Barney Clark: 1921-1983
No one could doubt the wisdom of the choice. The dentist from Des Moines, Wash., may have been in failing health, but it was clear from the moment he set foot in the University of Utah Medical Center that Barney Clark was a dauntless spirit. "A rugged old Rocky Mountain sagebrush. Tough. Eager for life." That was how Dr. Chase Peterson, a university vice president, described the man who was to make medical history. Those qualities, together with his obviously urgent need, convinced the university selection committee that Clark should be the world's first human to receive a permanent artificial heart. "He was a man worth waiting for," said Committee Member Peg Miller. Those same traits enabled Clark to endure the arduous operation on Dec. 1 and to struggle for 112 days through the perilous and uncharted territory of life with a plastic heart.
Last week the long struggle ended. Beset by kidney failure, chronic respiratory problems, inflammation of the colon and loss of blood pressure, Clark, 62, died quietly. The official cause of death: "circulatory collapse due to multiorgan system failure." The heart itself was in good working order at his death, having beat steadfastly nearly 13 million times. In the final days, Clark's doctors debated what steps they would take to preserve the patient's life: whether, for instance, it would be medically and ethically appropriate to try kidney dialysis on someone so ill. In the end, however, Clark's rapid deterioration obviated such questions. Said Clark's surgeon, William DeVries: "It was essentially the death of the entire being except for the artificial heart." Shortly after 10 p.m. on Wednesday, having consulted with Clark's wife Una Loy, DeVries said, "This courageous man's heart was turned off."
Clark was known for courage and fortitude throughout his life. Just twelve when his father died, he sold hot dogs and did odd jobs to help pay the family mortgage in Provo, Utah. Later he put himself through Brigham Young University and the University of Washington dental school. Father of three, the strapping 6-ft. 2-in. Clark prospered in his Seattle practice and, before his heart began to weaken six years ago, honed his golf handicap to six. "I've done everything I wanted to do in life," he told Peg Miller. "Now if I can make a contribution, my life will count for something." If that meant dying on the operating table, he was prepared. Shortly before surgery, Clark reached for the hand of Una Loy, the high school sweetheart he had married 39 years earlier, and said, "Honey, in case I don't see you again, I just want you to know you've been a darned good wife."