Today, people in Grand Rapids will be celebrating one of the city’s greats: Dr. John “Johnny” MacKeigan, who died Sunday of advanced-stage cancer. Dr. MacKeigan, was a prominent surgeon in the city for decades, was former vice president and chief medical officer for Spectrum Health, co-authored dozens of publications, and served on countless boards. He was also a husband, father of three, and grandfather of seven. I knew him simply as “Johnny,” a close friend of my sister and brother-in-law.
I had the pleasure of meeting Johnny and his wife, Suzie, at a number of my sister’s social gatherings, and of sitting next to Johnny at a special “Plantsgiving” dinner. Johnny was a quick and easy conversationalist, and I delighted in his company and wise perspective. But as the tributes and remembrances pour in for Dr. MacKeigan, it seems that it isn’t his intellect, his leadership or his surgical skill (all prodigious, mind you) that people speak of first—it is his kindness.
This strikes a chord for me, as I have been thinking a lot lately about legacy. What does it mean to live a good life? How do each of us craft a life that passes on what we value most? I started thinking about legacy after reading an article about a Harvard research study that examined whether we as parents are really teaching our children the values that we think we are. In the study, children were asked what they value most: achieving at a high level, happiness, or caring for others. A surprising 80% ranked achievement or happiness over caring for others. And 80% of the youth also reported that their parents valued achievement and happiness over caring for others, even as the parents reported that caring for others was a top priority.
“At the root of this problem,” the researchers theorize, “may be a rhetoric/reality gap, a gap between what parents and other adults say are their top priorities and the real messages they convey in their behavior day to day.”
The solution, according to lead researcher, Richard Weissbourd, who runs the Making Caring Common Project, is “straightforward, but not easy.” And this brings me back to Johnny. Of all the strategies that Weissbourd and his team give to help parents raise kind and compassionate children—from being a strong moral role model, to making caring for others a high priority, to expanding one’s circle of concern—Johnny embodied them all beautifully.
I observed firsthand, Johnny’s uncanny ability to “zoom in,” as the researchers describe the ability to listen carefully to what someone close to us is saying, and at the same time, to “zoom out,” or consider multiple perspectives thoughtfully and see the bigger picture. This skill is what forms the basis for children to expand their own circle of concern, and to develop empathy for those who are different from us, or who face challenges in faraway places.
As Weissbourd notes, kindness is a skill that must be practiced, much like learning to play an instrument. Johnny learned and practiced and perfected this skill, and the kindness that he showed the world is like the pebble dropped into still water. The gentle ripples now wash over and inspire my own family, and countless others who were touched by his compassion. Truly, what could be a better legacy?
The Harmony of Opposites 
Even though you didn’t know Johnny well, you captured his spirit beautifully. Well done, sis!
Thank you Sue! I just wanted to do something to honor Johnny in my own small way.