[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 144 (Thursday, October 6, 1994)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page E]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: October 6, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
                     TRIBUTE TO DR. HARVEY NUSSBAUM

                                 ______


                            HON. BOB FRANKS

                             of new jersey

                    in the house of representatives

                       Thursday, October 6, 1994

  Mr. FRANKS of New Jersey. Mr. Speaker, today I rise to pay tribute to 
Dr. Harvey Nussbaum for his long and distinguished career as a 
physician with St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, NJ. Dr. Nussbaum 
has dedicated more than 50 years to the medical profession and to his 
community. Last Sunday, the following article appeared in the Newark 
Star Ledger, our local newspaper, outlining the many achievements of 
Dr. Nussbaum. I commend this article to my colleagues' attention and I 
congratulate Dr. Nussbaum for his unselfish service to the residents of 
Northern and Central New Jersey.

                  [From the Star-Ledger, Oct. 2, 1994]

                           A Medical Journey


               st. barnabas honors doctor's long service

                           (By George Berkin)

       Harvey Nussbaum's parents who ran a haberdashery in the 
     Ironbound section of Newark, never wanted their son to become 
     a doctor.
       ``My mother said, `You're the only boy we have. Who will we 
     turn the business over to?'''Nussbaum recalled.
       But he prevailed over his parents' plans and went on to 
     become a physician. He has continued to practice medicine, as 
     an internist and a cardiologist, for more than a half-
     century.
       From the beginning, except for a stint in the Army during 
     World War II, Dr. Nussbaum practiced at St. Barnabas Medical 
     Center, following the hospital from its earlier home in 
     Newark to its present location in Livingston.
       So, in a small token of thanks, the hospital in which 
     Nussbaum has spent most of his career will honor him Oct. 16 
     with a special dinner in the Hilton at Short Hills.
       ``I'm overwhelmed by the honor,'' said Nussbaum. ``Being a 
     modest guy, I think they must be thinking about somebody 
     else.''
       The dinner, in addition to recognizing the large role 
     Nussbaum has played in St. Barnabas, will publicize a 
     research foundation named in honor of Nussbaum, who also 
     teaches at UMDMJ in Newark.
       The foundation will help pay for research into everything 
     from the possibility of manipulating genes to cure cancer to 
     the use of advanced medicines for the treatment of burn 
     patients.
       All the attention, and the long way medicine has come since 
     Nussbaum began practice at St. Barnabas in 1938, has him a 
     bit overwhelmed.
       Shortly after he graduated from New York Medical College in 
     1938, for example, sulfa drugs and other antibiotics first 
     made their appearance.
       ``Diseases like pneumonia, which was then the leading cause 
     of death, suddenly became curable,'' said Nussbaum. In its 
     place, heart disease shot up the list of killers.
       Later on, Nussbaum witnessed great strides in other medical 
     fields, from ways to keep premature infants alive to methods 
     of increasing the odds for severely burned patients.
       ``My excitement about medicine only increases,'' said 
     Nussbaum. ``If you're knowledgeable, you can't help but be 
     excited about seeing all these semi-miraculous things.''
       Nussbaum also saw St. Barnabas grow. In 1964, for example, 
     he helped the hospital make the move from High Street in 
     Newark to Livingston.
       In addition, as clinical chief of the Department of 
     Medicine for 14 years, and then as chairman of the department 
     and director of the hospital's residency program for 12 
     years, Nussbaum helped hundreds of young doctors put their 
     training into practice.
       ``I saw this wonderful growth in this wonderful 
     institution,'' he said.
       Nussbaum's medical practice also put him in contact with 
     the miraculous--and the tragic--during his service in the 
     Army fighting the Nazis.
       Two weeks after D-Day, Nussbaum led the setting up of the 
     16th Field Hospital at Normandy to care for wounded Allied 
     soldiers.
       The doctors used makeshift equipment to treat the wounded. 
     Soldiers were operated on on canvas sheets strung between 
     wooden ``horses'' used by carpenters. It was Nussbaum's job 
     as commanding officer to decide which patients were operated 
     on in what order.
       The Army mobile hospital then followed the Allied forces 
     east across Europe. On one occasion, the hospital, packing up 
     quickly and moving under the cover of night, and man-made 
     Army ``fog,'' outran the Army and landed smack in the middle 
     of German troops.
       Stunned to be confronted by unarmed medics, the Germans 
     surrendered. ``They were probably tired of it all,'' said 
     Nussbaum.
       ```Doctor from Newark captures 1,000 German troops' was the 
     headline back home,'' Nussbaum recalled. More than 40 German 
     officers also surrendered.
       Later on, Nussbaum's unit went on to liberate the inmates 
     at the Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria.
       ``We took care of what inmates were still alive,'' Nussbaum 
     said. ``Each day, some 20 or 25 more died, because they were 
     skin and bones.''
       It was then on to Czechoslovakia, where Nussbaum's unit met 
     up with the Russians. After running a hospital in occupied 
     Germany, Nussbaum returned home as a major after the war to 
     St. Barnabas.
       Medicine holds many more surprises, said Nussbaum. A cure 
     for cancer? Maybe. Genetic research involving computers holds 
     out a lot of promise. The cure is still decades away, but it 
     looks promising.
       Will people commonly live to be 100?
       ``I think its a breakable barrier,'' the doctor said.

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