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Sunday, February 21, 1999 (From the Associated Press) By CHRIS NEWTON
The heads of mammoth creatures preserved from trips through the wilds of West Texas and brilliant pictures of underwater landscapes adorn the walls. Crystal statues sit under spotlight lamps in the hallways. All are spoils of what began as a one-man war against wrinkles waged by one of the Lone Star State's most industrious plastic surgeons. Nestled in the outskirts of Abilene, just down the road from Joe Allen's barbecue shack, Tobin's office has become a mecca for the rich, famous and pageant-bound. Why Abilene? When it comes to plastic surgery, Tobin stumbled onto a truth worthy of inscription: If you're someone who can be recognized, you don't want to be. Some of Tobin's patients would be willing to go to Timbuktu to escape the gossip mongers and tabloid photographers of Dallas and Houston. But Abilene, 200 miles west of Dallas, seems to be far enough. From the oil bust to the silicone burst, the 60-year-old surgeon has guided his once small office into one of the most lucrative, exclusive cosmetic surgery practices in the state. His story, which spans two decades, is a tale of nips, tucks, silicone, lawsuits and liposuction. Howard Tobin graduated from Baylor Medical College in 1964; a time when cosmetic plastic surgery was a luxury for the extremely rich and offered few guarantees. He had no real interest in the field and joined the Air Force, operating at Dyess Air Force Base, in Abilene. His specialization in the treatment of head and neck cancer led him to work with Dr. Donald Shumrick, whose procedures utilized some of the bone- and tissue-replacement techniques that would later be employed in cosmetic plastic surgery. "I became convinced that cosmetic plastic surgery as a procedure was going to change the way we thought about our image," Tobin said. "There was a time when the way you were born was what you were stuck with. I believed that the 1980s were going to be a decade when that notion would change for the common man." With his newfound conviction, Tobin considered moving to the big city to open a practice, but the entrepreneur in him and a growing love for flying made him decide the better business venture would be to stay in Abilene. "There were no plastic surgeons in Abilene in 1975 ... literally, I was it," Tobin said. "You can't find a better opportunity to start a business than one in which you're the first to open." Tobin's colleagues suggested that trying to establish a plastic surgery practice in a small West Texas town would be a disaster. And they warned that the rugged individualism of rural Texans meant that most probably were satisfied with their looks -- true or false, every scar was a good story. But even the naysayers couldn't anticipate the popularity of breast augmentation. "Big breasts became popular," Tobin said. "We started to have ranchers and their wives call us and ask about what kind of things were possible. And then the oilmen started calling and calling and calling." A colleague in Dallas, Dr. Jeffrey Williams, said Tobin competed for big city clients and often won. "There were times when we put out surveys to find out where people were going to have the procedure done," Williams said. "The answer: Abilene. What the hell were people going to Abilene for? ... And then we found out about Tobin. Apparently, the early bird gets the worm." Tobin also offered a new surgery that brought hundreds of customers who had never considered plastic surgery: liposuction. "It was controversial, but like any medical procedure, it is very dangerous if performed by unqualified personnel," Tobin said. When reports of deaths associated with the fat-removal procedure began to surface, Tobin expected a dropoff in the number of clients. It never came. In a state where the average man, woman and child are 12 pounds overweight, liposuction became the most popular invention since chicken fried steak. Tobin was charging nearly $2,500 for cosmetic surgeries of all types and his practice was booming. He was able to buy a small plane, which he used to travel across the state for consultations. "Business was good," Tobin said. "We were helping a lot of people and getting great results." It is often said in Texas that if your fate is connected to oil and agriculture, you'd better keep a lemonade stand in your garage. Tobin learned the lesson the hard way. The now-legendary oil bust of the mid-1980s meant that a large segment of Tobin's clientele no longer had the money to spend on the pursuit of perfection. But fortune still worked in Tobin's favor. Because he had started his practice early on, he could boast in newspaper and magazine advertisements that he was one of the most experienced in the field. That experience helped him draw a pageant contestant from Houston who wanted a nose job. Based on her successful outcome, word spread. Tobin found that dozens of young women were eager to improve their chances on the runway. "I developed a close relationship with many of the people who run the pageants in Texas and across the nation," Tobin said. "Heck, I was even a judge in the Miss Texas pageant once." Tobin's reputation with the pageants led to his name being circulated. Ask him for a list of famous patients and he'll smile and say, "You would recognize many of the names and faces." "People like to come to Abilene because there is a more intimate feeling and you know you're not going to run into someone you know," Tobin said. "Privacy was a big issue that led a lot of folks to come out this way." But even as Tobin's practice reached new levels of success, another controversy was brewing. In 1989, lawsuits began clogging Tobin's desk drawers as former patients began claiming that silicone implants used for breast augmentation were leaking and causing serious illnesses. Dow Corning, the largest of the four silicone implant producers, was slapped with tens of thousands of lawsuits from women across the nation alleging the implants had caused diseases ranging from lupus and arthritis to cancer. No doctor who performed a breast augmentation was safe. "I had so many lawsuits filed against me it was incredible," Tobin said. "And we did see a big dropoff in the number of people who wanted the surgery." But while some were predicting doomsday for doctors involved in the procedure, Tobin dodged much of the backlash. "One of the things that this practice has always benefited from was a personal relationship with the clients," Tobin said. "From the moment you walk in the door you are a friend and we try to make you feel that way. Eventually most of my clients decided it was the companies that made the implants that were responsible for any leakage." Dow Corning eventually agreed to a $3 billion plan to compensate 170,000 women worldwide who registered claims against them. Many doctors are still recovering from the controversy. But in the years that followed, saline implants slowly brought back the popularity of the procedure. Now, Tobin works Monday through Friday, and performs no more than two surgeries a day. The average procedure costs $4,500; some cost as much as $15,000. But he still cultivates clients, through word-of-mouth, advertising in Texas Monthly magazine and a Web site. A woman who had just undergone a "full-face rejuvenation," a procedure that removes wrinkles, straightens chins and flattens foreheads, couldn't thank Tobin enough. "I've already looked and I think it's going to be great," she said, as she rested in a patient recovery suite. "I'm so excited for the swelling to go down so I can get a better idea. Thank you. Thank you." Tobin said that sentiment is why he does cosmetic surgery. "I do it now because I love it," Tobin said, smiling
as he flipped through before and after photos on his coffee table.
"I love helping people look they way they want to look.
I've been blessed with success and I'll continue for as long
as I can help others." News Index |