Sharon Pope
My sisters and I were patients of this kind and gentle man, and my (Asian) mother had the utmost respect and admiration for him. Coming from a family of physicians, I believe Dr Brill reminded my mom of her own father which somehow probably left her feeling less homesick at times. He would share stories with her of his grandmother who had immigrated to this country, and said she spoke her mother tongue until the day she died. For my mother, Dr Brill represented a man who was filled with compassion and love for all people.
Aside from my most vivid memories of a practice that was once located next to a running creek of rushing water, and an ever-present 'antiseptic' smell - scary for any small child because it meant that you were probably visiting that day for a shot - the one recollection that stands out the most would be of the day that I cut my hand on some glass as I played with the neighborhood kids. I was rushed to Dr Brill's office, and he must have been on his way home because he called his wife and my mother heard him say something like "Dear, I'm going to be late because I have a little kiddo here....". How many times that scenario must have been played out. My mother said that it was an awful, jagged mess, and it took two nurses to hold me down as two shots were administered to contain me. All I remember is the black Felix-the-cat clock with a long tail that hung on a wall going tick-tock.
Fast forward to many, many years later: I happened to see Dr Brill at a local clothing store, and the clerks were chatting with him. I was in a rush, and I so wanted to interrupt to show him his handiwork of what was once a very small hand that had had a very big cut, with a now barely discernible scar, thanks to his skilled hands. I left the store very much regretting that I did not get to thank this wonderful man for taking such great care of my sisters and me.
The world today sure could use a few more men like Dr Brill.
With much gratitude,
Sharon M Pope