Joshua Levinson

The Specialness of Josh Levinson, Who Died at 45, Was Immeasurable

November 12, 2025, 7:51 PM by Allan Lengel

Josh Levinson
Heroes come in all forms — astronauts and cops, firemen and scientists, doctors and prosecutors, rock stars and ordinary people who are anything but ordinary.

Josh Levinson of Huntington Woods, who died last Friday at age 45, fit the latter — anything but ordinary.

In infancy, he was diagnosed with Williams Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder that delays cognitive development. It also comes with potential cardiovascular problems.

Back Seat

But his disability took a back seat to his joyful persona, his pureness, his childlike curiosity, his humor, his love of music, his love of cars, his love of people, his appetite for socializing and schmoozing. He touched everyone in his orbit in a way so evident at the packed funeral Sunday at Ira Kaufman Chapel in Southfield, where deeply moving eulogies tugged at heartstrings and left few dry eyes.

He taught people patience and humor. And just as importantly, he was an inspiration — a reminder that having a special-needs child or sibling is not a burden but rather a joy, a gift, a lesson in loving, compassion, and giving, far beyond what people think they are capable of.

“Josh defined who I am both personally and professionally," his father, Dr. Marty Levinson, a pediatrician, said during a eulogy at the funeral as he fought back tears. "No person or institution has taught me more in my lifetime.”

“People are always telling me and Elise how Josh was so lucky to have us as parents.They don’t get it. It’s 180 degrees different. We were the lucky ones.”

In the end, Josh contracted Covid, which led to septic shock and organs shutting down, with complication after complication, before the world that loved him could hold on no more.

Josh Levinson was born December 9, 1979 in Indianapolis, where his father was doing his pediatric residency. For Marty and his wife Elise, Josh was the first of four boys. In 1980, the family moved to Huntington Woods.

At 11 months of age, his parents were concerned about developmental delays, and after talking to multiple doctors, they figured out he had Williams Syndrome.

As Rabbi Blair Nosanwisch, who presided over the funeral, tells it, his dad Marty Levinson would write letters and place costly long-distance phone calls across the world to anyone and everyone who had ever studied Williams Syndrome. Josh’s parents were determined to give him every opportunity in life.

Life Undeterred

Josh went through the Berkley public school system, taking special-ed courses. He was beloved but was sometimes the target of bullying and cruel name-calling. The rabbi said his siblings found it painful but always marveled at how Josh “always found his way through these moments of bullying and lived his life undeterred by other people’s smallness.”

At Berkley High School, he was the manager of the cross-country team and proudly earned a letter jacket. He also carried banners as part of the marching band.

He graduated in 1999, capping that achievement with a stroll across the stage at Meadow Brook Hall, accompanied by an enthusiastic standing ovation from his classmates.

After graduation, he attended Jardon Vocational School in Hazel Park until he was 26. Then he started doing volunteer work. He took care of pets at the pet shop at Friendship Circle, a nonprofit that helps people with special needs. And he worked at Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak as a greeter and flower deliverer.

In 2010, at age 30, around the time his parents were thinking of giving him more independence and letting him move out of the house, he had a stroke, losing mobility in his right arm and making it impossible to care for the animals he loved. His speech was not impacted.

“The stroke took away his independence,” said Rabbi Nosanwisch. “It changed his personality. It caused him a period of depression, and it was a very hard time in his life. And remarkably, his parents and the family adapted to the stroke and helped find him a new purpose.”

His mom came up with a business idea, Josh's Noshes (nosh is a Yiddish word for snack or munch). Josh enthusiastically launched the business, pushing a snack cart around Beaumont Hospital, selling to visitors and employees, conversing with them, putting in about 10 miles a day in steps. It was a time of great pride and purpose. In 2013, WXYZ aired a story about Josh and his business.

Then in 2020, Covid hit the world, and cruelly, his business came to a screeching halt.
He eventually began attending the Living and Learning Enrichment Center in Northville.

“To know Josh was to love him, to become a better version of yourself because of him — to find a little more patience, a little more kindness, a little more joy,” said his brother, Gideon Levinson, a physician, in his eulogy.

“He defied every odd — a living miracle whose strength and humor and light carried all of us. Josh, you were sitting shotgun, and we were just along for the ride.”

“He was certainly my greatest teacher, and he was that for everyone lucky enough to be in his orbit…Josh carried unlimited joy like it was weightless, even in struggle. He was the heartbeat of our family, the glue between all of us.”

Devoted Tigers Fan

His brother Noah Levinson described him as one of the most devoted Tigers fans and said he had an intense emotional connection to music, which is typical of people with Williams Syndrome.

“He brought the Barenaked Ladies, Pink Floyd and Tom Petty into our house for the first time. But he also had such a strong love for folk and bluegrass, gospel — every type of pop and rock, show tunes, theater, classical, other world cultures.”

“He was probably the only person under 70 with an online subscription to the Metropolitan Opera.”

Last December, Noah recalled, Josh saw his hero Andrea Bocelli, the Italian tenor, perform at Madison Square Garden. And before the concert, he got to meet him in his dressing room.

His sister-in-law Katy Willens said in her eulogy that “I don’t think I ever once heard Josh complain that anything was not enough, that it wasn’t good enough, or the quantity wasn’t enough — unless it was ice cream, maybe.”

“He found joy in what and who was in front of him, and he embodied gratitude.”

And then she said, in a promise to Josh, to “try and make everyone I meet feel seen the way that you made people feel seen.”

Humorous Moments

Many who encountered Josh have many stories, some very humorous.

During Josh’s bar mitzvah service at age 13 at Adat Shalom Synagogue in Farmington Hills, he told the presiding rabbi, who was “famously strict and formal,” that he needed to hurry up his speech — which made the congregation laugh, Rabbi Nosanwisch said.

“Then Josh said, ‘They’re laughing at you, rabbi.’”

Every year, his father would do a lecture at the medical school at Oakland University with Josh about Williams Syndrome.

Josh would start the talk: “Hi, I’m Josh Levinson. Welcome to Williams Syndrome 101.”

“And then every year on the way home, Josh would turn to Marty and say, ‘Can we do that again next year?’” the rabbi said.

“The amazing thing about how Josh lived without shame and without irony, is that he transformed every moment into a sincere moment," Rabbi Nosanwisch said. "He took regular moments and made them profound. He changed how all of us saw and understood the world. He transformed all of us by being so unabashedly and completely himself.”