This memorial website was created in memory of our loved one, Dean Jacoby (1928 - 2014). Information that the family wishes to pass along will be shared here, and in turn, we ask that you feel free to share your thoughts and memories, as well as any photographs and media that you wish to contribute.
Dr. M. Dean Jacoby passed away peacefully on November 11, 2014. He was born on November 23, 1928 in Detroit, Michigan, the only child of Dr. and Mrs. Myron David Jacoby. He graduated from Brown University in 1950, and completed work on his Master’s degree in History prior to attending Medical School at Wayne State University. He later received a Master’s degree in Art History from SMU.
After becoming co-chief resident at Children’s Hospital in Detroit, then serving in the US Army Medical Corps, he opened a pediatrics practice in Dallas, Texas on January 2, 1952. In addition to his private practice, he worked at several local hospitals, attaining the position of Chief of Pediatrics at St. Paul Hospital and teaching at Southwestern Medical School as an Associate Clinical Professor.
He had a remarkable career, presiding over many unusual cases such as Siamese twins, quadruplets and children with multiple abnormalities. For his exemplary work, he was awarded an honorary degree by the Pediatric Society of Greater Dallas.
In addition to his vocation in the field of medicine, he led a full and rewarding life. He traveled extensively and enjoyed art, music, food and wine. His knowledge and appreciation of wine led to his distinction in that field, and while his most cherished achievement was his graduation from the German Wine Academy, he is best remembered for the wine courses he taught and through the people that attended them who remained dear to him in friendship.
He was preceded in death by his father, Myron David Jacoby, his mother Esther Ellen Jacoby and his wife Carol Jacoby, whom he married on December 23, 1963. He is survived by his son, David Jacoby, daughter Amy Turner, their respective spouses, Janet Jacoby and Tom Turner, and his dog Dede.
He wishes to thank all of his friends and associates for helping him lead a full and satisfying life.
A celebration of his life was held on Sunday, November 23, 2014 at 4:00 pm at Maggiano's Little Italy in NorthPark Center. A short program, which included a slide show presentation was followed by a buffet dinner. This presentation and more may be found in the Video section of the Gallery page on this website.
In lieu of flowers, he asked that donations be made to the SPCA of Texas, or alternately in support of a worthy cause of one’s choosing. He gave generously of himself, and his memory remains alive in the spirit of charity.
Tributes
Leave a tributeI didn't know your dad, David,however, Janet shared some wonderful things about him that brought a smile to my face. David my prayers and thoughts as you heal for the loss of your dad.
As everyone has said, he was an awesome man.
He lived his life to the fullest and never had any regrets.
If i can live my life to that extent that I believe I will have made him proud of me.
But as I said it is very hard for me to express my thoughts and feelings in words as there are not enough words in this world to say my thoughts and feelings and the love I felt for Daddy.
May he rest in peace in that big wine cellar in the sky!
to me, he was at his best when forced to improvise. Such as in 1982, when
we were driving through Galway, Ireland and the car overheated. He
improvised alright, sending me and Amy... sorry, Dad... sending Amy and
I... or rather... sending us back and forth into a peat bog with a Coke
can to get water for the radiator, which Mom then filled with a makeshift
funnel carved from a milk jug.
Because of his knack for detail, I know he would appreciate a carefully
prepared and rehearsed eulogy, and I have put considerable thought into
what I would say. But thoughts change, and so have I, and for that matter,
so has he, therefore some degree of freedom is needed to aptly convey
that. And besides, meaningful interactions are best nurtured in their
spontaneity. So I'll compromise and follow my notes, while at the same
time attempting to speak from the same heart from which these words arise.
Dad was not without his faults; none of us are. And when Mom died nearly
10 years ago, much of his strength died with her. Their relationship was
as symbiotic and complementary as any that history is ever likely to have
witnessed, with him being the forge and her the anvil. I had previously
perceived his lack of abundant force of will as weakness in him, however,
his misplaced trust in people not deserving of that trust and uncanny
ability to forgive rascals for acting the part was actually indicative of
their frailty, not his. Moreover, he was a gentleman decades if not
centuries removed from a time in which honorable associations with one's
peers were the rule as opposed to the exception, and it is the
deterioration of the civil society which is entirely to blame for that.
Later in life as he became more dependent on others, he was seduced by the
false notion that the ends justify the means, and that became the
underlying source of much disagreement between us. The rest of humanity
should be so lucky to count something so relatively benign as a matter of
philosophical opinion among our greatest failings.
There is no doubt that Dad was a great man in that he accomplished much in
life, yet found time all along to give of himself to many people from many
backgrounds. Some of this came at the expense of his own family, and he
had some regrets in that regard, but his cause was noble and the legions
of his patients, their parents and now their offspring are a little bit
better for the experience. He would frequently stay up late at night
giving guidance to the parents of an ill child, and be up at the crack of
dawn the following day to make the rounds at area hospitals. By the time
Amy and I were 10 years old, we were completely qualified to teach
pediatric residency classes on sponge bathing a toddler to reduce a fever.
And he would always spend additional time cheering up those kids - his
Donald Duck imitation was legendary, and he invariably went the extra mile
in reassuring the parents and keeping them informed. He scheduled fewer
appointments in a given day than he otherwise might have in order to
ensure that each patient received the full "Dr. Jacoby treatment".
Dad put forth the same effort in cultivating all relationships, be it with
family, friends, neighbors, colleagues or strangers. The stories he would
tell, even after several airings, never lost their luster... ok, some may
have lost just a little bit to those around him enough to hear them so
many times we could recite them verbatim, but these were all threads in
the tapestry of his being that he so capably wove. Mom used to say that he
could carry on a conversation with a fence post and learn something from
it. Never mind that the fence post stood to learn far more from him. This
quality endeared him to just about everyone he came in contact with, and
probably a few fence posts as well.
Unfortunately, I caused more consternation for my parents than any joy I
might have brought them. To be frank, I had to take the circuitous route
to reach an objective, because the direct route was just too simple. I
believe that's why I gravitated toward an understanding of nature, because
such an endeavor requires an appreciation of nature's intricacies as well
as common sense: two attributes that were always in short supply with me.
Growing up, the closest my father and I ever became was on June 6, 1978 in
Dartmoor, Devonshire, England, when through some gross oversight on his
part, he had left the schedule open in the afternoon. So we took a stroll
down a trail following the river Teign below Prestonbury Castle, and we
were father and son for one of the few times in my childhood, enjoying the
simple things, such as water running across the rocks and wild grasses
swaying in the breeze. But more than that, we enjoyed each other's
company. Thankfully, Dad had me keep a diary of that vacation, and this is
not the first time I've referred to it for details, although the feeling I
had that day is still fresh in my mind.
That walk alongside the Teign was the happiest time of my life up to that
point and it had to have been gratifying to him as well, because later we
would reminisce extensively about it. Some 24 hours later, however, we
crossed a "clapper" bridge in Postbridge, and he became infuriated at me
for being improper by referring to it by a term analogous to a common
water closet. When Amy and then Mom joined in the fun, he was cornered and
was none too happy about it either. A lot of good will was undone because
of that "crapper" bridge.
It wasn't until the end of Dad's time on this Earth that he and I saw
eye-to-eye on a number of things, such as that what matters to me far more
than "what" I am is "who" I am, that I will always be indebted to him for
the upbringing he made possible and that my loyalty to him is unwavering.
In keeping with the Fifth Commandment, I strive to honor him and Mom, not
with great works like those in abundance throughout his resume, but in the
embodiment of attributes such as decency, sincerity, generosity and
reliability that they taught me. To that end, I felt I had no choice but
to attempt to place him into an environment where his dignity might be
restored, if only temporarily. I was concerned that if he ever got his
wits back about him that he would take umbrage at my intervening in his
affairs, but reality was quite the opposite. He did recover enough to
become fully aware of his situation and was comforted in knowing that I
would go to such lengths to ensure that he received the best care
possible. He confided that he had been wrong about me, and had misjudged
me, and, in turn, I confessed that I had been wrong about him in many,
many ways. It was precisely that newfound connection between us that
allowed us to become father and son once again, and I am so very grateful
for that opportunity.
Many years ago, at a Sabbath service I attended, the Rabbi sermonized
about the legacy of Judaism, advising that being among the "chosen people"
was not a privilege but rather a responsibility, and therefore our part in
the Convenant requires our constant vigilance. As Jews, we are tasked with
living our lives in an exemplary manner, that others might observe, and
should they see fit to judge our best qualities as imitable, that they may
seek the same well from which these qualities spring. Commonly, this
endeavor is understood to occur through the three vehicles of repentance,
prayer and charity, but these terms do not adequately describe the
concepts of teshuvah, tefilla and tzedakah. In particular, the Hebrew term
tzedakah implies righteousness, and therefore charity is to be understood
as a means to an end, not as some act of kindness undertaken for its own
sake. Dad was in many ways the personification of this principle because
not only was it his obligation as a doctor, parent, friend or neighbor to
be kind, generous and always respectful, but because it was ingrained in
him at the most profound level of his being. He gave. It was his greatest
virtue and I pray that G-d would find room in His heart to sanctify the
soul of a man whose worldly deeds would earn him such esteem in our eyes
and whose graciousness enriched the lives of all who knew him.
Dr. Jacoby was my three sons' much loved pediatrician between 1972 to probably the mid 90's . He guided us through all kinds of trauma and ailments. After all these years, we still talk about him and affectionately recall the Dr. Jacoby "isms". So attached were my children to him that he had to call me to advise that my oldest was now, "out of diapers", and ought to move on at 18 years old! It was a pleasure to know such an intelligent, kind and thoughtful human being, and I am so grateful for the way he cared for my boys. What joy there must be in heaven now to welcome him home.
Sincerely, Diana Finn (Costanzo)
A "short" visit lasted for hours & there was always more left to discuss...
Sadly, I am out of the country & will not be able to join the celebration of Uncle Dean's life on Sunday. I will pay tribute & lift a glass of wine to toast him with you. But my real tribute will be to try to mimic his exceptional kindness in my everyday life.
He will be missed, he will be remembered. He is loved.
BE NOW FOREVER BE TAKEN FOREVER FROM MY SIGHT:
THOUGH NOTHING CAN BRING BACK THE HOUR:
OF SPLENDOR IN THE FIOWER:
WE WILL GRIEVE NOT...BUT RATHER FIND STRENGTH IN WHAT REMAINS BEHIND. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. FROM SHERYL MILLER
The Lord make His face to shine upon thee,
and be gracious unto thee;
The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee,
and give thee peace.
Leave a Tribute
Please be patient.
Please be patient.
I WAS HIS OLDEST PATIENT
WHEN I WAS A FLT. ATT. IN MY EARLY 20'S I WENT TO DR. JACOBY WHEN I WAS ILL AND HE WROTE MY EXCUSES TO TAKE BACK TO THE AIRLINES.
I ATTENDED HIS WINE CLASSES IN HIS HOME, AND I SWEAR AT THE END OF THE EVENING WE ALL LEFT DRUNK.
My Boys - Their Favorite Doctor
Dear David and Amy,
I know you will miss him dearly.
Dr. Dean Jacoby became our "one-and-only" pediatrician in 1973. We had arrived from England in '72, went to another doctor first but couldn't wait to sign on with Dr. Jacoby after all the wonderful accolades we had heard about him. We were never disappointed.
Dr. Jacoby cared for my three boys from then until, oh gosh, it had to have been the mid 90's. Dr. Jacoby ultimately had to call me to usher my oldest on to a, "grown-ups' " physician, since as he explained to me my senior soon-to-go-to-college son was now well out of diapers! It was one of those bitter sweet times in life when you have to move on, but you really don't want to. Their Dad had unexpectedly died in '84, and so I know he was particularly watchful of them as they turned from little boys into adolescents.
There are some people in your life that you will never ever forget. That says it all for Dr. Jacoby. Not only that, you think of them often as everything in your children's past and sometimes the present and future is in some way connected. I loved not only the way he cared for them, but his philosophies about how children should be raised. "Don't let them become "allergy" cripples; not all kids want to play team sports; they don't all have to follow the herd; they have their own lead; don't worry, they will survive; let them go, they will come back!"
Dr. Jacoby has touched so many lives and will continue to do so as he is remembered affectionately and quoted often. God Bless him as he moves on to that place somewhere in the sky where they have been waiting for this brilliant, kind and dedicated human being. He will be missed but never forgotten.
Thank you for sharing your Dad with us,
Sincerely and with love,
Diana Finn (Costanzo)