Jeri Ward, Executive Director. Operation Walk Los Angeles
It is with profound sadness that we announce the passing of Operation Walk Founder Dr. Lawrence Dorr. There will be many tributes to him over the coming months, but I would like to take a moment at the end of a most difficult year to tell you about Dr. Dorr, “The Man”.
I met him in 1983 when he joined Kerlan-Jobe Orthopedics in Inglewood, CA. I was a new R.N. at Centinela Hospital. His reputation preceded him. It was drilled into us that he was a powerful joint replacement surgeon, and that he was a tough task master. He wanted everything to be just great for his patients. I heard him before I saw him. His booming laugh echoed the halls as he exited the elevator and walked onto the ward with Dr. Clarence Shields. He came around and met all the nurses and Physical Therapists, giving us ideas on what his vision was for developing a joint replacement program.
Somehow, I was selected to develop and pre-operative class for patients getting hip or knee replacement. In those days, patients were admitted the night before surgery. Twice a week, I would work late so I could give the class at 7 pm. Little did I know that it would be the start of 34 years working with a brilliant pioneer, a humanitarian and a man who would help me become my best self.
Over the years medicine became more of a business. Politics at hospitals pushed him to move locations several times, but always for the betterment of the patients and his team. The team developed like a snowball – the more we moved forward the bigger we got. You did not have to be around him long to know that he was tough, but always for the support of his patients. Yes, he cold be harsh… but always because something needed to be better for those he operated on. If you wanted to be part of his team, you took it as a constructive criticism and moved on. He never minced words. He would challenge you. He expected each team member to know their stuff and apply it to provide excellent patient care.
As Dr. Dorr’s practice moved around Los Angeles, the team he created would follow him. I often get credit for everything I was doing, but I only got things done because such awesome medical professionals came into this orbit and stuck with him. He let us practice medicine the way it was meant to be, personal, hands on, supportive and innovative. As he developed new and cutting-edge practices, such as getting people out of bed hours after surgery, or going home the same day, it was my job to convince the team that these new ways of treating patients would work for the better. First, I had to convince myself! He was never wrong… and I always believed in him as he found better ways to recover patients.
He was a family man. He knew his team had families, and family came first. He supported me through the deaths of my parents, my sister and Uncle Jim. I was juggling hospital work, Operation Walk, and family, and he always let me know how much he appreciated it. He was devoted to his wife Marilyn and children Mike, Randy and Kristi, his daughter in law Tiffany, and his grandson Hunter.
Work life went on over the years. He pioneered so many things. Just when I thought he was at the pinnacle of his career, he would come up with something new: community talks, home visits, seminars, Master’s Series, newsletters, Operation Walk, writing books (from textbooks to fiction), computers, virtual reality and robotics. He jumped into new technology fearlessly.
He was a mentor and a teacher. I was lucky to know over 30 years of his research and clinical Fellows. They were like his sons. Again, he was a tough task master, but all of them have said he made them a better surgeon. He cared about all of them and their families too.
When he developed Operation Walk, he had great trust in me to organize and bring his dream to fruition. At first, I was terrified. I had not traveled much in my lifetime, but I never wanted to disappoint him. So I got my first passport and jumped into what would become the most rewarding experience of my life. When I saw how much the joint replacement we took for granted in the USA could change the lives of people in other countries, I knew that we had to grow Operation Walk to help as many people as possible. And that was the beauty of working with Dr. Dorr. If you spread your wings, he would let you fly. Operation Walk is his legacy.
He trusted me to do everything from fundraising to organizing symposiums that drew hundreds of people. I was always joking that if he fired me, I would become a wedding planner! Every new challenge he threw at me was an adventure.
The thing we had most in common was our love for our patients and our team. People are important. He instilled that in me. We never treated people as numbers. We stood by those who had struggles. We were always available by phone or email.
Today I feel like Robin without Batman. Tonto without the Lone Ranger, trying to be strong for the many people that loved him. Dr. Dorr, you are gone too son, leaving us with a hole in our hearts that can’t be filled. There will never be another man like you, an old-school doctor, a kind man and a visionary in the field of medicine.