I moved to Passaic, NJ nine years ago, right after my youngest daughter was born. It was a difficult time for me personally, as my father had just been diagnosed with cancer. When my father came to visit me, Dr. Samet frequently saw him at synagogue. Dr. Samet’s natural compassion was such that he noticed the new man in synagogue who appeared to be cold and shivering. No sweater could warm my father due to the sickness inside. Dr. Samet could not do enough for him. His humanity was such that he was extremely bothered by this and would tell me whenever he saw me, “What can we do for your father? I just wish we could do something for him.”
I felt the warmth of his kindness. Dr. Samet’s empathy for not only the suffering of my father but for the powerlessness of his loved ones to alleviate it, profoundly moved me. I felt an immediate bond with him that would only strengthen in the years to come.
My father’s condition worsened. I spent as much time as I could at the hospital. On the Friday before the last Shabbos of his life, I prepared to leave for the hospital. My friends came to my home to stay with my children. But when my daughter woke up from her nap, I saw that she had developed croup. As croup often does, she presented with symptoms that appeared perhaps more terrifying than they warranted. She gasped, wheezed and sounded like she could barely breathe. She cried, buried her head inside the crook of my neck and clung to me for dear life. It was the most agonizing moment of my life – to be torn between the love and duty of a mother toward her sick child, and the love and duty of a daughter toward her dying father.
I was distraught and completely immobilized. I did not know what to do. I called Dr. Samet. He said, “Go to your father. I’ll take care of your baby. She will be fine. I’ll come to the house over Shabbos. Don’t worry. Trust me and go to your father.”
And so I went. Dr. Samet made house calls to my daughter over Shabbos and personally checked to make sure that she was fine and that her croup was not dangerous. I had peace of mind knowing that she was safe and in good hands. I remained at my father’s bedside until the moment he took his last breath. I will always be grateful to Dr. Samet for gifting me that.
Dr. Samet dancing at a patient's bar mitzvah.
My father died in the morning and his funeral was held a few hours later in Brooklyn. There wasn’t much time to get the word out, as we needed to get him to the airport to reach his final resting place in Israel. While much of what took place in those ensuing hours remain a blur to me, one thing I do remember is seeing Dr. Samet’s face among the crowd. That he made the time, on such short notice, to travel to Brooklyn for my father’s funeral in the midst of his busy schedule astounded me. Perhaps I should not have been surprised. A person who felt so much, could do no less.
Dr. Samet was the old fashioned family doctor of yesteryear. The kind who makes house calls. The kind who calls after a visit to see how your child is feeling. Like the grandfather who manages to make every grandchild feel like he’s the favorite, my children each felt they shared a bond with him. Even my mother was connected to Dr. Samet. When she came to Passaic for the weekend and got sick or needed a doctor, he would always see her without fail.
There were so many things to admire about Dr. Samet, even beyond his medical skill and dedication. His connection to God – he said a prayer before giving each child a shot. His humility – he insisted my husband call him Elliot and not doctor. His commitment – his zeal for the safety of the community’s children was legendary, providing education on many issues including wearing sunblock, helmets when bicycling, and avoiding drinking on Purim.
There are so many stories told about Dr. Samet. These are but a small glimpse of my own. Perhaps the most descriptive story is this: upon hearing the news of his passing, three generations of my family cried.
Our relationship with Dr. Samet will not end. It will transform into a new kind of relationship. A relationship of memories. A relationship where we call upon his wisdom and remind ourselves of what Dr. Samet would say, and what Dr. Samet would do. A new pediatrician may preside over our children’s future well visits, but Dr. Samet will always be our family doctor.
(10) Judy Shapiro, July 20, 2020 5:53 PM
Beautiful tribute!
Tzivy, what a beautifully written tribute to our beloved Dr. Samet a"h! We were very lucky to have him as our family pediatrician. Our community lost a very great man! We are heartbroken.
(9) Anonymous, July 17, 2020 4:28 AM
Beautiful Tribute
Such a special and beautiful tribute. Didn't know him personally but had heard only the best things about him. What a loss for the Passaic community and all of Klal Yisroel. May we all get past this incredibly difficult period very soon.
(8) Reuven Frank, July 16, 2020 3:03 PM
What a doctor SHOULD be
I am 60-years old and remember doctors like Reb Samet from my youth.
Back then doctors behaved in a manner that showed that they had PEOPLE who were patients and not ID numbers with patients attached.
One of my biggest disappointments in life is professionals purporting to be there for people when they are only there for paychecks.
HaRav Dr. Samet sounds like the kind of mentsch who understood that
even in the 21st century.
May you all be comforted amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem and
not have added unto you sorrow, any more
(7) Ziva Lautman Glanz, July 16, 2020 12:38 AM
Exactly Dr. Samet
Generations of our family cried, devastated, as well. There was none like him. When my eldest was born premature, Dr. Samet arranged for UV- hospital equipment to be delivered to our home, so I shouldn't be seperated from him. At 7:15 every morning, we would bring him to Dr. Samet to get checked. Even after we moved to Israel, we always brought our kids back to him each summer, while visiting family, to have their yearly checkups. We just didn't trust anyone else the same way. He was a very special Tzaddik and the personification of what an Eved Hashem should be. He is absolutely irreplaceable and we could think of nothing but his incredible wife, with whom he did everything, and family.
(6) Anonymous, July 15, 2020 1:18 AM
Dr. Samet
Beautifully written. Still can not believe he is not with us.
(5) Nat, July 15, 2020 1:03 AM
What a beautiful story. What a beautiful person Thank you for sharing.
(4) Shira Katzenstein, July 14, 2020 7:41 PM
Special family
We are lucky that Dr. Samet's son married our sister- and we got a glimpse into the special family. Tzivia- it was a beautiful article in his memory- and for me it was nice to see your name and where you are these days. May you be zoche to have much health and nachas.
(3) CB Spira, July 14, 2020 4:38 PM
We all miss Dr. Samet!
Dr. Samet a"h was not just our pediatrician, he was a friend and trusted advisor. His guidance saved the life of our then-unborn son diagnosed en-utero with a severe medical condition. My kids mention his name daily and we all miss him. May his neshama have an aliyah.
(2) Anonymous, July 14, 2020 3:49 PM
possible kinship.
The name Samet is the same as my late mother's cousins. Is the family possibly of Hungarian extraction? My mother's family lived in the north east part of Hungary near the Czechoslovakian border. My mother had a first cousin (late Tzvi Samet here in Toronto) . His wife is still living . When I saw this article it occurred to me that the name might be related if the background is similar. Can you get more information?
(1) Anonymous, July 12, 2020 6:57 PM
What a moving tribute!
Re Dr. Samet, ztz"L: The author's beautiful, detailed tribute shows the doctor to truly deserve the title of "Tzaddik." Thank you for revealing that such a person inhabited the same planet as we do. It gives hope that there may be some others around like him, too, and perhaps will inspire us more ordinary human beings to (at least try to) follow in his ways. I never met Dr. Samet, or even heard of him, before his petirah, but I mourn his loss with a lump in my throat and moisture in my eyes after reading your heartfelt words. May the Ribono shel Olam comfort his family and the many others who feel the loss. Yehi zichro baruch.