Two Unsung Giants of Healthcare: A Story of Friendship, Grit, and Impact

In the world of healthcare and biotech, two of the most impactful leaders I know are Black men from Alabama who grew up together, attended the same high school, and forged a lifelong friendship that propelled them to extraordinary heights. My father, Selwyn Vickers, and my godfather, Ted Love, are living proof that grit, determination, and a commitment to excellence can overcome any obstacle. Their story—of rising from humble beginnings to becoming titans in medicine and biotech—is one I’m proud to share, not just because of who they are to me, but because of what they represent.

My Uncle Ted and my dad first met in high school, where my Uncle Ted was a year older. He grew up in a large family with eight siblings, and his caring parents wanted him to attend a school that would help him thrive. Meanwhile, my dad’s family moved from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to Huntsville, and he began attending Johnson High School. There, my Uncle Ted served as class president while my dad played football, and both excelled academically. They naturally became friends, drawn together by their shared commitment to doing their best and working hard.

During this time, my dad realized he wanted to become a doctor. Following my grandfather’s advice, he searched for a college with strong pathways to medical school and discovered Johns Hopkins, known for its excellence in preparing future doctors. As close friends, my dad encouraged my Uncle Ted to also consider a top school. My Uncle Ted chose Haverford, partly because my dad’s uncle lived in Philadelphia. In the end, these decisions—to attend Johns Hopkins and Haverford—proved life-changing for them both.

College was tough. Both arrived at elite institutions only to realize their classmates had attended top prep schools and were far ahead—especially in calculus, which was crucial for chemistry and other courses. Neither had studied calculus in high school. Most people would have buckled. Not them. They taught themselves calculus, burning the midnight oil, putting in the work, and refusing to make excuses. My dad juggled all of this while playing football at Johns Hopkins (yes, Division III, but still some what demanding). By the time they caught up, they didn’t just compete—they excelled. During school breaks, they would drive back to Alabama together from the East Coast, sharing stories of their triumphs and setbacks.

After college, Uncle Ted went on to Yale Medical School and then Harvard for his residency, becoming a cardiologist. My dad stayed at Johns Hopkins for medical school, surgical training, and fellowship. Both chose healthcare for the same reason: they love helping people. It’s who they are—servants at heart.

Their careers are a masterclass in resilience and achievement. Uncle Ted’s path is a whirlwind of leadership and innovation: Vice President of Product Development and Regulatory Affairs at Genentech (where he helped develop groundbreaking drugs), President and CEO of Nuvelo (which went public, then faltered—lessons for another day), Executive Vice President and Head of R&D at Onyx Pharmaceuticals (sold to Amgen for $11 billion), and finally co-founder and CEO of Global Blood Therapeutics (GBT). At GBT, he led the development of Oxbryta (voxelotor), the first FDA-approved treatment that directly inhibits sickle hemoglobin polymerization—a breakthrough for sickle cell disease, which disproportionately affects African Americans. His tenure culminated in Pfizer acquiring GBT for $5.4 billion.

My dad’s journey is just as extraordinary. He’s a renowned pancreatic cancer surgeon with over 250 academic publications; served as Chair of the Department of Surgery at the University of Minnesota Medical School; became Senior Vice President of Medicine and Dean of the School of Medicine at UAB; led the UAB Health System and UAB/Ascension St. Vincent’s Alliance; and is now the President and CEO of Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center (MSK)—the largest and one of the most prestigious cancer centers in the world. His appointment in 2022 made him the first Black CEO and President of MSK, where he now leads a $7B+ organization of 20,000 dedicated people saving lives every day.

Often overlooked in their résumés are the families they’ve built. Both have been married to the same women for over 30 years, raising thriving children while excelling in high-pressure careers. They would both say that marrying their respective wives was their single best decision, as these women have been their rocks and steadfast supporters throughout their rise.

They also faced—and still face—barriers because of their skin color. Even in the 2000s—decades after the Civil Rights Movement—both men encountered racial discrimination. Despite their impeccable credentials, they were passed over for opportunities that went to less qualified individuals. My dad was once rejected for a leadership position he was clearly qualified for because the institution “wasn’t ready for someone like him.” They endured subtle (and not-so-subtle) indignities, constantly needing to prove themselves in environments that weren’t always welcoming.

Yet through every twist and turn—whether it was Uncle Ted guiding Nuvelo, launching GBT, or my dad taking the helm at MSK—they’ve been each other’s sounding board. In an era of fleeting connections, their lifelong bond is an enduring testament to the power of true friendship. They’ve leaned on each other while breaking barriers as “the first” or “the only,” always offering perspective and strength in the face of institutional obstacles and personal prejudice.

What truly sets them apart is not just their titles or the billion-dollar deals—they’re not the loud, disruptive, “break everything” type of leaders. Instead, they establish a culture of excellence, working tirelessly but never losing sight of the people they serve, from patients to staff. Both have been vocal in advocating for health equity and diversity in medicine and clinical trials. Uncle Ted specifically honed in on sickle cell disease—long overlooked by mainstream research—while my dad has consistently pursued initiatives that reduce disparities in healthcare.

They are mentors, not gatekeepers. They’ve gone out of their way to support younger Black professionals, creating opportunities they never had. Ask anyone about Uncle Ted or my dad, and you’ll hear stories of admiration and gratitude. They’ve built legacies not only as industry leaders but also as devoted husbands, fathers, and community pillars.

Growing up, I didn’t fully grasp the giants in my life. Now, it’s crystal clear: two Black men from Alabama who turned obstacles into catalysts for change, redefining success not just for themselves, but for everyone around them. Their story isn’t just inspiring—it’s a roadmap for what’s possible when talent meets tenacity, when friendship fuels ambition, and when two people refuse to let society’s limitations define their potential. They pushed forward despite discrimination—perhaps even because of it—ultimately winning on their own terms and transforming American healthcare in the process.