David Dillard, Pioneering Doctor Loved For His Warmth And Artistry

The medical profession remembers him for pioneering surgical technologies that have helped save thousands of lives.

Patients, friends and family remember his quiet demeanor and loving nature. Just about everyone who knew him speaks of his artistic creativity.

Yet one would never have known of Dr. David Dillard's considerable contributions by talking with him.

"He was so humble about his talents. It was just remarkable," said Warren Raymond, a lifelong friend.

Dr. Dillard, retired professor of cardiothoracic surgery at the University of Washington, died Oct. 5 after a long illness. He was 70.

Surgeon, artist, sculptor, family man, he impressed everyone who knew him with his warmth and talent, say friends and colleagues.

During his career of nearly 40 years at the University of Washington, Dr. Dillard was internationally known for three significant contributions to medicine.

With another surgeon, Henry Mohri, now of Japan, he developed a technique that allows surgical repair of heart defects in the tiniest of infants. The doctors found that immersing the babies in ice stopped their hearts and suspended their metabolism long enough to allow the difficult, tedious work.

With Dr. Belding Scribner and Wayne Quinton he helped develop the device, surgically implanted in an artery, that allows kidney patients to receive regular, life-saving dialysis.

And he illustrated the "Atlas of Cardiac Surgery," used by

surgeons and residents worldwide, with more than 700 color paintings and text by Dr. Donald Miller Jr., another Seattle surgeon.

A native of Spokane, Dr. Dillard graduated from Whitman College in Walla Walla and Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine. He did his residency at Hopkins and Harborview Medical Center and served two years as Navy physician at the end of the Korean War. He was chief of the UW Division of cardiac surgery from 1972 to 1978.

Dr. Dillard's career as a leading surgeon took much of his time. But when away from the hospital, he focused on his family, friends and artistic pursuits. Even in a noisy house full of his seven children and their friends, he had a certain, quiet presence.

Often working at his table in the family room, "he was the eye of the storm," his wife, Virginia, said with a laugh. "He always had to be smack in the middle of things, and people would come over and talk to him."

His children could always count on a broken toy being repaired by leaving it on his desk.

His friends knew he would be there for them, no matter how busy he was - for medical advice, for help in solving some problem.

In his spare time, he painted beautiful portraits, sculpted in wood and bronze and made pottery.

His children climbed on the finely detailed horse he sculpted from driftwood. His portraits hang throughout his North End home.

"He was very gifted and it sort of welled up inside of him," Raymond said. "His talents just kept coming out throughout his life."

Raymond said Dr. Dillard's compassion for others grew from his experience as a teenager when he was immobilized for many months with a painful bone condition. His patients saw it in the time he spent with them and, always, with a hand on the forehead and arm.

"That was a David Dillard trademark," said his UW colleague, Dr. Alvin Merendino. "He was loved by his patients."

Besides his wife, Dr. Dillard is survived by four sons, David Jr. of McHenry, Ill., James of Mattawan, N.J., Robert of Portland and Geoffrey of Seattle; three daughters, Kristine and Julia of Seattle and Jennifer, of Oakville, Whidbey Island; two sisters, Helen Jean Cullen of Spokane and Margaret Harr of Northridge, Calif.; and seven grandchildren.

A memorial service was held Saturday, Oct. 9.