Years ago there was an article in every issue of Reader’s Digest entitled “My Most Unforgettable Character.” It was, as the name implied, written about someone who had made a lasting impression on the author. Sometimes it was an encounter with a famous person; others were about ordinary people who had been extraordinary in some unexpected way. They all were memorable.
Recently, in a fit of retrospection, I have reviewed my own experience with people whom I have met over the decades and the effect they have had on my life. It has been an interesting exercise and given me pause as to why I haven’t thought much about this until now.
In some cases it takes a while to understand the true dimension and depth of a person; too often, judgments are made without significant data to support the conclusion. It takes a willingness on the part of the observer to be accurate in assessing the contribution of an individual. Fortunately, the tempering of time by aging lessens the likelihood of hasty evaluations which brings me to my subject.
When I first met Harold B. Haley, MD in the 1970s he was being interviewed for the position of Associate Dean of the University of Virginia School of Medicine and his assignment was developing of the medical education program of what was then Roanoke Memorial Hospital. As a young practitioner, I was asked to meet him. That’s when the “unforgettable” part came into play.
Diminutive in stature it became obvious in the first minute that he was a physician of wide-ranging interests and information that towered over his physical size. He wasn’t being interviewed by me; that was immediately obvious. Nor was he sizing me up as a potential colleague. His hands behind his back, he paced up and down the office delivering his thoughts on how medical education, the training of medical students, interns and residents was an ongoing challenge because of the changing face of medicine, society, politics, and life in general, all of which were inextricably bound together in a way that he was finding perplexing, but that he intended to solve.
Having spent a number of years under the aegis of various medical school deans, I considered myself somewhat informed on what such administrators were like. I was soon disabused of that idea. Before the session was through, it was obvious that Dr. Haley was a tornado of talent. His credentials were of the highest order; he got the job and set the tone for what would become the extensive medical education center we have today.
Dr. Haley went on to start several medical schools, become dean of several more, published numerous papers on medical education and cancer surgery, all the while mentally pacing with his hands behind his back looking for new ways to solve old problems.
Over the years he has faced medical challenges that few thought he would survive but he brought the same sense of resolve to his personal issues that he exercised in his professional life and he has overcome seemingly unsurmountable obstacles.
And here is the good part. After all his success and all his tribulations, he and his lovely wife, Margaret, chose to retire to Roanoke where those of us who worked for and with him thought we would have the opportunity to watch him relax.
That hasn’t happened. Now, 92 years old and having just celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary, Harold is still at it. At lunch last week, he brought us a manuscript entitled, “Doctor/Teacher.” It is concerned with what type of men and women medical educators should be seeking to attract. Thoughtful and still on target, he is like the veritable energizer bunny, making the rest of us wish we could have been only as partially productive as he continues to be.
When feeling overwhelmed by issues that are beyond our ability to solve, it is good to remember those in our lives who, like Dr. Haley, are still leading the way with, “Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!”
Hayden Hollingsworth, MD
