O’Grady, John William March 12, 1943 - September 9, 2026

                                     John William O’Grady

John William O’Grady, M.D., as a practitioner and leader of Lenox Hill medical education, infused generations of patients, students, and all who lived in his orbit with his lifelong commitment to striving for your personal best. John died in comfort at that Manhattan hospital on Wednesday, September 9, 2026, at the age of 83. Along with his family, John was attended by physicians and medical staff whom he had trained, and who still train rising doctors that know him in turn by reputation. 

Born in New York City on March 12, 1943, John was the third of four children of John O’Grady, an architect and high school teacher, and Flora O’Grady (née Hagopian), a scientist and entrepreneur. He grew up helping his mother in her lab, developing his work ethic and attention to detail from a young age. His primary and secondary education occurred at the Barnard School for Boys (now Horace Mann), and he also spent free time playing stickball with neighborhood friends in the Pelham Bay neighborhood of the Bronx.

As a freshman at Columbia College in 1961, John O’Grady encountered a “vision of the good”—philosophical, practical, professional, and personal—in Bertrand Russell’s 1903 essay, “A Free Man’s Worship.” This vision fortified him to the core. 

What Russell recommended, Dr. O’Grady would do for any fellow human: 

“Be it ours to shed sunshine on their path, to lighten their sorrows by the balm of sympathy, to give them the pure joy of a never-tiring affection, to strengthen failing courage, to instil faith in hours of despair . . . and so, when their day is over . . . be it ours to feel that, where they suffered, where they failed, no deed of ours was the cause; but wherever a spark of the divine fire kindled in their hearts, we were ready with encouragement, with sympathy, with brave words in which high courage glowed.”

Whatever the task, the John O’Grady standard called for total commitment in the deed. He never missed a day of school from first to twelfth grade; he never missed a scheduled patient; he never missed his daily runs around the Central Park reservoir; he never missed one of his children’s basketball games or races. He never even walked by an attempted mugging without interrupting it, even (or especially) if it meant chasing down the culprit!

John’s quest for the “personal best” featured a competitive streak as wide and bright as Broadway. John was captain of the Columbia track team in 1962-64, and his coach described him as the most competitive athlete he’d ever trained. But for young John, it was only partly about beating the other guy. Mostly, it was about reaching one’s own maximum potential. This enthusiasm never faded, illuminating his children’s contests: he could be seen sprinting the sidelines or encouraging young athletes to get their “hands up on defense” or “move without the ball!”

In teaching his craft, as director of medical school education for the department of medicine at Lenox Hill Hospital, Dr. O’Grady bore primary responsibility for the third-year medical student population. In that, even the tireless athlete and competitor knew when to turn to balance and compassion.

“I play the role of the patient and the students in turn act as doctor,” he recounted. “The ‘patient’ is very real, and naturally has medical problems and frequently social and psychological problems.  Sometimes life situations impose themselves on diagnoses and care. The cases are challenging and comprehensive and the patient always has a distinct personality.”

In his rich New York accent, embellished with his home town’s can-do humor, he would urge them to treat their own setbacks with the simplest of medical devices, the “retrospectroscope.”

“If a hypothetical cardiac patient dies on the tennis court because he wasn’t admitted at the proper time,” he wrote in a paper on his approach, “or if a patient with cancer of the colon ends up with metastatic disease because a colonoscopy wasn’t performed, I am not overly critical. They understand well enough their error in judgment, without my embarrassing them.  Instead, unlike anywhere else in life, they can use the retrospectroscope to go back in time, reevaluate the patient or change the treatment plan, and get it right.”

To cap it off, the final session of each rotation included time (eagerly anticipated) for Dr. O’Grady to predict each student’s future choice of clinical specialty, based on the qualities he had come to know through their weeks together.

Decade upon decade, from 1974 through 2022, three hours twice weekly, students in clinical rotations at Lenox Hill attended these “O’Grady sessions”—which over the years became legendary at medical schools including New York Medical College (from which he graduated in 1970), Cornell Medical School, New York University School of Medicine, and SUNY Downstate Health Sciences University. Each medical school in turn awarded him its variation of an “Excellence in Teaching” award.

This teaching commitment—always without notes—required continuous review of medical texts and literature, from which his patients reaped the benefit. A patient’s visit to Dr. O’Grady might include medical advice—the near-constant refrain to exercise more or smoke less—but just as readily counsel about work, family, or relationships. He took a deeply personal interest not only in his patients’ health, but in the larger course of their lives and well-being.

Dr. O’Grady’s patients recall him as an astute diagnostician, a relentless proponent of healthy living, a faithful communicator of test results, a passionate advocate with insurers for their proper care, and, always, curious about and eager to advise on major and minor life decisions.  One and all they now say, “There was never anyone like Dr. O’Grady and he will never be replaced!”

Later in his career, Dr. O’Grady took the spirit of contest to the courtroom, serving as an expert witness in cases where he believed doctors were being unfairly targeted.  He never agreed to testify in a case that he felt was not defensible, but once he was on the stand, he took great pride in teaching the jury so that they could understand the medical facts of the case and make truly informed decisions. In these cases, he savored the thrill of victory, because he felt it was truth that won out. 

Outside his professional endeavors, John brought this same curiosity, enthusiasm, and desire to help others reach their own “personal best” to every interaction—whether with a waiter or cab driver, a friend or teammate of his children, or a close family member.  To be in his presence was to know you mattered; indeed, your life was an object of utmost interest and importance. 

When young guests joined the family for dinner, they left having shared—even without meaning to!—their hopes and dreams, and packing personalized action plans for the road home. And beneath his attentive brows, those intense blue eyes ever sparkled with humor.  His grandchildren remember their PJ’s playfulness, his magic tricks, the way he “talked” to the animals at the zoo, and how he “made himself invisible” at family dinners. 

And all knew well his generous smile and wide-flung arms, as he proclaimed: “It’s a great day to be alive in God’s wonderland!”

In his final years, John fought bravely to sustain his precious strength against a devastating and extremely rare neurodegenerative illness.  Even after he could no longer speak, those who helped care for him were inspired by the way he resisted each successive erosion, and how he was able to share smiles and laughter with those around him. The family extends their deepest gratitude and love to the many devoted caregivers whose tireless care, dedication and affection brought comfort and dignity to John during his long ordeal.

John O’Grady is survived by his beloved wife of 52 years, Constance Cushman; his sister, Carole Gelormino; and his three children: James and his wife, Megan; Shannon and her husband, Jesse Margolis; and Patrick. He also leaves five grandchildren; many brothers- and sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews; and multitudes of colleagues, students, and friends. 

A celebration of life will be held on Saturday, March 20, 2027 at 2 pm, at the Faculty House at Columbia University, 64 Morningside Drive, New York, NY 10027.

For those who wish, donations in John’s name may be made to CurePSP, a non-profit organization whose mission is “to raise awareness, build community, improve care and find a cure for PSP, CBD and MSA.”  Information is available at psp.org.