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While
they [family members] paved |
Cultivating
a Harry C. Knipp, ’76, pauses and works the numbers carefully over in his mind. It takes him a minute and then comes the answer: “One hundred-and-fifty-four,” he says proudly. The number holds as much significance for Knipp as it does for both the medical school and the profession in the state of Maryland. It marks the number of years the Knipp family has practiced medicine in Baltimore—more than a century-and-a-half. Not only does Knipp, age 54, account for a good portion of the streak, but his father, Dr. Harry L. Knipp; his grandfather, Dr. George A. Knipp; and his great grandfather, Dr. Harry E. Knipp, have played their parts, too. What makes the streak even more impressive is that all four Knipps are Maryland graduates with great grandfather Harry E. leading the way in 1887. “That is pretty cool,” says Knipp, a former president of the Medical Alumni Association who celebrates a 30th reunion this spring. “All right here on the west side of Baltimore.” But Knipp’s career turned out slightly different than his family
members thought it would. While they paved the way as family practitioners,
he broke with tradition and became a radiologist. Along the way he helped
form the largest radiological practice in the state and one of the largest
in the country. In the Knipp family, “medicine 101” began at an early age. As a boy, Knipp answered the telephone at his father and grandfather’s office. He rode along on house calls, spent endless hours in the doctor’s lounge, and listened in at dinner table conversation about the latest medical emergency. “Our whole world growing up was medicine,” Knipp says. “Everybody accepted the fact that it was a big part of our lives.” The first three Knipp physicians were family practitioners. The calling was passed down from one generation to the next like a family heirloom. The Knipps often went beyond the call of duty. Sometimes on Christmas Eve, Knipp’s father Harry, ’51, made house calls. “One day I rode with my grandfather, and he rewired an elderly woman’s lamp,” Knipp recalls. “That’s the kind of stuff I grew up around.” The hard work paid off. The Knipp family became well known in Baltimore for their skill and dedication to the community. “I was so lucky growing up. It was such a boost that I was always presumed to be a good kid,” Knipp says. “That is a big head start that people instantly like you because they like your parents.” Like his father, grandfather and great grand-father, Knipp enrolled at Maryland, and it looked like he, too, was going to become a family doctor. After graduation he did his internship and residency at Maryland. But the more he practiced medicine, the more he was drawn to radiology. He liked analyzing X-rays and helping patients work through serious medical issues. There was a puzzle solving aspect to the work that drew him; analyzing images and trying to figure out what was going on inside the patient. “I know my father was disappointed that I wasn’t going to practice with him in his office,” Knipp says. “People were a little upset with me.” But Knipp had made up his mind. Eventually he helped build a radiology practice outside of Baltimore, and in the mid-1990s he sat at a negotiating table and encouraged his group to join with four others to form Advanced Radiology PA. The move was a bold one because the competitors had to put differences aside to gain leverage in nego-tiating with hospitals, insurers and vendors. Taking a leadership position was nothing new for Knipp, who was chief of staff at Carroll Hospital Center, president of the Maryland Radiological Society, and is currently a member of its council steering committee. “These roles consume a tremendous amount of time,” Knipp admits. “I’ve been blessed with a wonderful group of colleagues who are very supportive of my activities. I’m so appreciative of their efforts to cover for me when I’m away,” he adds. Last year, Knipp was appointed as the first chairman of the Maryland
Board of Physicians, and this year he was re-elected to a two-year term.
He pours over about 60 cases a month in a large, comfortable chair at
home while sipping coffee. He has gained about 10 pounds, he admits. “I
read every complaint that is made to determine whether it should be investigated
or not,” Knipp adds. But will he insist his son choose medicine to keep the streak alive?
“I wouldn’t push,” he says. “It’s his choice.” |