A Son's Legacy: Building a Lifeline for Thousands

"We've been privileged to be partners in saving the lives of 3,765 Jewish people," says David Sachik, repeating the numbers with great emotion. "Thanks to the bone marrow registry we established, 3,765 lives have been saved." His voice is filled with emotion and satisfaction. The registry, considered the largest international Jewish bone marrow bank, currently has 1,480,210 samples, including 611,957 from new army recruits who contributed samples on their first day of service. "But to be precise," David emphasizes, "not all of this was because of us—it was thanks to our son Moshe." Fighting for Life It's been about 23 years since David and his wife Miriam received the devastating news about their son's severe illness. "It was precisely on the day of Yitzhak Rabin's assassination," David recalls. "While the nation was grieving the loss of the Prime Minister, we, my wife and I, were called to the doctor at Emek Medical Center. After a long period during which Moshe, our 13-and-a-half-year-old son, hadn't been feeling well and doctors couldn't diagnose the issue, we were finally told he had leukemia, a relatively easier type to treat. The doctor explained that since there is no oncology ward in Afula, we would be referred for treatment at Schneider Hospital in Petah Tikva." How did you feel getting such news? "What can I say? It was as if the sky had fallen. There's no other way to describe it. We explained everything to Moshe that same day, assuring him it was a less severe type of leukemia. We started treatments almost immediately and tried to remain optimistic. However, life changed drastically. With Moshe hospitalized for intense treatments and our frequent trips disrupting the family routine, everything turned upside down. We had four other kids to care for, with the youngest being just two and a half at the time." David describes the chemotherapy treatments as being far more grueling than one can imagine. "After each treatment, Moshe would look like a rag, just utterly drained. The real blow came nine months later when doctors told us the initial treatment hadn’t worked, and we would need to move to a more aggressive plan, hoping it would succeed. "Then," David recalls, "we asked the doctors realistically, 'Assuming this second treatment doesn’t help, what could save Moshe?' Their answer was a bone marrow transplant, provided a suitable donor could be found. Finding this donor would involve a blood test, but we were informed that Hadassah Medical Center, the only place conducting these tests, could perform only 30 compatibility tests a week. Hearing this, David and his family pressed on, beginning the more aggressive treatments for Moshe while battling severe side effects. Moshe even developed a serious bowel disease that left him unable to walk for weeks. David relates this struggle to a passage in the *Gemara* about the severity of bowel diseases, truly recognizing its anguish. "We continued pushing for a bone marrow donation. Family members were tested, but no match emerged. We realized a broader campaign was essential to find a suitable donor. At that time, 30 tests per week were negligible, as we needed to perform hundreds of thousands." David searched globally for solutions and found a lab in North Carolina, USA, capable of processing 3,000 tests weekly. They quickly coordinated a campaign to gather as many samples as possible. The challenge was raising awareness, as public knowledge of bone marrow donations was remarkably low, and the media offered little support. With a single minute granted on a radio segment, David rushed to convey their story. How did you organize the campaign? "A dear friend joined our cause. We decided to spread awareness across the country. I personally traversed from yeshiva to yeshiva, believing students would be enthusiastic about contributing to such a benevolent cause. Every day, I'd leave Afula for Jerusalem, visiting yeshivas like Hebron, Porat Yosef, Ohr Hachaim, and more. They often scheduled my visits during lunchtime to avoid disrupting studies, so I diligently adjusted to these times." They worked closely with the lab, utilizing special test tubes for blood samples. Even though the glassware included an anticoagulant effective for only 24 hours, they managed logistics with Magen David Adom and El Al airlines. El Al generously covered the costs of transporting the 3,000 samples to North Carolina. Tragically, none turned out to be a match for Moshe. In discussing unsuccessful initial efforts, David highlights Moshe's remarkable personality and wisdom. Despite setbacks, another campaign ensued, organized this time by Moshe’s friends from Yeshivat Noam. Driven by friendship and persistence, they argued they would manage most responsibilities, given David’s exhaustion and acceptance of the divine will. Illness Returns After the second campaign, there was a brief reprieve. Although they couldn't forget about the disease, necessary bi-weekly hospital checkups meant constant vigilance. Then came the dreadful discovery during a regular follow-up: the leukemia had returned. On the eve of Tisha B’Av, they learned that Moshe was terminally ill, with hospitalizations lasting until the month of Cheshvan. "During this time," David shares, "I stayed with Moshe non-stop, while my wife managed home and frequent long journeys. Those months, home became a distant memory as my focus was with Moshe." Such was the scenario when a specialist mentioned Moshe was the most critically ill patient in the ward. Though initially a sharp pang of hurt accompanied this realization, David responded calmly ensuring the doctor he was praying and doing his part spiritually. Through trials and bedside vigils, David and Moshe left indelible warmth. On Rosh Hashanah, they gathered hospital staff to hear the shofar, bringing a serene celebration to the clinical setting. Eventually, Moshe’s condition worsened. On the 23rd of Cheshvan, surrounded by familial support and devoted medical staff, Moshe passed. Each staff member shared stories of how Moshe touched their lives, whether through his intelligence, modesty, or determination to study amidst hardship." Commitment to a Global Cause "After Moshe's passing, our lives morphed again," David reflects. "Returning home, I realized there was divine purpose in our journey. With thousands of test results on a disk, I knew they couldn’t go to waste. Initially, cooperation with hospitals was lacking, so I took initiative—formulating plans for a global Jewish bone marrow registry." Partnering with Dr. Bracha Zisser, who had been generously supportive, they envisioned an army-driven program, leveraging numbers for altruistic good. Collaborating with healthcare leaders, they aimed for every Israeli soldier to hear about participating upon enlistment. Since launching the registry with an emotionally resonant ceremony, countless individuals joined the initiative. David often reiterates a verse from *Job* on optimism: "Your beginning may be small, but your future will flourish greatly," believing in their ever-expanding mission. Each year, David hosts Moshe’s *yahrzeit* on the 23rd of Cheshvan, inviting friends to honor his memory and reflect on the registry’s life-saving impact. His heartfelt plea remains: if you haven’t joined the registry, contact Ezer Mizion—it’s achievable until age 55 with just a simple saliva test. After all, this simple act could mean saving a life."