Who wouldn’t appreciate a family physician whose name is Doctor Good? He was of the “old school,” arriving at our home or our hospital bed his stethoscope around his neck and his black medical bag in his hand. He treated our entire family for everything from colds to flus to broken bones to meningitis. My family was composed of a widowed mother with five children, and he never asked us for more than my Mom could afford. His presence matched his name.
During World War II while the United States was researching and developing the first nuclear weapons, Wowa Zev Gdud was being hunted by the Nazis in what is now Lithuania. Miraculously he escaped execution for being Jewish three times, once even falling into a mass grave and feigning death, having been missed by the firing squad. At one point, as he was hiding out in the forest, he came across two Nazi soldiers from the same battalion that had killed his mother and brother. Gun in hand, he had the two men kneel down in a swamp and pointed his gun at their heads, but he couldn’t pull the trigger, not wanting to add to the cycle of death.
After the war and having completed his physician studies in Italy, he immigrated to the United States and changed his name to Dr. William Z. Good. He spent the rest of his life compassionately caring for the sick while charming everyone he met with his wit.