Cobb wasn’t alone in his thinking. Because new research and technology on emergency medicine was emerging from Europe in the late 1960s — particularly the use of mobile defibrillators — several physicians in the United States were also brainstorming ways to speed up care in life-or-death situations.
Cobb knew there weren’t enough doctors and nurses to deploy to every emergency medical call, Sayre said, but firefighters were already well dispersed throughout the city and could get places quickly.
He teamed up with Seattle’s fire chief, Gordon Vickery, to map out a pilot training program for firefighters and secure federal grant funding. In 1970, the city launched its initial version of the program, which trained firefighters and equipped “aid cars” for the first time with portable electrocardiogram units that read heart activity, pacemakers, resuscitators and defibrillators, in addition to standard first-aid equipment, according to The Seattle Times archives.
The program planned to dispatch the mobile unit — which initially consisted of two firefighters and a doctor — to heart-attack calls if the patient could be reached within five minutes, The Times reported.
About a year later, follow-up coverage reported Medic One had already responded to more than 600 calls, including to 16 patients who were revived after being found “clinically dead,” Cobb said in an interview at the time. Popularity of the program was growing and things were going smoothly.
Then, in late 1970, federal cutbacks whittled down the program’s grant and nearly put Medic One out of business. But Cobb and Vickery organized a fundraising drive — which yielded an “extraordinary response,” archives say.
“The community stepped up,” Sayre said, referencing bake sales and door-to-door efforts. “They needed to raise about $100,000 and they raised $200,000.”
The Seattle Fire Department eventually incorporated Medic One into its system for good. The idea has popped up in other parts of the country since then — but all of Washington’s Medic One and EMS systems are modeled after Cobb’s initial program, Sayre added.
In 1972, Cobb’s and Vickery’s Medic Two, which aimed to also train community members in CPR, came along. To date, more than a million members of the public have gone through the program, according to the Seattle Fire Department.
“We continue to see how important that is,” Sayre said. “People who get CPR started by a member of the public are twice as likely to survive. … It has to happen quickly, or it’s impossible for your heart to restart.”
He continued, “Now, millions of people learn this skill in high school. But that was a novel idea in Seattle at the time.”
In 2008, Cobb also helped introduce the city’s Resuscitation Academy, which trains EMTs to further improve outcomes for cardiac arrest patients.
Former colleagues remember Cobb as a hands-on leader with a relentless work ethic and constant desire to improve his programs, Sayre said. He even continued working on research up until two years ago, according to John Cobb, his younger son.
“He was forever writing papers on hospital medical care,” Else Cobb added. “Forever looking for better outcomes.”
Now, Seattle is “renowned for one of the finest EMS systems in the country,” according to the volunteer-led National EMS Museum, which documents the history of emergency medical response in the U.S.
Sayre, who knew Cobb for nearly 20 years, said he’ll never forget his mentor’s humility.
“That really made him a great leader,” he said.
But outside of medicine, Cobb’s top priority was his family.
Son John Cobb, 58, especially has fond memories spending summers at their cabin on the Oregon coast, playing bocce ball on the beach and crabbing on the Nehalem River.
When Cobb died, he opted to end his life through Washington state’s Death with Dignity Act, which allows terminally ill adults to request lethal doses of medication.
“His mind was all there, but unfortunately, his body was giving out,” John Cobb said. “He had lost his eyesight. He couldn’t walk. For him, he knew it wasn’t the type of life he wanted to live any longer.”
The day before Cobb died, he spent time with his family and longtime Medic One friends. The next morning was peaceful, his son said.
“In his last minutes, his grandson read one of the poems that had been written for him [by a family member],” John Cobb said. “Those were the last words he heard as he fell asleep. It was a wonderful moment.”
Cobb is survived by his two sons, Eric and John; his wife, Else; and five grandchildren, Alex, Pate, Lindsay, Miles and Owen.
A public memorial ceremony, organized by the Seattle Fire Department and UW Medicine, is in the works. His family has asked that contributions in his memory be made to the Medic One Foundation at 11747 N.E. First St., Unit #310, Bellevue, WA, 98005.
This is such a thoughtful and beautiful story of Leonard’s life. The loss of Leonard is a deeply felt sadness at Skyline but, also, reverberates with the gratitude that we knew this marvelous man. Thank you, Leonard , for spending time with your neighbors and friends at Skyline. To Else and her family we send our deep sympathy.
Linda W0lf