'Wayne the Wacky Rad Guy' says goodbye
Pedersen retires after 42 years at Mercy Medical Center
By John Quinlan, Journal staff writer | Posted: Saturday, June 30, 2007
"He came here with no electricity, but left with gas."
So said roastmaster Dave Liebsack, the administrative director of the Radiology Department of Mercy Medical Center -- Sioux City, of his predecessor, Wayne Pedersen, during a Friday afternoon roast that drew hundreds of friends, colleagues and well-wishers to Mercy to say goodbye to the 42-year health care veteran.
The gala even brought out the big guns, renowned singers Peter, Paul & Mary -- sort of. Helping to sing "Wayne the Wacky Rad Guy" in a group singalong were present and former Mercy CEOs (from present to past) Paul Dougherty, Mari Kaptain-Dahler and Peter Makowski. Sample lyrics: "VPs and directors were blown away with Wayne; They'd all be talking bottom line, he'd think Shania Twain."
Sitting atop a throne in the hospital lobby, Pedersen was given a special plaque by Dougherty for "Living the Mission" of Mercy, along with other gifts, both comic and serious. A supersized portrait of what was reputedly a much-younger and fitter Pedersen in swim trunks, circa 1967, was unveiled by Liebsack. And the longtime New York Yankees fan was given a signed copy of the baseball book, "Eight Men Out," by longtime colleague radiologist Dr. Donald Shenk, who added his own signature to that of author Eliot Asinof. Wine, tea, Irish soda bread and a mock throne for the king of Wayne's World were among the other gifts.
When Makowski, as expected, teared up during his presentation, he said one thing he learned from Pedersen is that you can't take life too seriously. It echoed the sentiments of many of the roastee's colleagues.
In response, Pedersen quipped: "I remember people cried when I first came to work here."
Pedersen, 62, a native of Homer, Neb., started at St. Joseph Hospital in 1965, continuing a few years later at Mercy when it acquired St. Joe's, and he took charge of the department sometime in the mid-'70s.
Patti Prince, a department supervisor who says she has been his "left-hand person" for about 20 years, said her boss was the best. Maybe the reason, Shenk joked later at the roast, is that the key to Wayne's success is that "he went to all the meetings and left Patti Prince back in radiology to do all the work."
"I don't think people realize how smart he is because of his good sense of humor," Prince said. "And he takes a tough job and makes it look easy. When we had our going-away thing (he actually retired a month ago), I said there's three things I learned from Wayne. One is, don't take yourself seriously. Take what you do seriously but don't take yourself seriously. He always wanted to give the utmost to patient care. And when you're at work, it's work. That's why they call it work and not play. You still enjoy yourself, but your patient's your goal."
So how did he last 42 years and outlast 23 administrators at Mercy?
"That's a good question," he said, pausing a bit, thinking of the ex-ballplayer known as the Iron Man. "Cal Ripken was my idol. So I just kept coming."
While Mercy is a tight-knit family and excellent place to work, he said his time to retire had come. His wife, Cindie, who did CT scans, had retired from Mercy in February. "And I didn't want her going and seeing the grandkids all by herself. So I want to be a part of that, too. I'm looking forward to traveling more, seeing our kids and grandkids."
Daughter Laura, an opera singer in Cleveland, was on hand for the festivities. Unable to attend was his son Jeff, who lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife and their two children.
So said roastmaster Dave Liebsack, the administrative director of the Radiology Department of Mercy Medical Center -- Sioux City, of his predecessor, Wayne Pedersen, during a Friday afternoon roast that drew hundreds of friends, colleagues and well-wishers to Mercy to say goodbye to the 42-year health care veteran.
The gala even brought out the big guns, renowned singers Peter, Paul & Mary -- sort of. Helping to sing "Wayne the Wacky Rad Guy" in a group singalong were present and former Mercy CEOs (from present to past) Paul Dougherty, Mari Kaptain-Dahler and Peter Makowski. Sample lyrics: "VPs and directors were blown away with Wayne; They'd all be talking bottom line, he'd think Shania Twain."
Sitting atop a throne in the hospital lobby, Pedersen was given a special plaque by Dougherty for "Living the Mission" of Mercy, along with other gifts, both comic and serious. A supersized portrait of what was reputedly a much-younger and fitter Pedersen in swim trunks, circa 1967, was unveiled by Liebsack. And the longtime New York Yankees fan was given a signed copy of the baseball book, "Eight Men Out," by longtime colleague radiologist Dr. Donald Shenk, who added his own signature to that of author Eliot Asinof. Wine, tea, Irish soda bread and a mock throne for the king of Wayne's World were among the other gifts.
When Makowski, as expected, teared up during his presentation, he said one thing he learned from Pedersen is that you can't take life too seriously. It echoed the sentiments of many of the roastee's colleagues.
In response, Pedersen quipped: "I remember people cried when I first came to work here."
Pedersen, 62, a native of Homer, Neb., started at St. Joseph Hospital in 1965, continuing a few years later at Mercy when it acquired St. Joe's, and he took charge of the department sometime in the mid-'70s.
Patti Prince, a department supervisor who says she has been his "left-hand person" for about 20 years, said her boss was the best. Maybe the reason, Shenk joked later at the roast, is that the key to Wayne's success is that "he went to all the meetings and left Patti Prince back in radiology to do all the work."
"I don't think people realize how smart he is because of his good sense of humor," Prince said. "And he takes a tough job and makes it look easy. When we had our going-away thing (he actually retired a month ago), I said there's three things I learned from Wayne. One is, don't take yourself seriously. Take what you do seriously but don't take yourself seriously. He always wanted to give the utmost to patient care. And when you're at work, it's work. That's why they call it work and not play. You still enjoy yourself, but your patient's your goal."
So how did he last 42 years and outlast 23 administrators at Mercy?
"That's a good question," he said, pausing a bit, thinking of the ex-ballplayer known as the Iron Man. "Cal Ripken was my idol. So I just kept coming."
While Mercy is a tight-knit family and excellent place to work, he said his time to retire had come. His wife, Cindie, who did CT scans, had retired from Mercy in February. "And I didn't want her going and seeing the grandkids all by herself. So I want to be a part of that, too. I'm looking forward to traveling more, seeing our kids and grandkids."
Daughter Laura, an opera singer in Cleveland, was on hand for the festivities. Unable to attend was his son Jeff, who lives in Austin, Texas, with his wife and their two children.
Story Comments
Read More and Post Comments 1 comment(s)
Please note: The following are comments from readers. In no way do they represent the views of The Sioux City Journal or Lee Enterprises. We will not edit or alter your comments, but we do reserve the right to not post or to remove comments that violate our code of conduct. No comment may contain potentially libelous statements; obscene, explicit or racist language; personal attacks, insults or threats. Terms of Service
Larry Robinson wrote on Jul 4, 2007 9:38 AM: