Harry J. Buncke, M.D., 1922 to 2008

I did not know Harry Buncke when he began to investigate and then immerse himself in what later became microsurgery, when he achieved so many of his “firsts” for which he will long be remembered. However, I came to know later that anything Harry Buncke pursued he did so with confidence in the outcome. He worked to mend and to heal patients with wounds thought to be unmendable, and he sought to treat those that had no treatments. When the situation was difficult and faltering in the operating room, Harry Buncke had ability and dexterity under pressure. His technical gifts allowed him to achieve the goal he always set for himself: results. Results defined him and pushed him. Results were his conviction and were what made him successful. Harry Buncke’s philosophy, as many had heard him say, was “Ideas are cheap, results are priceless.” When you took notice of him speaking those words, you felt a call to roll up your sleeves, scrub, and get to work. He gave you an invitation to strive, to work with the instruments of your mind, your hands, and with your colleagues to accomplish. He invited you, the residents, fellows, nurses, and staff with him on his journey, and he accomplished great things. Harry Buncke had results, many results, and they were priceless. His own life was a fulfillment of that philosophy. As a resident, and then a fellow and attending surgeon, I worked closely with Dr. Buncke. I have had time to reflect on what made him great. You could see it when you saw him walking down the hallway to the operating room at Davies. He had a demeanor and presence that won you over. It was a presence that was cheerful and invigorating. He greeted everyone by name. A large intellect, incredible warmth, and great, great hands set him apart. When presented with a difficult patient, he did not get overwhelmed, but set in motion. He knew what to do, no matter what the effort or challenge, and he got results. Harry Buncke helped to reshape our specialty. He worked to give us greater choices for patients and urged us to save limbs and human tissues after accidents, cancer, or the fate of a birth malformation. When small blood vessel surgery was just an idea, before the term “microsurgery” had even been coined, he made the instruments and the suture with bonded needles to make replantation possible. When a man came to him with no thumb, he pioneered toe transplantation to mend that man. When a patient came to him with four fingers amputated, he did not hesitate because four fingers had never been reattached before. He successfully microsurgically replanted those fingers. When surgeons needed to be trained in his new techniques, he tutored them, and he published over 400 scientific articles to share that knowledge. Harry Buncke got results, and he was honored for those results. He was elected President of the American Association of Plastic Surgeons, and was awarded the recipient of the Jacobson Innovation Award of the American College of Surgeons. In this Journal, he was called one of the top 10 plastic surgeons of the twentieth century.1 The American Society of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgeons gave him the Presidential Award in 1997, and the International Society of Reconstructive Microsurgery gave him the Millennium Award in 1999. His medical triumphs were supported by his family and personal contentment. Serendipity blessed him when he met and later married Constance Millette. With her, he went to medical school, and he shared in the pride of their children—Greg, Geoff, Adele, and Paul. When surgeons from around the world visited Dr. Buncke, they saw not only the father of microsurgery, but the father that enjoyed and spent time with his family: how he worked on his ranch, how he taught his children the skills to grow, and how he and Dr. Constance Buncke guided them to their own achievements. The children grew to be three doctors and a builder. Harry Buncke got results. With the force of his optimism and the deftness of his hands, he built the craft of microsurgery and its limitless applications. Today, all across the United States, Canada, Europe, Asia, and South America, hundreds of surgeons who learned from Harry Buncke have lost their mentor, but all those he mentored still have something to guide them. They, and we, have his example. We do stand on the shoulders of a giant.Figure: Harry J. Buncke, M.D., 1922 to 2008.

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