September 21, 2005
Award honors X-ray pioneer
Dr. Harry Weitz started radiology career in 1938
By Carol South
Herald contributing writer
Former colleagues surprised Dr. Harry Weitz Friday evening with a reception honoring his years as radiologist in the area - where in 1938 he was the first of this new specialty to hang out a shingle.
Just two weeks before his 96th birthday during a party at Windows restaurant, Weitz received a lifetime achievement plaque from the Michigan State Medical Society, County Medical Society and the Michigan Radiological Society. He also was given a special tribute signed by the Governor Jennifer Granholm, State Senator Jason Allen and State Representative Howard Walker.
"It was pretty much a surprise," said Weitz, who attended with his wife, Arlene.
Weitz retired in 1978 after 40 years of practice as a staff radiologist at what became Munson Medical Center during his tenure. A 1933 graduate of the Detroit College of Medicine, he interned at Detroit Receiving Hospital before completing a three-year residency in Roentgenology there.
Dr. Sheets, superintendent of the Traverse City State Hospital hired Weitz on a handshake deal after one interview for an annual salary of $2,900 a year. During the height of the Great Depression, this was good money.
"I could pay my rent and buy food and buy gasoline for my car," recalled Weitz.
The young doctor came to town as a staff radiologist seeing patients from that facility and the 50-bed Munson Hospital. Until 1948, Munson was part of the State Hospital. Newly married and settling into the small medical community - Munson had 17 doctors at the time - Weitz pioneered the field of radiology in the region and was the first radiologist north of Grand Rapids. The field was so new that he had not even studied it in medical school and he was the second Roentgenology resident at Detroit Receiving Hospital.
Weitz practiced solo for 18 years, combining both diagnostic and therapeutic aspects of the field, which today are separate specialties. He termed it clinical radiology, something not practiced anymore.
"I got to know a little bit about the patient, their background, which helped me make a diagnosis," Weitz said.
He had a five-room department in the basement with a diagnosing unit, therapy unit, a portable unit, a darkroom and a minuscule office with a typewriter.
"I was everything: the technician, radiologist, darkroom man and secretary, all in one for several months," recalled Weitz, who was also active in civic affairs, including the Rotary Club, as a trustee for Northwestern Michigan College and as a past president and board member of Temple Beth El.
Weitz lists unbelievable prices from his early days of practice: x-ray of the hand: $3; chest x-ray: $5; more invasive colon studies: $10. He also remembers that a bed on the maternity ward was $5 a day or $25 a week while the doctor's fee for delivering a baby ranged between $20-25.
One time, during World War II when film was in short supply, Weitz x-rayed at Dr. Sheets' request the patients at the State Hospital to screen for tuberculosis. He looked at each chest through the screen one at a time, using the live image to make a diagnosis or give a clean bill of health.
"I did pick up several cases of malignancies as well as tuberculosis," he said.
Born in New York City in 1909, Weitz and his family moved around before settling in Detroit when he was 11. Always wanting to be a doctor, Weitz traces his specific interest to medicine when a neighbor took him hunting at age 7. After this adult would kill a small animal, he would skin it and clean it; Weitz was fascinated by the glimpse inside.
"I ought to know something about that," he recalled thinking at the time.
Known as a gentleman and excellent doctor, Weitz inspired two generations of his family members to follow in his footsteps. Not just as physicians but as radiologists; in that specialty he counts one son, Chuck, who practices in Traverse City, as well as three nephews and a grandson who is finishing up his residency. Another grandson is in medical school and a granddaughter is considering that field.
"I enjoyed every day over the years, it was great!" he said of his career. "Some mornings I'd get a call at 2 a.m. for an emergency and the streets were not yet plowed, so I'd snowshoe to the hospital, about a quarter mile."