He also settled into a golfing community, where, within a few years, he was elected president, even though he didn't play golf, Dorn noted.

Shack's friends said he will be missed at SNM's annual convention, which starts next month in San Antonio, as hundreds of people at the show knew Larry well. He was liked by both vendors and doctors, they said.

"Larry Shack was a remarkable individual who did more than sell equipment to his customers," Dr. Stanley J. Goldsmith, director of nuclear medicine and molecular imaging with New York-Presbyterian Hospital-Weill Cornell Medical Center, said in an e-mail. "He became a part of their efforts and in many ways, a part of their lives. His presence and personality enriched any activity or group with which he was associated and he made everyday experiences more exciting. He will be missed and he will be remembered."

Bogutski said Shack's charm was evident the first time they met, almost 30 years ago.

In 1981, just after opening his own nuclear medicine company with some partners, Bogutski was walking down a hallway in Morristown Memorial Hospital in New Jersey, when he saw a man with a big grin on his face, sauntering in his direction.

They both knew they were in nuclear medicine, and at the same hospital on business, Bogutski said. But the other man immediately disarmed him with what would become known as his tagline.

"Hello, love," the man said, in a British accent. "How are you doing today?"

Shack is survived by his wife Sue Shack; his daughters Stephanie and Stacy Shack; and his siblings Rozzie Asch and Betsy Felsenberg.

The funeral was held Monday morning at Sol Levinson & Bros. Inc. in Pikesville, Md.

Instead of flowers, the family requests contributions in honor of Lawrence Shack to be made to the American Heart Association, the National Kidney Foundation or The Hospice of Palm Beach County.



Back to HCB News

More Voices