Dr. Seth Anderson was infamous for doing rounds late at night; for always having a cup of coffee on hand (and making a pot for everyone whenever one wasn’t available); for frequently ordering obscure labs; for often driving lab techs to bemusement and frustration over his fussiness with how he wanted said labs to be run; and for presenting a curmudgeonly exterior that rapidly gave way to a tender heart of gold and a willingness for lengthy late-night conversations.
I had already known some of these characteristics of my father, but when I posted that he had passed, comments poured out from nurses and co-workers at Goleta Valley Cottage and Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara that further detailed the story of his career, all noting his intimidating presence while declaring their deep love and admiration for him regardless. A common refrain emerged: “Smartest man in the room.”
A notable physician specializing in the field of infectious diseases, with an additional specialty in tropical medicine, Seth Anderson died on July 1 at the age of 85 after a long battle with the blood anemia disorder myelodysplasia.
Born in 1938 in Waco, Texas, Seth Anderson moved around quite a bit through his childhood as a Navy brat, as his father served at multiple locations as a Navy chaplain. He loved both reading and sports, and he gained a deep appreciation for opera after attending a performance with his aunt Phyllis. While he loved and played all sports available to him, his truest love was football, and he attended Pacific Lutheran University, where he lived out his dream of playing college-level football. Seth went on to attend the University of Washington for medical school, where he not only gained a world-class medical education but also became deeply attached to Huskies football. His Huskies were so beloved to him that it will surprise no one who knew him to learn that Seth was wearing a purple Huskies T-shirt on the morning he died.
While in medical school, he enlisted in the Navy, which gave him the opportunity to attend Stanford for a postdoctoral fellowship, where he studied under the renowned Dr. Jack Remington. He gained his subspecialty in tropical medicine during a 14-week stint studying in Thailand, and he eventually served his residency at Imogene Bassett Hospital in Cooperstown, New York. It was while working there that an attractive nurse named Karen Cook caught his eye. They went on to marry and have three children.
Early in their marriage, Seth and Karen spent three blissful years stationed at the naval base in Puerto Rico, eventually moving to Foster City, California. It was when their second child was imminently due that Seth received the call from Navy leadership: He was to head to Bethesda Naval Hospital to develop an infection control unit. For the next few years, the Andersons lived in Potomac, Maryland. In January 1976, Seth was named a Fellow of the Infectious Diseases Society of America, their highest honor. He was only 37 at the time. He maintained this standard of excellence throughout his career, and in 2018 he was named Physician of the Year for Goleta Valley Cottage Hospital.
While he was stationed at Bethesda in the late ’70s, Seth and Karen decided it was time for him to go into private practice and move westward. With two grandparents in San Diego and one in Carpinteria, they landed on Santa Barbara, where Seth practiced medicine for the next 45 years.
What stood out to many who experienced Seth’s care was the extraordinary compassion and diligence he extended. He was known for spending lengthy amounts of time with each patient, often to his own fiscal disadvantage. I will always remember a sunset dinner at the restaurant on Leadbetter Beach, when an older couple came to our table to greet my dad briefly, and I noted tears brimming in the wife’s eyes. When I asked what that was about, my father demurred and simply said the man had been his patient and they were just thanking him for taking care of him. When I pushed further as to what the man had recovered from, the wife’s tears became clear: The man had been within an inch of dying from necrotizing fasciitis (also known colloquially as the “flesh-eating disease”), and my father’s last-minute catch had literally saved this man’s life. This is but one of many stories that could be told of how Seth’s intervention saved a life.
After being forced to slow down due to heart surgery in 2018, followed by advancement of his myelodysplasia, Seth reluctantly retired from his practice in April of this year, at the age of 84. Following his retirement party held in May at Goleta Valley Cottage Hospital, he sat in wonder and astonishment at both the turnout and the words spoken to him from colleagues. He had always known he was a good doctor. He hadn’t quite realized he was a beloved one.
Seth Anderson is survived by his wife of 57 years, Karen; sons Rick and Scott; daughter Kristin; daughter-in-law Julie; and grandchildren Natalie and Connor. He leaves behind a legacy of deep commitment to the health of Santa Barbara residents, and he will be deeply missed.