Letter to a Great Luxembourg Scientist, Dr Félicien M. Steichen, MD, 1927-2011

Dear Félicien:

You left us, but I won’t write an obituary. You would have said it yourself, with that twinkle in your eyes: “this ain’t a place for obituaries.”

We met 22 years ago when I moved with my family into your neighborhood in Larchmont, New York. You lived there on 12 Pryer Lane with your wife Michèle, your daughters Anne and Claire and your son François, in your beautiful home overlooking Long Island Sound. The old BMW in your driveway, with that big letter “L” on the bumper, let everyone know that there was a true Luxembourger around. I knew you already as a “Living National Monument”, for your incredible contributions to medical science. I came to learn more about your tireless work, developing laparoscopic surgery.

Your neighbor, a surgeon himself, would say how guilty he felt playing with his dogs while he knew that you were working on yet another paper. I can still see you there, the lamp glowing on top of that cypress table crafted by an Amish cabinetmaker.  In this office, your creative genius would produce dozens of scientific papers, to promote minimally invasive thoracic and abdominal surgery. They cover the challenges of sutures and stapling, the introduction of 3D in laparoscopic surgery together with new tools known as “Tools of Steichen”.

For more than 48 years, after graduating from the University of Lausanne, you left giant footprints at many places such as Baltimore and Johns Hopkins Hospitals, Lenox, and Saint Agnes. The crowning of your tremendous work and the worldwide recognition as the great pioneer and professor was the creation of the Félicien M. Steichen Chair of Surgery at New York Medical College in 1993, of which you became the first holder. Among your many awards, this is the ultimate one. We all remember you as the discreet gentleman, who would be first in line to do anything “Luxembourg”. We had such fun launching the Luxembourg-American Chamber of Commerce in New York. I am most thankful for your ever open doors. One day I needed your help as a surgeon. I’m still wearing (proudly) the three tiny marks of laparoscopic incisions you made. And for sure the following morning I left Saint Agnes all repaired. My wife and I mostly remember the days of deep distress, when you showed up at our son’s hospital bed. Your spontaneous travel to that place, your appearance in that hospital room has done more than all medical science on earth. Dear Félicien: You are a great benefactor to mankind. Every morning, thousands of patients get readied for surgery somewhere. Many will have an amazing recovery, thanks to your pioneering work. They’ll say of their doctors what one of your friends told me about you: “He saved my life!” At the LACC, you have touched ours. We send our most heartfelt condolences to your family, Egide Thein.