Few people can say they have contributed more to our field than Dr. Walter Lawrence, Jr., and we are so deeply saddened by his passing Nov. 9 at age 96.
Today, instead of mourning the great loss of such a respected leader, mentor and friend, we felt it would be important to focus on the mark that he forever leaves behind.
As the current and former directors of VCU Massey Cancer Center, our lives—both personally and professionally—have been shaped by Walter. He was the kind of man that we want to emulate as a physician, and as a researcher, but most of all as a person.
At the heart of Walter’s work was his desire to improve health outcomes for all. He wanted to see equity long before that word was even created. Walter’s combined academic background and social consciousness allowed him to be a leader in health equity efforts at the height of the Civil Rights Movement in Richmond.
He attended Dartmouth College as part of a training program for the Navy and attended medical school at the University of Chicago during the peak of World War II. He interned at Johns Hopkins, followed by additional training at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, where he performed New York City’s first-ever kidney transplant.
Driven by a desire to give back to his country, he served in the Korean War from 1952-1954 as the chief of surgery for the 46th Army Surgical Hospital, a M*A*S*H unit.
Following the war, Walter shifted his focus to surgical oncology and is widely recognized as a founding father of the discipline. His innovative approach to surgery had a tremendous impact on the cancer fight and how we still navigate it today.
Walter was among the first to advocate for scaling back the aggressiveness of cancer treatments wherever possible in order to preserve quality of life for survivors. He was also an early proponent of discussing treatment options with patients and their families, so that medical decision-making could be a shared venture between patient and provider. Those acts may not sound revolutionary today, but for the time, all of this was controversial.
During his time as president of the American Cancer Society, he studied the efficacy of mammography and Pap smears, and his work was instrumental to the adoption of both as recommended screenings. He was also one of the first supporters of clinical trials as a way to advance science.
A bit of trivia: Walter served as president of two ACSs at the same time. His second ACS was the American College of Surgeons.
Above all, he never lost his deep drive for social justice.
In 1966, Walter crossed racial lines by starting the first ever university-based division of surgical oncology open to all patients, regardless of race, despite segregation within the hospital system.
That program eventually became VCU Massey Cancer Center, where he served as the founding director for 14 years and was instrumental in earning NCI designation for the center.
During that time, Walter personally mentored many Black surgical oncologists, fighting the good fight to diversify our workforce, which back then was much more homogeneous than it is today. We’re fortunate to have carried that torch as subsequent directors and even more fortunate that Walter continued to provide guidance that was at the same time optimistic for what could be and also realistic about the way things are.
He used to say, “the sun isn’t always going to be out on this job.”
Living in the former capital of the Confederacy, Walter witnessed racism on a daily basis.
When the Southern Surgical Association declined to admit his friend Dr. LaSalle Leffall, because he was Black, and the American Medical Association refused to intervene on Leffall’s behalf, Walter resigned from both groups. Instead, he became a member of the Society of Black Academic Surgeons.
Seeing the whole person is just who Walter was. His kind eyes, his quick smile, and his sense of humor always made you feel good. He made you feel like you mattered. As soon as he walked into the room, patients just felt better. They knew he was going to treat them with the best care possible.
Walter was a role model that we aspire to as cancer center directors and as citizens: be thoughtful, wise, kind, and fight for others, especially those who have no voice at the table. He always had something insightful to say. Every time you saw him, he had a smile on his face and words of encouragement.
That demeanor and a strong sense of social justice drove him to get groups of people from the community involved in our work to figure out how we can reduce the cancer burden for all, which is an emphasis we carry on to this day.
Walter was a giant of the field. Someone that you hear and read about in histories and legends. Having had the privilege of getting to know him and learning that he’s not just approachable but humble, gracious, noble, and hilarious, made us gain even more respect and admiration for him. He never let the astonishing success of his career get in the way of his humanity.
Walter’s legacy will not fade. He will be remembered through the Walter Lawrence, Jr., Distinguished Professorship of Oncology chair, a position which has never ceased to inspire. This title is currently held by Jose Trevino, MD, chair of surgical oncology and chief-of-surgery at Massey and was previously held by Harry Bear, professor of surgical oncology and interim associate director for clinical research of Massey.
At Massey, Walter will be remembered through the inaugural Lawrence Retreat, an all-day symposium where researchers from around the country will gather to discuss ways to connect communities with science and make our field more approachable.
He will also be remembered through the lives he touched at Massey, patients, faculty, staff, volunteers. He personified and is emblematic of the fact that we take our patients and our work and our research very seriously but we don’t take ourselves too seriously. The man hated dressing up in a suit, and he wasn’t shy about saying so.
While we will certainly miss his sage advice, his lessons of having the courage to do the right thing in difficult situations, and the character he showed to do good, even when there is no one around to witness such acts, will remain with us forever.
He wanted to see equity long before that word was even created. Walter’s combined academic background and social consciousness allowed him to be a leader in health equity efforts at the height of the Civil Rights Movement in Richmond.
We hope that this reflection of Walter will serve to inspire a new generation of leaders who will find the courage to change the world, or at least our communities, even when it is not convenient.
Walter is survived by his younger brother, Arthur Gene Lawrence, and his children, Walter Thomas ‘Tom’ Lawrence (Marsha), Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Lawrence Wallingford (David), William Amos Lawrence, and Edward ‘Ted’ Gene Lawrence (Claudia D’Andrea).
Walter and his wife, Susan, had eight grandchildren of whom he was very proud: Susan Newell Wallingford, Sarah Wallingford McKee (James), Cody Thomas Lawrence (Lindsey), Rebecca ‘Becca’ Wallingford Meier (Kyle), Travis Blake Lawrence, Elizabeth ‘Ellie’ Lawrence, Enzo Lawrence, and Dario Lawrence.
A Q&A with Lawrence appears here.
