Remembering Aron Wahrman, MD, MBA, MHCDS: 1958-2025

ASPS member Aron Wahrman, MD, MBA, MHCDS, passed away Aug. 7 at age 67, leaving a huge hole in the hearts of those who knew and loved him.

"In addition to all his attributes as a physician and surgeon, the most important aspect of Aron's day-to-day life was his profound sense of history – be it the history of medicine or plastic surgery or any number of subjects," notes L. Scott Levin, MD, chair emeritus of the Department of Orthopaedic Surgery and professor of plastic surgery at Penn Medicine in Philadelphia. "He embraced the past as a reminder of our legacy, our specialty's legacy and the interconnectivity of individuals and periods of time. He epitomized the definition of the lifelong learner."

Born in 1958 and the son of a Holocaust survivor, Aron's deep sense of history and reverence for veterans carried on through his whole life. His Jewish background also contributed to his ability to forge tight connections with colleagues during his lifetime. Aron was the quintessential mensch. He was unfailingly warm, empathetic and supportive. He was always happy to lend an ear or perform a good deed at any opportunity.

"One of our co-residents from Penn, Gary Donath, MD, told me this story," says Steven Buchman, MD, who was an undergrad at Columbia University with Aron, and maintained a friendship with him for more than 40 years. "While at a kiosk in a parking garage after a plastic surgery meeting, Aron noticed a well-known and well-respected older plastic surgeon struggling with a computerized parking meter to pay for his parking. The older plastic surgeon repeatedly attempted – but could not successfully complete – the transaction with his credit card. He was frustrated and baffled by the disobliging, newfangled contraption. To spare him the awkwardness in front of his wife and other surgeons waiting in line, Aron stepped up and asked him for the parking stub. He then swiftly entered the stub and paid the fee with his own credit card. The older plastic surgeon, still holding his credit card, asked what he had been doing wrong – and why Aron paid for his parking. Aron put his arm on his shoulder and said, 'You have done nothing wrong – and you have trained hundreds of excellent plastic surgeons. We all owe you more than you know. Have a good night and drive home safely.' "

The PSF past President R. Barrett Noone, MD, who was also the first executive director and CEO of the American Board of Plastic Surgery, recalls his introduction to a young Aron in 1996 when both traveled to Phoenix for the oral board examination.

"I was an examiner, and we were on the same plane," Dr. Noone says. "He was a young guy about to take his exam and both of us arrived in Phoenix for the first time the exams were given there. He came up to me at the airport and said, 'Would you like to ride in my rental car to the exam site?' This was before GPS and neither of us had been to Phoenix before, so we really didn't know where we were going. Of course, on the ride we didn't talk about the exam – I couldn't be his examiner anyway since he was from my hometown – but we talked of many other things, and we were just having a lovely visit. Time passes and I look in my sideview mirror. I said, 'Aron? I think I see the distant lights of Phoenix in the mirror.' We were somewhere in the desert and had to get directions back, but we made it – and that was the beginning of a long friendship. I was proud when he became an examiner in 2010."

As the divisional head of plastic surgery, Aron was an active clinician and teacher in plastic surgery, hand surgery and advanced wound care. Throughout his career, he maintained a firm dedication to teaching medical students and caring for patients across the Veterans Administration Medical Center, University of Pennsylvania Health System and Tower Health/Chestnut Hill Hospital – as well as in his solo medical research and consulting practice.

After finishing his undergraduate work at Columbia, Aron pursued his MD at Yale University. He then moved to Philadelphia, establishing roots in the city for general surgery residency and fellowship programs at Penn and the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. He would also earn an MBA from Temple University, as well as a Master degree focused on Health Care Delivery Science from the Tuck School at Dartmouth College.

"There were very few topics Aron couldn't cover, and it was always a joy to learn something new in his company – whether about books, medicine, Judaism or simply the world around us," says Michael Baumholtz, MD, who joined the faculty with Aron at Temple University early in his career. "Aron worked tirelessly and taught by example. I always respected him and learned from him. His absence from the plastic surgery community – and from the Philadelphia medical community as a whole – is hard to overstate."

During his career, Aron was elected to the American Association of Plastic Surgeons and served as president of the Robert H. Ivy State Society of Plastic Surgeons in Pennsylvania. Through every stage of his career, he did whatever he could to share his wealth of knowledge with friends and colleagues.

"One of my plastic surgery oral board examiners in 1991 was the legendary Tom Krizek, MD, who was infamous for his unorthodox questions that often seemed irrelevant to the modern practice of plastic surgery," remembers Aron's longtime friend David Low, MD.

"When he presented a case of a bilateral cleft, he asked me what Billroth's contribution to cleft surgery was. I only knew that Billroth had devised two stomach operations. When Dr. Krizek presented a hypothetical case of a musician who had suffered a hand laceration, I asked what instrument he played. Dr. Krizek told me he played the same instrument Billroth played. When I guessed 'lute,' he chuckled and informed me it was a violin – adding that Billroth was an accomplished violinist and a close friend of Brahms, who had composed two string quartets for him.

"I told Aron – the foremost authority on both the history of medicine and of classical music – about what had transpired," Dr. Low continues. "Several days later, he informed me that Billroth was the first to describe fracturing the hamulus to allow the tensor veli palatini muscles to shift medially during a cleft palate repair. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he handed me a CD of the two string quartets Brahms had composed for his friend."

A library of distinction

Those who knew Aron also know his penchant for collecting art and rare historical books. He served on the boards of the Yale School of Medicine Cushing/Whitney Library, the Mutter Museum and the Library Company of Philadelphia. Sadly, I never got to see his library – although he did reassure me that a book I wrote years ago could be found on his shelves and he often recommended the book to his trainees. He was also a frequent contributor to PSN, jumping at the chance to review new plastic surgery texts for his colleagues – and almost everyone who came in touch with Aron has a book story.

"I once mentioned to Aron that I had I had inherited the first two volumes of Cleft Craft: The Evolution of its Surgery by D. Ralph Millard, MD, from Linton Whitaker, MD – but I was lacking the third volume," Dr. Low recalls. "Aron quickly located a copy in Ohio and generously completed the set."

Dr. Levin says such gifts carried on through Aron's final days.

"My grandfather, Leon Felderman, MD, was an otolaryngologist and wrote a book called The Human Voice," Dr. Levin says. "I only have one copy and my cousin has one. Aron went out of his way to find it, buy it and put it in his library. I visited him 10 days before he passed away, and he told me, 'I have something for you.' I asked what and he told me he had a copy of my grandfather's book that he wanted to give me as a gift. This is the kind of person he was – always thinking about others right until the very end."

When Dr. Noone published his book, From Trenches To Transplants: Changing Lives with Plastic Surgery, in 2022, he says Aron was not only a useful resource but a steadfast supporter of the project.

"I delivered a talk at the College of Physicians in Philadelphia, which is the oldest group of physicians in the country – you can only become a member by invitation," Dr. Noone notes.

"Of course, Aron was a member, but he had a commitment that night. He apologized to me ahead of time for the scheduling conflict – and then when I began my book signing after the talk, I looked up and the first person in line to get his book signed was Aron."

Aron is survived by his wife, Peggy; his children, Rebecca, Allison, Abe, Louis, Kyra and Hope; and his grandson, Ezra. In his memory, the family requests that donations be directed to the Wounded Warrior Project to honor Aron's tireless devotion to serving our veterans.

"His connection to the past permeated his relationships," Dr. Buchman says. "He was often the go-to individual for his knowledge and appreciation of the field and its documented record. But it was his loyal and personal devotion to his friends, family and patients that defined him. Seeing him at a meeting or an event meant a warm, welcoming smile, an embrace and an ironic anecdote. His friendship provided me and others a touchstone and grounding that was steeped in respect, devotion and love."

Aron was a dear friend who I looked forward to seeing at meetings every year. His absence at those events and in each of our lives will be felt for years to come.