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April 2, 1944–September 21, 2016 Julian C. Mosley, M.D. Memorial contributions would be appreciated to: American Cancer Society 4207 Lindell Boulevard St. Louis, MO 63108 (314) 286-8167 Julian C. Mosley, M.D. April 2, 1944 - September 21, 2016 Memorial Service Sunday, November 20, 2016 Washington University — Graham Chapel St. Louis, Missouri

Dr. Julian Mosley

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April 2, 1944–September 21, 2016

Julian C. Mosley, M.D.

Memorial contributions would be appreciated to: American Cancer Society4207 Lindell Boulevard

St. Louis, MO 63108(314) 286-8167

Julian C. Mosley, M.D.April 2, 1944 - September 21, 2016

Memorial ServiceSunday, November 20, 2016

Washington University — Graham ChapelSt. Louis, Missouri

He made inroads in both his community education and academic recruit-ment efforts. But despite his success, Dr. Ross said that Dr. Mosley re-mained “a very unassuming person.”

“He didn’t always talk about the doors he opened,” Dr. Ross said. “He gave lots of homage to those who came before. He was well respected by the academic community as well as the community in general.”

A Legacy of BenevolenceAmong Dr. Mosley numerous affiliations were the St. Louis Medical Society, the Mound City Medical Society, the NAACP and Eta Boulé, a professional men’s organization. For more than three decades, he was a staunch sup-porter of the St. Louis Area Council, Boy Scouts of America and the Ameri-can Cancer Society; in 1982, he founded the organization’s North Metro-politan unit. Beginning in 2003, Dr. Mosley was chief of surgery and an instructor for the old Forest Park Hospital.

A fair amount of his spare time was spent watching St. Louis sports teams and attending track and field meets, particularly the Drake Relays at Drake University in Iowa.

Dr. Mosley, who had lived in the Central West End for many years, never forgot his roots. He asked that his remains be scattered in the Mississippi to show how his life spanned the two sides of the River – and to show his love of both.

He was married for 13 years to the former Sheila Stern (later Stix, now Bader), whom he met while both were undergraduates at Saint Louis Univer-sity. They had one child.

Dr. Mosley was preceded in death by his parents.

Among his survivors are his wife, Annetta Booth, his son and daughter-in-law, Julian (“Jay”) C. Mosley III and Roxann Barnes Mosley of Los Ange-les, and their two children, Chloe Juliauna Mosley and Harper Ella Jillian Mosley.

Mississippi. After marrying Cedell Mosley Sr., she man-aged her nearby grocery store and rental properties before becoming a full-time homemaker.

His father, who came from Alabama, became one of the few Black police officers on either side of the River. He rose steadily through the ranks of law enforcement to become chief of police and later the city’s public safety director. He retired as head of security for an East Side bank.

Dr. Mosley was in the first class to have African American students at East Side Senior High School, from which he graduated in 1962. He attended the United States Air Force Academy for two years before earning a Bachelor of Science degree in chemistry from Saint Louis University in 1966. He was the first East St. Louisan to graduate from the Washington University School of Medicine and he went on to become the first African-American to be chief surgery resident at the old Jewish Hospital of St. Louis.

A Surgeon Who Opened DoorsAfter graduating from Saint Louis University, Dr. Mosley served as a research chemist at Anheuser Busch Brew-ery in St. Louis, followed by an internship, residency and his chief residency at the old Jewish Hospital until 1977. During his final year of residency, he also held an American Cancer Society fellowship at Ellis Fishel State Cancer Hospital in Columbia, Mo.

His fourth year of med school presented the unique opportunity. He delivered babies during an obstetrics/gynecology rotation at Homer G. Phillips Hospital, St. Louis’ premiere training ground for Black doctors for more than 40 years, until its closing in 1979. Dr. Mosley became a surgeon and went into private

practice in St. Louis in 1977. He partnered with Frank O. Richards, M.D., at Near North Central Surgical Practices until Dr. Richards’s retirement. He also partnered with Parkside Surgical & Medical Practices. He continued to practice until shortly before his death at 72 of prostate cancer.. During the ’90s, Dr. Mosley worked with other physicians and community leaders to help reduce cancer in Blacks through education. He cited smoking, environmental pollutants and lack of knowledge of health care options among the chief culprits.

Julian Mosley Jr. was the second African American to graduate from Washington University School of Medi-cine, which had been in existence for more than 80 years when he received his medical degree in 1972. Ten years earlier, Dr. James L. Sweatt had been the first.

“I think that happened because, among blacks, the Washington University medical school was perceived not only as traditionally white and expensive, but

also as requiring almost impossibly impeccable credentials,” Dr. Mosley said last year. “Even well-qualified blacks didn’t think they would have much of a chance.”

Every ten years was not good enough for Dr. Mosley. While still in med school, he began his dogged quest to ensure that the medical school increased its output of Black doctors. He began actively recruiting other Blacks and throughout his life he continued to do so. He became a long-standing member of the med school’s admissions committee.

In 1979, Will Ross, M.D., who is currently the medical school’s dean of mi-nority affairs, was one of Dr. Mosley’s recruits. Dr. Ross was a Yale under-graduate at the time.

“He said ‘you belong here in St. Louis,’” Dr. Ross fondly recalled. “He was very convincing. I owe him a debt of gratitude. Julian had stories of what it was like for him and wanted the institute to become more embracing of people of color.”

He succeeded. More than 300 Blacks have now graduated from the medical school.

An East Side Boy Makes GoodJulian Cedell Mosley, Jr. had always wanted to be a doctor. It was a big dream for a Black kid growing up at the intersection of Gaty Avenue and 26th Street in East St. Louis, even in the city’s golden years.

He was born on April 2, 1944, in St. Louis at St. Mary’s Infirmary, the first private, full-service hospital to allow Black phy-

sicians to admit their patients. They nicknamed him Mickey because he cried like a little mouse. Mickey was the only child of Julian Cedell Mosley, Sr., who was known as Cedell, and Thaddeus (”Thad”) Scott Mosley, who was named for her father.

Like thousands before them, his parents had joined The Great Migration of Blacks to the north for better jobs and to escape Jim Crow. His mother came from