Dr. Donald Peter Dallas

Dr. Donald Peter Dallas lived an amazing life. The son of immigrants from Scotland and Germany, he always aimed high. He attended public schools in Queens, NY, was the first in his family to go to high school, and then went on to Columbia College (class of 1950), where he was, in his words, a "subway scholar," since he couldn't afford to live on campus. He went on to Columbia's prestigious Physicians & Surgeons medical school (class of 1954) (now named after his best friend from first year of med school, with whom he shared a cadaver). As a first-year med student, he married his middle school sweetheart and love of his life, Dottie Benz, eventually opened a successful practice as a cardiologist on Park Avenue, had four children, and at 34, bought a house in suburbia. He was the epitome of the American dream.

In his last months he would often comment on how lucky he felt he had been his whole life. When asked why, he would say "Because I got to do everything I ever wanted to do." And by that he meant being a doctor, and being married to Dottie.

He started his career serving his country in the U.S. Public Health Service, with stints as the ship's physician on the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Spencer and as the summer doctor on the small coastal island of Vinalhaven, Maine. After his service, he began his practice as an internist and cardiologist at the then-widely renowned teaching hospital, St. Luke's hospital in New York City, where he was proud to care for his fellow physicians as a member of the hospital's Staff Physicians' Health Service, and eventually rose to be Chief of Medicine.

Dr. Dallas was the archetypical 20th century doctor: he made house calls, took only two weeks of vacation a year, was on call two out of three weekends, and always visited his patients in the hospital on Saturday, whether or not he was on call. He never failed to make his patient rounds every Christmas morning, sporting his green felt holly bowtie with red berries that Dottie had sewn for him.

When his beeper beeped, he rushed to the nearest phone and headed out immediately to whatever emergency beckoned.

He was beloved by his many patients. For those who couldn't afford to pay, he just didn't bill them.

Besides medicine, the love of his life was his wife of 67 years, Dottie Benz Dallas, a successful professional artist who, in the words of a lifelong friend, was a person with great drive who succeeded in everything she tried. He met her in 6th grade Latin class. He always said he would never take an IQ test after he learned hers was 160. He marveled at her work, and shared her curiosity and sense of adventure. He loved telling stories about their trips, from seeing the temple carved into stone in Petra, to riding camels by the pyramids, navigating a barge through the canal locks in England, and dining with Madame Chiang Kai-shek at a reception for a watercolor society event at which Dottie had been honored.

He and Dottie taught their kids the value of education, hard work, curiosity, kindness, loyalty, and true devotion. In their later years, when Dottie developed severe Alzheimer's, he cared for her at home and never ever left her side.

He was enormously proud of his six grandsons, and loved to tell them stories of his days as a doctor. His 75th anniversary of his graduation from Columbia College coincided with the graduation of one of his grandsons from the same institution. He wasn't able to attend but would have been the first one in the procession as a member of the class of 1950. Another of his grandsons is carrying on his tradition as a future Dr. Dallas.

After retiring from medicine, he and Dottie moved to Virginia to be close to one of his daughters and her family. Affectionately known by his grandsons as « Babbo, » he helped them win pinewood derby car competitions, removed stitches on occasion, admired their trapshooting skills, and even joined them shooting once, reminding them of his expertise as a member of Columbia's rifle team back in his day. Every Christmas Day, he loved watching « Die Hard » with them. He inspired them more profoundly than he may have realized.

He also loved his granddogs, particularly visits from one « Dr. Hobbes, » who received special attention and extra ear scratches.

He did not wear his emotions on his sleeve, but the bagpipes would bring a tear to his eye. Starting on his 90th birthday, on every February 25th from then on, his family brought the world bagpipe champion band, the Macmillan Pipe Band, to celebrate him. They played outside in front of the house, no matter the weather. He happily bundled up and didn't miss a beat.

Dr. Dallas saved countless lives, and touched many more. He was a gentleman in every sense. A true Scot, he was economical both in finance and words. His signature valediction was "Carry on."

Dr. Dallas is survived by his younger brother Ken, his four children, Diana Dallas, Bruce Dallas, Linda Dallas Rich (Peter), and Andrew Dallas (Kimberly), six beloved grandsons, Alec Dallas, Jeremy Dallas, Julian Dallas, Peter « Mackie » Dallas Rich, Will Dallas Rich, and Walker Dallas Rich, and four granddogs, Ozzie, Juno, Po, and his beloved Hobbes.

A private service for family will be held at a later date. Contributions in his honor may be made to the Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons Class of 1954 Scholarship Fund atwww.vpsgiving.org/1954 or by mail to: Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons, Office of Development, 526 West 168th St., 3rd Floor, New York, NY. 10032-3702, Attn: Jane Ferrone.

Carry on.