John was one of my two younger brothers (“the twins”), all three of us born in the Distillery Manager’s house in Bowmore, Isle-of-Islay, Scotland. We relocated to Glasgow shortly after John and Hector arrived, and we grew up there together. We all attended the same school (Jordanhill College School) and the same university (Glasgow University), and while I studied chemistry, John and Hector pursued an education in medicine. John was the smartest of the three of us, leaving high school a year earlier than most of his peers and graduating with both a bachelor’s degree in Pathology and an MB ChB degree in medicine. Both of us entered careers in academia that ultimately took us to the USA – John to the East Coast and I to the Pacific NW, so unfortunately our paths were seldom to cross during our adult lives.
Even as a young boy, John’s selfless consideration for others was clearly evident – always willing to help where needed. I must confess that I took advantage of John’s goodwill on more than one occasion, notably when our mother, Kathie Baillie, asked me to run some errand to the local grocery store – one of my least favorite chores. A whispered request to John usually elicited a positive response, often facilitated by a modest bribe such as a three-pence piece, referred to in the vernacular of the day as a “thrupny bit”! I have no doubt that John’s lifelong concern for others contributed to his reputation as a skilled and compassionate physician – an accomplishment that would have made our father, Allan Baillie, who grew up in Scotland during the Great Depression and never had the opportunity of a higher education, immensely proud.
Both John and I developed an interest in aviation stimulated, no doubt, by many lengthy after-dinner tales of our father’s flying exploits during WWII. We each learned to fly after moving to the USA, and we flew together on several occasions. On one memorable day-trip from Raleigh-Durham to Ocracoke, NC, and back, the alternator failed on the return trip, and before long the battery was drained of sufficient energy to power the radios and navigation instruments. How to get back into a busy commercial airport without a radio – after dark, nonetheless? John calmly decided to land at a small airfield on the way, call ATC on a local pay phone, and make special arrangements to return to RDU as a “no radio” arrival. All went well, the episode illustrating John’s ability to keep cool under pressure – no doubt, another beneficial attribute for a medical practitioner!
Others have commented on John’s outstanding professional reputation in the world of gastroenterology and, in particular, endoscopy. I encountered John’s notoriety personally during a routine pre-colonoscopy interview, when the gastroenterologist assigned to perform the procedure commented on the unusual spelling of my surname. I explained that “Baillie” was the Scottish spelling, whereupon he responded that there was a highly renowned endoscopist with the very same last name who also came from Scotland. I couldn’t resist but to inform the physician that Dr. John Baillie was none other than my “wee brother”, which led to the exclamation that, “Well then, I’d better not screw up your colonoscopy!”
John’s untimely passing is indeed tragic, especially for someone who always was so full of life. His love of family, his compassion for others (dogs as well as humans), his wry sense of humor, and his tireless commitment to the field of medicine, combined to make him a truly unique individual. I am proud of his many accomplishments, personal and professional, and to have been his “big brother.”
Tom Baillie