It鈥檚 1981, and James Lally is part of a medical team in a tense emergency room.
He鈥檚 in this position because of a career path that took a few turns. As the son of a veteran of WWII, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War, he too planned for a career in the military, hoping to become a Navy Seal. But after being rejected for poor eyesight, he joined the U.S. Army鈥檚 Airborne Rangers in 1972. Just as he completed his training in reconnaissance, capture, and rescue missions, the Vietnam War came to an end. He and his classmates were Ranger-qualified Privates with zero on-the-ground experience. No one was sure what to do with them.
Proactive, Lally decided to pursue another branch of the military: the U.S. Army Special Forces. He began as an infantryman, but his testing aptitude quickly encouraged his commanding officers to push him toward a more academically challenging training path: combat medic. Statistics demonstrate the 58-week course鈥檚 difficulty: Lally joined a class of 37, but only seven made it to graduation.
Years later, in 1981, the combat medic decided to push himself still further, taking on an additional round of training to become a PA, or physician鈥檚 assistant, which enabled him to diagnose and treat illnesses, order and interpret lab tests, perform procedures, assist in surgery, provide patient education and counseling, and make rounds in hospitals.
As a PA, he ended up in Fort Bragg, N.C., home to one of the military鈥檚 biggest trauma centers. There, he finds himself in the ER.
A roomful of people try to assess the trauma victim while staying out of each other鈥檚 way. Suddenly, in walks a man with his hands in his pockets, looking very relaxed. It鈥檚 Maj. Larry Bragg. He鈥檚 from Texas, and a sense of the South oozes from him like aftershave. Lally half-expects to see cowboy boots protruding from the legs of his uniform.
鈥淗ey, what鈥檚 going on?鈥� Bragg asks as he maneuvers to the head of the bed and takes charge. Suddenly, the apprehensive atmosphere vanishes. Everyone begins working with a sense of calm purpose, rather than a sense of panic. Lally, 27 years old, is in awe. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 the way I want to be,鈥� he thinks.
In pursuit of this goal, he commits to his work as a PA, first in Fort Bragg and then in Grenada. He loves the work and the lifestyle: fulfilling the military passion he inherited from his father, just not through combat. But his supervisor, a flight surgeon, sees greater potential in Lally. He wants him to become a physician. Lally knows the commitment that takes and is relatively old to enter medical school, so he isn鈥檛 interested.
That was in April 1987. Then comes a parachute accident that breaks his back. Because his injury prevents future deployment as a PA, he is forced to take a medical retirement from the military. Reevaluating his options, he decides to take his supervisor鈥檚 advice and applies for medical school. Although he doesn鈥檛 yet have a four-year degree, his military prerequisites and practical experience outweigh his lack of traditional schooling. He is admitted to California鈥檚 Western University of Health Sciences and begins med school in the fall of 1987 at the age of 33.
When he turns 40, he completes his residency. 鈥�Forty,鈥� he repeats, for emphasis. 鈥淚 had classmates who were 26, 28. I was 40.鈥� His age, he explains, added a sense of urgency to his career. He consistently worked long hours to establish a family practice office with another physician. When their practice began to prosper, he started looking for ways to continue his education and refine his expertise. He became a member of the American College of Physician Executives in 1998 and then moved on to 麻豆村鈥檚 Heinz College, where he earned his master鈥檚 in medical management in 2000.
Lally鈥檚 advanced degrees have made him a hospital leader at both the administrative and clinical levels. He has purchased and sold two hospitals, a rare career move for a practicing physician. And he is now the president and chief medical officer of the Chino Valley Medical Center in California, where he oversees some 611 employees, including the 27 residents in his hospital鈥檚 training program. The hospital has been listed on Truven Health Analytics鈥� Top 100 Hospitals for two consecutive years.
Just like Major Bragg, he leads by example鈥攁rriving at work at 4am each day, so dutifully punctual that even a 10-minute delay means he鈥檒l be greeted with 鈥淎re you okay?鈥� And he works around the clock for a host of other projects and causes, among them: team physician and president of the USA Shooting Team, member of the International Olympic Medical Committee, medical director of indigent clinics in Chino and Montclair, and member of the board of trustees for the Chino Valley Medical Center, Montclair Hospital Medical Center, and Canyon Ridge Psychiatric Hospital.
His workload traces back to his dad. 鈥淗e used to say all the time when we were growing up, 鈥榊ou know, there鈥檚 always going to be people bigger. There鈥檚 always going to be people stronger and faster. There鈥檚 probably going to be people smarter. But no one should be able to outwork you. Because that鈥檚 volition; that鈥檚 a choice.鈥�
For all he has accomplished in medicine, Carnegie Mellon has honored him with an Alumni Achievement Award.
鈥�Olivia O'Connor (A'13)
Olivia O鈥機onnor (A鈥�13) has been a regular contributor to this magazine since her sophomore year.
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