For James P. Gills, One Passion Has Never Been Enough

More than meets the eye: Ophthalmologist, writer, philanthropist, triathlete, man of science, man of faith. For James P. Gills, one passion has never been enough.

By John Barry, Times Staff Writer
Published July 29, 2007

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TARPON SPRINGS - The blue-masked man bends forward in his rolling chair, back stiff, eyes pressed to microscope. On his surgical table lies a woman wrapped in blue like a package, except for naked right eye, lid peeled back, pupil widely dilated, bathed in light. He is busy with two slender instruments. One obliterates a lens, opaque as butter. The other suctions out milky debris. He slips a tube into the same incision and deposits a folded thing that spreads like the wing of a moth. The folded thing becomes a clear lens. It all takes five minutes. The woman sees again. The blue man is on his feet, hobbling away on severely damaged legs. He stops in the hall for 10 sit-ups, still masked. Time for 10 more cataract surgeries, time to celebrate with patients, to praise the Lord, to sign book No. 27, to pet his Labrador retriever - even time to once more Indian-wrestle his old nemesis, Darwin. He is Christian guru, joke collector and Ironman Triathlon legend. He is millionaire philanthropist and West Virginia ol' boy. He is honored medical innovator who, among his colleagues in science, stands on the lonely nay side of evolution. What DNA composition produced James P. Gills, M.D., 72-year-old blue-masked cataract surgeon? "A question like that can't be answered," says Gills' son Pit, now his partner ophthalmologist. "Some people have a fire for life. That's just part of it."

James P. Gills built the ophthalmology clinic on U.S. 19 in Tarpon Springs that's about the size of a minor United Arab Emirates palace. It's the one with the electric billboard as big as a drive-in screen. He calls it St. Luke's. He gets there by bicycle every day. His usual ritual is to rise at 5, read the Bible aloud, read his joke books "a man's thing," his wife says, mystified, board bicycle and tear down the Pinellas Trail, arriving at work in shorts and helmet.

He used to run to work. He no longer can.

It's one of those stories his wife, Heather, tells with a wince. About 10 years ago, Jim broke his leg in a... click here to read the full story.

Click here to purchase books by James P. Gills from Amazon.

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