HIGHLAND MOURNS DEATH OF
NATIONALLY KNOWN PHYSICIAN
by Leslie Mladinich,
staff writer
Oakland
Dr. Patrick Connell, a nationally known trauma physician who helped extricate
victims of the 1989 Cypress Structure collapse, died Monday after an asthma
attack. The Highland Hospital doctor was 48.
Dr. Connell's unexpected death at his home in Oakland left Alameda County
medical officials, police, nurses, paramedics and Highland doctors and other
staff members in shock.
On Wednesday, the hospital flew its flag at half-staff in his memory.
Longtime colleagues said the Vietnam War veteran thrived in the intense,
every-minute-counts rush of the county hospital emergency room, which treated
about 66,000 patients this year alone.
He had 17 years of experience treating truama patients in emergency rooms in
Oakland and the Watts section of Los Angeles. However, the constant stream
of drug overdoses, gunshot and car accident victims did not spur Dr. Connell
to seek more peace in private medical practice.
His fame as a gunshot wound expert spread nationwide a few years ago when the
television newsmagazine "48 Hours" did a program on him. Cameras followed Dr. Connell around for two days in the
emergency room and even caught him relaxing at one of his favorite hangouts,
the Coffee Mill on Grand Avenue, friends recalled.
"Pat was the one who wanted to be (in the emergency room) when it was the
busiest, the craziest, and the most out of control," said Dr. Barry Simmon ,
chief of Highland's emergency department.
"But he was also a protector", Simmon said, and wanted tao shield medical
staff from potentially violent patients.
He was quirky and eccentric, often going to work in battle fatigues, a
fishing vest and baseball cap.
An avid follower of the Grateful Dead, Dr. Connell "traveled around to
Grateful Dead concerts and he'd take residents and nurses with him," Simmon
recalled.
Dr. Connell was well-liked by members of the Hell's Angels, the Black
Panthers and the Oakland Police Department, all of whom called to console the
Highland staff on Wednesday.
During the Gulf War in l991, the military approached Air Force reservist
Connell about taking a stateside medical assignment in San Francisco at
Letterman Army Hospital or the Presidio. He refused, saying he wanted to
offer truama care on the front lines of Operation Desert Storm.
"I figured if they don't need me in a combat zone, I have one here," he said
at the time.
Simmons said Dr. Connell was one of the East Bay physicians who risked their
own lives extricating people trapped in vehicles when the upper decks of the
Cypress Structure collapsed during the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake.
Dr. Connell also did volunteer medical relief work in Mexico.
Born in a small, rural town in Montana, Dr. Connell attended Creighton
University in Nebraska, and performed his emergency medicine residency at
Martin Luther King Jr. Hospital in Los Angeles. He joined the Highland staff
in l984, and served as chief of the emergency department from l989 to l992.
Dr. Connell had a reputation for putting patients above anything else, his
colleagues said. He was an example to the staff and treated everyone as an
individual, they added.
Dr. Connell is survived by his parents, a brother and stepmother, all of whom
live in Montana. Funeral services are pending.
Date: Wednesday, December 10, 1997 9:25 AM
Peter Miletich R.N. in the E.R.
apeface@earthlink.net
Pat Connell
It is going to be a long time getting over him (Dr Pat) being gone.
The heart and soul of Highland E.R. He just kind of quietly got into peoples hearts over the years. I had no idea how much I
had grown to love him until the empty spot started burning. He came on as the opposite of sentimental but I hope he had at least some incling of how
much he was loved and appreciated.
This Walt Witman poem, came to mind right away.
Oh Captain, my captain ! Our fearful trip is done, the ship has weathered every
rack the prize we sought is won, the port is near, the bells I hear, the people all
exulting. While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring. But oh
heart, heart, heart ! Oh, the bleeding drops of red - where on the deck my Captain
lies, fallen cold and dead.
Oh Captain, my captain ! Rise up and hear the bells ! Rise up - for you the flag is
flung, for you the bugle thrills, for you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths, for you the
shores a-crowding, for you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
Oh Captain, dear father ! The arm beneath your head ! It is some dream that on
the deck you've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still. My father does not feel the
arm under his head, he has no pulse nor will. The ship is anchor'd safe and sound,
its voyage closed and done. From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object
won. But I with mournful tread walks the deck my Captain lies, fallen cold and
dead.