books and research, and in the very institutions of the Texas Medical Center. But it also lives quietly in the archives—where history endures not as silence, but as evidence of a life well lived.