Dr. Morton Farber

October 27, 1931 – April 12, 2020

My father, Dr. Morton Farber, affectionately known as Mort the Sport, Uncle Daddy Mort, Uncle Daddy Mort the Sport, and sometimes simply as Mort, died peacefully at the Daughters of Israel nursing home on April 12, 2020 after a long period of infirmity.

Born in Elizabeth, New Jersey on October 27, 1931 to Hyman and Lillian Farber, he was one of three children, his older sister, Frances, having predeceased him in adulthood and his eldest brother, Eugene, having died in infancy.

Raised in Roselle, Mort attended public school followed by Pennsylvania State University. He studied forestry (inspired by summers spent working at the family lumber yard) before shifting his focus to medicine, having been influenced by Frances’ husband, who was a physician.

Mort matriculated at University of Amsterdam Medical School in the early 1950’s, drawn to that institution by its $50 per semester tuition, reputation for academic excellence, and the allure of the city of Amsterdam. Facile with languages, he learned enough Dutch while transiting the Atlantic Ocean by ship to comfortably take his classes in that language and to graduate with honors four years later. He immersed himself in the arts and culture of Amsterdam, which recalled the old-world sensibilities that his parents had brought with them from Russia and Poland.

After graduating medical school, Mort joined the US Air Force and was stationed as a medical officer in Prum, Germany, eventually reaching the rank of Captain and commanding the base hospital. He continued to revel in European culture, especially the thrilling automotive scene of the time, becoming a regular at the Nürburgring racecourse. He was inspired to purchase his first Jaguar, which (despite a passenger side door that would not open such that my mother had to climb through the window) he brought back to the US upon his return in the early 1960’s, along with an enduring love of sportscars.

Stateside, Mort began a residency in Orthopedic Surgery in Newark and Orange NJ, launching a career that would become one of the great loves of his life. He practiced and flourished as an orthopedic surgeon for 50 years, finally retiring at the age of 84; an epic tenure for a surgeon. His achievements were numerous but his medical society governance, standardization of protocols to eliminate wrong-side surgeries, pioneering work in total hip arthroplasty, and skill in performing complex reconstructive surgeries were particularly notable, as was the charity work he performed in his office and at a free clinic in the city of Elizabeth.

In 1962, at a party in New York City, was born the other great love of Mort’s life; his greatest love, his relationship with Rosalie. After a storied courtship, married in 1966, Rosalie and Mort started their life together in Elizabeth, NJ, close to Mort’s orthopedic practice, later moving to Hillside and finally to Short Hills. They had two children, David in 1969, and Sara in 1975. An accomplished educator, Rosalie suspended her teaching career and applied herself fully to raising their children, supporting Mort’s orthopedic career, and establishing a welcoming and beautiful home for family and friends to enjoy. Over the course of almost 40 years, in their sunny, yellow dining room, Rosalie and Mort hosted numerous simchas including Break-fasts, Seders, and Thanksgivings that have come to comprise our most precious collective memories.

Mort was a fun and loving father. I will always remember his menacing cry of “Bear in the Cave” as he raided my pillow forts to hug me when I was a little kid in our Hillside home. I will always remember summer days with him at the race track in Lime Rock, Connecticut, cheering on Porsche 935’s as they battled for the Camel GT trophy. And in winter, clicking ski boots into bindings, I am still reminded of idyllic family vacations in Vail, Colorado, skiing with Dad on our favorite trails.

I will always remember Dad’s tenderness toward Sara, whom he lovingly called Bujie, derived, as he would tell it, from the Romanian word for “spark plug” but also (always the linguist) invoking the Polish phrase daj mi buzi; “give me a kiss.” He shared his love of poetry, painting, and punchlines with Sara, encouraging her creative interests and ultimately her career in the arts.

And I will always remember his love for my mother, whom he affectionately called Ro or Roper, and how he danced with her like it was nobody’s business.

Mort was so many things; a loving father, husband, grandfather, and uncle, a gifted surgeon, an exotic car enthusiast, a sometimes horseman and motorcyclist, a raconteur, an athlete, and an adventurer. He embodied a life fully lived. He was a huge part of the fabric of our extended family and of the communities in which he worked and lived, and his death leaves a rent in that fabric that will not be easily mended.

Mort is survived by his wife Rosalie, children David and Sara, daughter-in-law Michaela, son-in-law Bryan, grandchildren Hannah, Ben, and Sadie, niece Eva, nephew Josh, and many other loving relatives and friends whose lives he touched in myriad and wonderful ways.

Lovingly submitted on behalf of Rosalie, Sara, and myself,

David Farber