I received this letter following the murders of my husband, Dr. David Applebaum, and our daughter Naava, in a terrorist bombing the night before her wedding.“It was the summer of 1996 when I found myself in Jerusalem. I fell quite ill, and my roommates convinced me to go to a pre-hospital emergency room. In walked a middle-aged man sporting a beard and kippah and wearing the traditional white medical coat. And like iridescent diamonds on a lonely black night came his words. ‘Applebaum,
‘said the doctor. ‘That’s my name, and we’re going to take care of you.’The examination began and abruptly ended. ‘It’s a virus,’ he said. ‘Nothing much to do except sit and wait it out.’ The examination had been short. I thanked him and I made my way home.
At 1:00 a.m., there was a knock at the door, and there stood Dr. Applebaum along with a nurse. ‘I don’t mean to disturb you,’ said Dr. Applebaum, ‘but I felt some measure of concern after you left, and I just thought I would pop over after my shift to make sure your condition hadn’t deteriorated.’
‘Popping over’ meant traveling a distance of 40 minutes out of his way. What I remember is the kindness of a soul who had pity on a woman, old enough to be on her own, but young enough to feel alienated, far from home.
There are men like Dr. Applebaum who leave a mark wherever they go, and they touch the lives of all who meet them.”
Debra Applebaum has a Master’s Degree from Case Western and a Master’s Degree in Bible from Haifa University/Matan.