by Susan Carini

t is entirely possible that Edward C. Loughlin Jr. never has heard of the Seven Ages of Man. At 63, he is running fast in pursuit of life and, with each turn, establishing a new avenue of achievement. He sat still to be interviewed for this profile; however, the toll that inactivity takes was obvious. After all, this is a man who--in lieu of Norman Rockwell prints of kindly doctors on his wall--has an illustration of himself playing tennis as a "contact sport." Such fearlessness has served him well in his career, where the labyrinthine issues surrounding the administration of Grady Memorial Hospital might have overmatched another man.

In 1975, Loughlin was appointed to the Fulton-DeKalb Hospital Authority. The next day, he became chair of the budget committee for this powerful and controversial group. From 1983 to 1992, he was chair of the Hospital Authority, renegotiating a contract between Fulton and DeKalb counties and Grady and seeing through a bond issue that made much needed improvement and additions to the hospital. His role on the Authority was not without frustrations, some of them bitter. However, there were correspondingly ample rewards.

With a budget for Grady in the $60- to $400-million range during Loughlin's tenure, the stakes were unquestionably high. Several factors were responsible for increasing Grady's appetite for operating funds, according to Loughlin. The space program of the 1960s was one factor, especially given the explosion in technology that occurred after the first missions. In addition, the civil rights legislation of that time required that each hospital offer one standard of health care. Finally, the advent of Medicare meant inflationary health care costs.

The contract administered by the Authority stated that Grady's operating costs were to be no more than 5 mills of the tax digest. As long as the digest was increasing, Grady operated without problems. However, any time the budget exceeded 5 mills, "reasonable conflict" broke out among city politicians.

Years of conflict ensued. Grady posed problems that were physical as well as fiscal. In the 1950s, a new Grady emerged, based on plans drawn in the 1940s, but which had to be tabled while the nation went to war. Since "it was politically incorrect to build a Taj Mahal for the downtrodden," Loughlin says, "even the new Grady was inefficient: it was not air-conditioned; it had 4- and 8-bed wards with limited numbers of bathrooms; it lacked intensive-care units; and--what was most distressing to a more racially unified Atlanta--it had separate facilities for whites and blacks."

As a result, too much got packed into a single renovation, causing it to go over-budget by some $39 million. Ultimately, however, the thinking that prevailed was that Grady was a strong facility that could be enhanced. But to renovate the 1.2 million existing square feet while adding 600,000 new square feet, and continue to run the hospital required cleverness and skill.

Loughlin remains proud that "the investment did result in improved quality of care for patients and improved quality of training for physicians." During his tenure on the Authority, Emory's medical school created three departments: dermatology, orthopaedics, and radiation oncology. In the development of the latter, there was honor for Loughlin. The Woodruff Foundation generously contributed $3.5 million toward construction of the Edward C. Loughlin Jr. Radiation Oncology Center, which was established in 1992.

Yancey, now emeritus professor of surgery at Emory, notes that "there was no limit for Ed in the number of hours he worked for Grady. He made the hospital a leader in patient care, medical education, and clinical research." Echoing this praise is Pinkston, who notes especially the contribution that Loughlin made to indigent patients by lobbying Governor Joe Frank Harris for attention to that issue. Pinkston adds, "Every decision Ed made was based on what was best for the patients."

Loughlin's last act as chair was to sign the purchase option for the Ponce de Leon Center, a facility in Midtown Atlanta that joins under one roof an infectious disease clinic and all the auxiliary AIDS programs that had been created at Grady. As with the renovation of Grady, there were differing opinions about its usefulness, with some of its neighbors fighting against it and with other opponents contending that its presence would invite AIDS sufferers to flock to Atlanta. In protest against the plan, DeKalb County withheld funds from Grady and threatened to sue the Authority. Believing the facility to be "a notable addition to the health care infrastructure of the city," Loughlin never wavered in his support. It intrigued him to see that on the facility's dedication day "there was no problem getting politicians up on the dais to take credit for it."

In 1992, Emory's Medical Alumni Association gave Loughlin its award for Distinguished Professional Achievement. He has received the Medical Association of Atlanta's Aven Cup and Distinguished Service Award and the Georgia Hospital Association's 1993 Distinguished Service Award. A fellow of the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons, Loughlin is immediate past chairman of orthopaedics at Piedmont Hospital, past president of the Georgia Orthopaedic Society, and current president of the Peachtree Orthopaedic Clinic.

H. Herndon Murray practices at the clinic and notes that Loughlin is a man of "unquestioned integrity. People may not always agree with Ed Loughlin, but they inevitably come to respect him."

In Loughlin's view, most doctors want to stay involved with teaching residents, since it is a valuable way for a physician to stay abreast of important changes. "Teaching is expensive," he acknowledges, "but it is money well spent."

Of his partner, Gaston says, "Ed and I have known each other for some 40 years. He is a man who will call a spade a spade, but he always has demonstrated integrity in his actions and loyalty to those working with him."

After 34 years in practice, his idealism is still near at hand. He thinks often, for instance, about the contribution of astronaut Sonny Carter, who graduated from Emory College in 1969 and the School of Medicine in 1973. Having been the faculty adviser to Carter, who died in a commuter plane crash in 1991, Loughlin keeps two patches from his former student from the space program on his wall. "With warmest personal regards and sincere appreciation for your trusted guidance throughout my career," the inscription reads.

When thinking of retirement, Loughlin speaks warmly of a property he co-owns in Rabun County that features an apple orchard and three fish ponds. Freshwater and Loughlin may not mix, however. He seems more at home in the briny waters where the big issues of the day are solved with perseverance and without fear. A smile is just visible on Loughlin's face as he recalls, "I think I gave [former Fulton County Commissioner and Atlanta mayoral candidate] Michael Lomax and others as much hell as they gave me."

To give hell in ways that are fruitful for the community requires entering the salty waters at 6:30 am and dodging the barnacles all day long. The freshwater fish may have to wait.