Dr. Albert James Mamary noticed things other people passed by.

On a walk, he might stop for a feather, a bird’s nest, a rock, a leaf or a piece of wood. He wanted to know what kind of tree it came from and what made it worth looking at.

“The ordinary is not ordinary when you approach it from a place of joy,” his wife, CeliaSue Mamary, said.

Mamary, known professionally as A. James Mamary, M.D., and as James to friends and family, died on July 9 in Philadelphia of cholangiocarcinoma, a rare and aggressive cancer of the bile ducts. He was 59 and lived in Wynnewood.

Mamary was a Jew by choice, and his wife said Judaism came naturally to him. The values that shaped his Jewish life — doing good, helping others and paying attention to the world around him — also shaped his work as a doctor, teacher, father, husband and neighbor.

He spent nearly his entire medical career at Temple University Hospital and the Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University, where he became an attending physician and professor of thoracic medicine and surgery.

“He believed in the mission to serve and to serve while advancing medical care,” CeliaSue Mamary said.

James Mamary grew up in Vestal, near Binghamton, New York. He was outdoorsy and curious, became an Eagle Scout and later worked as a wilderness guide in Maine for a canoe-based Boy Scout program.

At Haverford College, where he met CeliaSue, he studied liberal arts, psychology and art. He later earned a master’s degree from William & Mary, where he studied archaeology and anthropology.

His wife said those interests all had something in common.

“He had this interest in the human condition,” she said.

Medicine became another way to pursue that interest. He went to medical school at Temple and stayed there for residency, chief residency and fellowship. After his fellowship, he joined the faculty and remained at Temple for more than 25 years.

Mamary was certified in internal medicine, critical care, sleep medicine and pulmonology. He worked in pulmonary and critical care medicine and became known as a doctor who wanted the full picture.

His daughter LilyRuth Mamary said he did not just rule out what was in front of him and move on.

“He was going to solve the puzzle,” she said. “And he was going to make sure that the appropriate next steps were happening.”

For 12 years, Mamary served as program director for Temple’s Pulmonary and Critical Care Fellowship Program. His family said the program grew substantially under his leadership. He also wrote or contributed to more than 60 peer-reviewed articles, book chapters and other scholarly publications.

His family said his influence was often personal. He loved teaching and wanted young doctors to gain confidence. He expected them to keep learning, connect with patients and explain medical problems in a way people could understand.

After Mamary was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma on July 27, 2020, he was initially given a grim prognosis. His family said a complicated surgery performed by Dr. Warren R. Maley at Jefferson gave him additional years.

During those years, he kept working, teaching and seeing patients as much as he could.

“He never stopped being the person who was concerned more about someone else,” CeliaSue said.

Mamary and CeliaSue met at Haverford in 1987. Their first meeting involved a stray kitten. CeliaSue had found one and was looking for someone off campus who could foster it. Mamary had found one, too.

The couple married in 1996, but CeliaSue said they were partners long before then. She described him as a husband who, after nearly 40 years together, still stopped what he was doing and smiled when she walked into a room.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she said.

As a father, Mamary was all in. When his daughters became interested in something, he learned about it, too. If that meant driving long distances, reading or rearranging part of the garage so LilyRuth could juggle with more space, he did it.

“He was the most silly, goofy dad,” LilyRuth said.

That same curiosity filled the family’s home and yard. Mamary baked apple pies, built a 20-foot canoe from mahogany, made maple syrup from sugar maple trees near the family home, gardened, cooked and worked with wood.

He and CeliaSue also helped care for Shortridge Memorial Park, across from their home. They started by pulling invasive plants and freeing trees from vines and weeds. Others joined in, and the work grew into a community effort. Mamary identified and labeled trees, hand-stamping copper tags and created a tree nursery in the park.

CeliaSue said James had grown up with Jewish friends and neighbors, gone to Passover Seders and Chanukah celebrations and later become part of her close Jewish family. Their home life included Shabbat dinners, holidays and a commitment to doing good.

One passage especially spoke to him: the teaching from Micah to do justice, love goodness and walk modestly with God.

“He said, ‘Yeah, I agree with that. I buy into that. That’s me,’” CeliaSue said.

The family also supported causes in Israel, including Nature Israel, also known as the Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel, and Healing Farm, or Hibuk Chai, which provides emotional support and therapy for soldiers and community members in northern Israel near the Lebanon border.

At shiva, one of Mamary’s friends offered a thought that stayed with the family.

“Since we don’t have James with us,” CeliaSue said, “we all should try and be James for someone else.”

Ellen Braunstein is a freelance obituary writer. She welcomes suggestions for individuals who had meaningful ties to the Philadelphia Jewish community. Email csix@midatlanticmedia.com.