Few saw warning signs in case of Hopkins doctor accused of secretly taping patients

Fanya O'Donoghue had just learned she was pregnant when she happened to meet a group of nurses at a social gathering. She was looking for an obstetrician, and asked them whom they would recommend.

"All six of them said, 'Dr. [Nikita] Levy,'" she recalled.

Even now, after allegations that Levy photographed patients during exams, followed by the doctor's apparent suicide last Monday, O'Donoghue can't bring herself to believe those nurses steered her wrong.

For her, Levy is still the kind, dryly funny doctor who drove through the "snowmageddon" of February 2010 when she went into labor with her firstborn — who shepherded her through her next pregnancy with twins and celebrated their happy deliveries.

"He handed our children to us," said O'Donoghue, 35, who with her husband has three young sons. "I keep thinking this can't be true."

Like others who knew the 54-year-old Levy, O'Donoghue said it was hard to reconcile the warm and caring physician she knew as the same person now alleged to have violated his patients' trust and privacy. While it is not known what kinds of photos and videos Levy took, police say they seized an "extraordinary amount" of evidence from his home 11/2 weeks before he killed himself.

Patients and friends say Levy seemed devoted to his wife, Sandra, a nurse at Hopkins, and their three children. The Jamaican-born New Yorker had moved to Baltimore in 1988, bringing his love of the Yankees with him, and he and his wife were fixtures at their oldest son's baseball games at Friends School in Baltimore, they said.

"Even though they were busy, it seemed they would always make it to his games," said Will Harrington, 26, who graduated from the North Baltimore school in 2005 with Nikita Levy Jr.

"Everybody was pretty shocked by what we read recently. Because everybody in that family is the nicest, most generous," Harrington said. "It just doesn't seem like it is feasible that someone that raised such good kids could do something so fundamentally wrong."

Dr. Levy "was always a super nice guy," Harrington said. "I've had plenty of friends whose parents are doctors or do something in that field. Some kind of come off as standoffish or have that 'I'm better than everyone' mentality. I remember meeting him in high school. He was a nice, normal guy, not ever coming off as better than anyone."

Colleagues at Johns Hopkins Community Physicians, which offers medical care at clinics throughout the state, largely refused to comment last week. Levy was part of a close-knit office at the community physicians' East Baltimore Medical Center at 1000 E. Eager St., and patients said they also saw him at Hopkins' outpatient center on Caroline Street.

Levy often wore a ratty Yankees baseball cap, and arrived at work every day with a lunch packed for him by his wife, recalled Nicole Christian, a nurse who said she worked with Levy from 2000 to 2005.

"We see him as a funny guy, a lifesaver," Christian said. "This is a great loss for us," she said of the community of doctors and nurses who over the years delivered babies together and got together outside work a couple of times a year.

Levy's office at the outpatient center "seemed like a wonderful place to work," said O'Donoghue. "They were a family."

Even as she dreads every phone call now, thinking it could be police telling her she was identified in a photograph by Levy, O'Donoghue remembers how much "respect and friendship" she felt from him.

She sent Levy Christmas cards every year, and remembers taking a picture of him to capture the surprise and joy they felt when, less than a year after her oldest son was born, she learned she was pregnant again — and with twins, a sonogram showed.

"He was a more serious version of Dr. Huxtable, without the bad sweaters," O'Donoghue said of "The Cosby Show" character. "He had the warmth and the humor."

Levy, who became a naturalized citizen some 30 years ago, had lived in Queens and graduated from the Weill Cornell Medical College in Manhattan. He went on to complete his residency at SUNY Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn before joining the Hopkins physician group in Baltimore.

Several medical school classmates, who hadn't seen him since their 1984 graduation, described him with words like "quiet" and "calm."

"He was a caring person who was well-liked by his peers," said Dr. Scott Hayworth of Mount Kisco, N.Y. "He was never inappropriate."