The peace, comfort, and dignity provided by Evelyn’s House to Rachel Goldberg and her loved ones inspired her family to make a special gift through the Foundation to keep Rachel’s memory alive and ensure that families can spend more meaningful moments together during end-of-life care.
Rachel Goldberg lived. She loved, she learned and debated, she traveled, she sang and danced, she hugged, she laughed, and she followed her faith. She had a loving family in St. Louis and friends around the world. Her 36 years of life were full of passion and adventure.
“She had a larger-than-life personality,” Rachel’s mother, Linda Dembo, says. “She was loud and boisterous and had an amazing laugh. And she was tough. She stood her ground, but there was something magnetic about her. People were attracted to her because of her personality. She was just charming, as tough as she was.”
Beauty in Strength
Rachel was particularly tough spiritually. During high school, she embraced public speaking as the president of the area BBYO, a Jewish youth organization. At only 16 years old, Rachel traveled to Israel by herself—she loved it so much that she returned five more times.
“Those were her passions: Israel, being Jewish, and being a leader,” Linda says.
Rachel also faced loss with her characteristic toughness. She spent a summer in Israel after her high school graduation to heal from her parents’ divorce. Then, during her freshman year of college, Rachel grieved the passing of her 13-year-old brother, Jonathan.
“There was a real beauty in Rachel’s strength. But it was her shield from all these things going on,” says Phil Dembo, Rachel’s stepfather. “She was a very principled person. She wasn’t tough just to be tough. She was tough to be principled.”
Trying on Life
Rachel’s faith and principles called her back to Israel, where she studied in a seminary before returning to St. Louis to teach in a private Orthodox Jewish school. Then, for an entirely different kind of adventure, she moved to Los Angeles.
“Rachel just tried on life,” Phil says. “She tried many different things. She wasn’t going to let anything stop her from trying on life or whatever was in front of her.”
It wasn’t long before more of the family followed her. Linda and Phil, who Rachel nicknamed “Phlinda,” temporarily moved to LA, as did Phil’s son, Justin.
“In that LA era, we made a lot of memories,” Phil says.
One of their favorite places to dine was Craig’s, a celebrity hot spot. There, the family sat among stars like Jeff Goldblum and John Mayer. Once, Rachel accidentally photobombed a Daily Mail paparazzi shot of Game of Thrones star Sophie Turner. Then, her family almost left her behind as she looked for Sophie’s then-husband, Joe Jonas. 
Rachel even celebrated her birthday at Craig’s. But she gave her family strict orders: “I don’t want anybody singing ‘Happy Birthday.’ I don’t want to be embarrassed.” However, Adam Levine of Maroon 5 overheard her objections and told her, “When it’s your birthday, we sing ‘Happy Birthday.’” Then, the pop star serenaded her.
“She was a pop culture junkie. She dragged me to everything, but I went willingly because we always had so much fun together,” says Linda, who went with Rachel to the filmings of shows like Judge Judy, Fashion Police, and Watch What Happens Live with Andy Cohen.
After “Phlinda” moved back to St. Louis, Rachel kept living her best Hollywood life. She started a career at the Shalom Institute in Malibu, leading fundraising efforts to help the Jewish organization rebuild after the wildfires.
Never Take One Day for Granted
In May 2023, however, Rachel began to feel so unwell after working an outdoor event that she went to the emergency room. Although she was treated for mastitis and discharged, a follow-up mammogram and biopsy revealed that she had stage 4 triple-negative inflammatory breast cancer, a rare and aggressive cancer that often gets misdiagnosed. She was only 34 years old. (Learn the symptoms of inflammatory breast cancer.)
Everything after that was a whirlwind. Rachel, who was in significant pain, started chemotherapy in LA while her family worked to bring her home to St. Louis. Phil found her a place to live near them. Linda packed her apartment and flew home with Rachel and her dog.
In St. Louis, Rachel continued chemotherapy with Cynthia Ma, MD, PhD, a WashU Medicine oncologist at Siteman Cancer Center.
Despite her pain and the unfairness of the situation, Rachel continued living and having fun. “I would turn on the radio, and she would sing at the top of her lungs,” Linda remembers. “She’s got cancer, no hair, sick as a dog, and we’re singing the Jardiance commercial song. She was very witty, and she found the most ridiculous things hilarious.”
Rachel turned 35 that August, a few months after her diagnosis. Linda and Phil hosted a rooftop birthday party at their condo, and Rachel celebrated with family and friends from around the world, many of whom flew in for the occasion.
Rachel struggled with what to tell her friends about her diagnosis. “She didn’t want to broadcast it,” Linda says. “She wouldn’t wear a pink shirt. She wouldn’t wear a hat that said, ‘Fighter.’ She would say, ‘Mom, if one more person calls me a warrior, I’m going to chop their head off!’ She didn’t want to talk about it.”
But Rachel made one Instagram post after her birthday to explain her situation, share gratitude, and encourage her loved ones to take care of themselves. “This certainly wasn’t how I envisioned my 35th year of life, but I’m grateful for my life and never take one day for granted,” Rachel wrote. “If I can ask anything of my friends and family, it’s to take care of your health, go to the doctor regularly, and if you feel something, say something.”
Most of all, Rachel was concerned for her mom and her dog, a Shi-Poo named Sasha Fierce Ruth Bader Ginsburg Goldberg in honor of Beyoncé’s alter-ego and the Supreme Court justice. She made sure that Linda would care for Sasha.
“She knew she was going to die from the beginning, but she demanded to do everything she could. She wouldn’t let the rabbi talk to her about dying. Instead, she talked about how he’s going to help Linda survive,” Phil says. “Courage is when you’re afraid, but you do it anyway, and that was Rachel. She was afraid of so many things, but nobody would know that. That’s what we mean by her being tough.” 
Although Rachel’s pain kept increasing, she continued laughing and joking with her loved ones. She lived so close to Linda and Phil that they spent every night together. Other family visited often, including Rachel’s grandmother Etele, whom she called “Nan,” and her uncle, Michael Kohn, whom she called “Mikey.” Linda fondly remembers Rachel and Nan holding hands on the couch. Even Rachel’s stepsister, Lizzy, flew in from Florida to visit.
After 16 months of chemo and hospitals, hair loss and wigs, and pain and prescriptions, three of Rachel’s “besties” flew in from New York, Chicago, and Austin to say goodbye. Despite her uncontrollable pain, they spent a day together, telling stories and reliving memories, talking about life instead of death. After her friends left, Rachel was ready to go to Evelyn’s House.
Making Every Moment Count
Evelyn’s House, BJC’s hospice house, helped ensure every moment with Rachel counted. Its compassionate, interdisciplinary staff provided personalized end-of-life care for her and her loved ones.
For Rachel, personalized care meant helping manage her pain while not interrupting her time with her loved ones.
“She didn’t want anything that resembled her being a patient,” Phil says. “The staff does a great job of diagnosing the dynamics, and then they adjust accordingly. That gave us space. They came in quietly, did what they needed to do, and left quietly. They didn’t interrupt any of the things that we were doing.”
For Linda, personalized care was the gift of respite, allowing her to spend time with her daughter without the fear and daily challenges of being her primary caregiver. It meant not worrying about administering prescriptions. It meant a feeling of peace.
“I could breathe a bit. She was being taken care of as well as I could take care of her,” Linda says. “I do admit I smooshed her face and kissed her a lot. Zero regrets. Whether she liked it or not, her face was getting smooshed.”
And, of course, Rachel did not like it. “She said something hilarious to me,” Linda laughs. “Like, ‘Mommy, your face is in the way!’”
Despite Rachel’s relentless sense of humor, managing her pain was challenging because the cancer had spread so aggressively. Patrick White, MD, PhD, chief medical officer for BJC Hospice who leads the care team at Evelyn’s House, visited her each day. On Rachel’s first night at Evelyn’s House, Linda realized they’d forgotten to pack Rachel’s heating pad, which she used to ease the pain of the tumor under her arm. Dr. White left and returned 10 minutes later.
“He had run to Walgreens and bought two different types of heating pads for her,” Linda says. “What kind of doctor does that? He’s amazing.”
Rachel and her family spent a week together at Evelyn’s House. Although it was unusual for them all to be together, Linda and Phil cared for Rachel alongside Rachel’s father and stepmother, Rick and Stacy Goldberg, with Linda and Rick taking turns spending the night.
Other loved ones visited too. Linda practically kicked out Uncle Mikey so that he could get some rest. Rachel’s half-sister, Maddie, flew in from Texas, and her brother, Adam, also said goodbye to her at Evelyn’s House. Rachel was never alone and was always surrounded by love.
“It’s dignified,” Linda says of the feeling at Evelyn’s House. “We took her in a wheelchair around the gardens. It wasn’t us just sitting there watching her die. It was being with her and experiencing our relationship, even knowing what was ahead, and taking that time to just take a walk outside. She loved that.”
Rachel passed on Monday, Sept. 30, 2024, just two days before the Jewish high holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
“I think she waited until she couldn’t wait any longer,” Linda says.
“She didn’t leave,” Phil adds. “The angels came and got her—her brother, her grandfather. With her last breath, the room lit up. You felt everything you read about. You just felt that energy. She said all along that she’s not leaving, but they came and got her.”
To have her funeral before the high holidays, Rachel’s family accomplished the nearly impossible task of arranging it for the day after she passed. Even with such short notice, more than 300 loved ones attended in-person, and another 250 attended online.
A Special Place
Linda and Phil were so grateful for the care Rachel—and her loved ones— received in room 14 of Evelyn’s House that they decided to dedicate the room in Rachel’s memory through The Foundation for Barnes-Jewish Hospital. Their gift ensures that more families can have the same compassionate experience during their own difficult moments.
“A lot of research goes into the colors, rooms, and layout, but for us, it was the nurses, the people, and Dr. White,” Phil explains. “It was a private experience that was allowed to be private. We didn’t feel like we were in a hospital, but we didn’t feel like we were at home. We felt like we were ending a life. It’s hard to describe. How you die is important.
Rachel lived at Evelyn’s House. We all lived a lifetime in that week. That process was healing for us as a collective group. There was a real closure for her.”
On May 4, 2025, a small group of Rachel’s loved ones gathered once again at Evelyn’s House to celebrate her life for the dedication of “Rachel’s Room.”
In his remarks, Phil said, “Evelyn’s House, this unique and special place, truly invisible to the casual drive-by community, is more than a place to die with dignity. It’s more than a group of dedicated professionals working to ease the suffering and assist in the dignity of death. The week prior to and the morning of September 30, we learned the importance of this healing cocoon for Rachel, for Linda, and for our whole family. This building is forever named for Evelyn Newman, and room 14 will now forever be called Rachel’s Room. This space is the cocoon … Rachel’s Room, room 14, where her angels came and her butterfly took flight.”
A plaque under the room number honors Rachel’s memory with love from Linda and Phil, Uncle Mikey, and Nan.
“It is such a special place,” Linda says. “Rachel’s name will be forever there. Whether people notice the plaque or not, she was there. That was Rachel’s room.”
Written by Maren Leonard Libonn
Photography by Gara Elizabeth Lacy, with additional photographs provided by Linda Dembo