
(Photo credit: Philip Altschuler)
Dr. Morton Altschuler often ran late in his Kemp Mill medical office. Patients sometimes waited an hour or more to see him. His oldest daughter, Judy Portney, said the reason was simple: he spent as much time talking with people as he did examining them.
“He wasn’t in any hurry,” she said.
Altschuler, a Washington-area family physician who practiced medicine for more than 60 years and cared for generations of patients, died on Feb. 24 at age 93.
Born and raised in Washington, D.C., Altschuler grew up in a Jewish household. His mother owned a dress shop and his father worked as a carpenter. His brother and sister were more than 15 years older, so he spent much of his childhood surrounded by friends. His older siblings watched out for him.
Altschuler attended George Washington University for undergraduate studies and went on to study medicine at Bowman Gray School of Medicine, now Wake Forest University School of Medicine. Over the years, he remained deeply connected to the medical school, serving on the alumni board and supporting the institution.
He served in the U.S. Public Health Service early in his career. At a stint at Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia, he met Rayna, a nursing student from the Atlantic City area. They married on June 21, 1959, beginning a partnership that lasted more than six decades.
After training, Altschuler returned to the Washington area and established a family practice that became a fixture for many patients.
“He loved taking care of people,” his son Philip Altschuler said. “We would run into people all the time who would say, ‘I love your father. He had an amazing bedside manner.’”
Altschuler treated patients from infancy through old age, and many families stayed with him for decades.
“He treated grandparents, kids and their kids,” said Portney, who managed his front desk for eight years.
In an era before electronic medical records and online portals, Altschuler handled much of the work personally. He made house calls in his early years of practice and regularly visited patients in hospitals and nursing homes. Even after a full day in the office, he often returned to the hospital at night to check on patients.
“He really put his heart and soul into being a doctor,” said Portney, who became a nurse.
His schedule reflected that dedication. The office would typically close in early afternoon, but that break meant trips to the hospital and nursing homes before returning at 3 p.m. for afternoon appointments.
Patients trusted him, his children said, because he listened carefully and took time with them.
“He was a good listener,” Portney said. “He really cared.”
Altschuler also believed medical care should be available to people who needed it, regardless of income. From 1989 to the early 1990s, when many Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union arrived and relied on Medicaid, he accepted large numbers of those patients.
Portney once asked why he took so many of them, knowing the reimbursements were low.
“He said, ‘Because somebody has to,’” she recalled.
Altschuler’s was among the early physicians affiliated with Holy Cross Hospital when it opened in 1963. He also worked with Washington Adventist Hospital, then known as Washington Sanitarium.
Altschuler was active in Jewish life throughout his years in the Washington area. The family belonged to Temple Israel on University Boulevard in Silver Spring, where the Altschuler children, Philip, Judy and Susan, celebrated their bar and bat mitzvahs.
“He was very proud of being Jewish,” Philip Altschuler said.
He was also active in the Jacobi Society of the Greater Washington Area, an association of Jewish physicians.
Outside the office, Altschuler maintained a wide circle of friends and social connections. He enjoyed going out to meals and spending time with others. One of his more unusual hobbies was target shooting and skeet shooting, an interest he shared with his son.
“He loved shooting guns,” Philip Altschuler said. “He taught me how to shoot.”
The family also spent summers at the Jersey Shore. In 1974, Altschuler bought a second home in Ventnor, near Atlantic City, where his wife’s family had roots. The house became a summer gathering place. The family made long road trips together, including cross-country drives and motorhome vacations.
After decades of running his own practice, Altschuler sold it and briefly tried retirement. The adjustment did not last long.
“He was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the stock market all day,” Portney said.
His wife encouraged him to return to work, and he did — joining a walk-in clinic in Rockville. He continued practicing there part-time for about 10 years and sometimes saw patients he had treated for decades.
Even after leaving full-time practice, the connection with his patients endured. Portney, who became a nurse, said physicians she works with still occasionally mention that they treat people who once belonged to her father’s practice.
Altschuler remained committed to his family throughout his life. As his wife developed dementia in later years, he became her primary caregiver in their New Jersey home.
“He would not put her in assisted living,” Portney said. “He said she wasn’t leaving their home.”
His children said he approached family life much as he approached medicine — with patience, humor and advice offered when it was needed.
“He was smart, caring and generous,” Philip Altschuler said. “He always wanted people to be kind to each other.”
For Portney, the loss of her father has been difficult to accept after a lifetime of close connection.
“He’s just a great dad and a great friend,” she said. “Ninety-three years isn’t enough time.”
Ellen Braunstein is a freelance writer.


