Remembering Elizabeth McKinley

November 11, 2013

It is my sad duty to share that Elizabeth “Lissa” McKinley, M.D.,M.P.H., founding dean of the Emily Blackwell Society and a treasured member of our school community, died Saturday after a long and courageous battle with cancer. She is survived by her husband, Robert “Chip” Gilkeson, M.D., a professor of radiology at Case Western Reserve, son, Will, and daughter Katie, as well as legions of physicians whom she taught to listen, hear, and heal.

Her colleagues as society deans - Robert Haynie, Lynda Montgomery, Steve Ricanati, and Kent Smith – as well as Kathleen Franco, associate dean of student affairs and admissions at the Cleveland Clinic Lerner College of Medicine, together issued this statement about her:

“Lissa's practice as a clinician and teacher embodied both the science and art of medicine. She knew that physicians work in story, the gathering and the telling. She taught that by telling their stories, they become better healers.  She told us about a time when she tended to a suffering patient, performed a procedure to relieve his pain, then minutes later getting a call from her own physician who reported the return of Lissa's cancer. She laughed and gave thanks for a calling that allowed her to heal her own pain by tending to the needs of her patients and students.  When speaking in public, Dr. McKinley preferred to go last so she could tell a story and let the students know, ‘It is going to be okay.’ 

Recently, Dean Pamela Davis renamed the Blackwell Society to the Blackwell-McKinley Society in honor of Lissa's service to medical education.  She bravely shared her own journey as a patient, writing her experience in a blog that continued through her time in hospice, and, in this way continued to teach her readers. Lissa's example as a humanistic clinician, a caring teacher and a dedicated mentor serve as the legacy that continues to shape the work of medical educators at Case Western Reserve.”

Lissa’s approach to her work, life and illness were so compelling that she was profiled by National Public Radio in 2006, and twice by The Plain Dealer, first in 2010 and again this year. Yet all that has been said and written about her cannot begin to capture the spirit, empathy, and true joy she brought to everyone she encountered.  She was the quintessential humanistic physician, talented, knowledgeable, thoughtful, and sensitive to the human elements in medical care. She was also a storied mentor, beloved by her society and indeed, all the medical students who came in contact with her.  She bore her illness with grace and good humor, and she taught us not only how to live as compassionate physicians, but how to die with grace and dignity.  

Lissa died peacefully, surrounded by her family. We will provide information about arrangements as soon as it is available. Meanwhile, take comfort in this quote from Bishop Anthony Pilla that the deans asked that I share:  No one dies unless they are forgotten. They live in the hearts of those that remember.

Pamela Davis, M.D.
School of Medicine
Case Western Reserve University