At 91, Medley is one of Holland's oldest patients and perhaps his most faithful. She's been coming to him almost since he started practicing in Bayside 42 years ago.

As he entered the examination room, Holland leaned down to greet Medley with a tender handshake and a hearty hug.
"What am I going to do now?" she asked.
"You're going to have more fun than the law allows," Holland said, laughing.
"But what am I going to do?"
"You're going to be just fine," he said, reassuring her with a pat on the shoulder.

She was concerned because Holland, 75, a former state senator and Virginia Beach city councilman and mayor, was set to retire from medicine at the end of March 2005. He had been a physician with Bayside Family Practice on Pleasure House Road.

At what would be her last appointment with Holland, Medley confessed she probably didn't have to see him. "But I kind of wanted to see him again," she said. "He's kept me going pretty good."
Holland beamed.
"We all should be as healthy as Ms. Medley at her age," he said.

When Holland opened his practice in 1964, routine office visits cost $4. If a patient couldn't afford that, Holland would barter. Sometimes it was for work on his car. Sometimes it was for a cord of firewood.
"Until I didn't get that full cord," Holland said.
Born in the town of Windsor, just outside Suffolk, Holland was the third of four sons.
His father, Shirley T. Holland, founded the town's first bank and would have loved to see his son follow him into banking, but Holland had other plans.

He earned his bachelor's degree from Hampden-Sydney College and, after serving in the Navy, got his medical degree from the Medical College of Virginia in Richmond in 1962, along with his younger brother, William.

While William specialized in cardiology, Holland opted for family medicine.

"I thought it was the best way to interact with people, with families," he said.

In the late 1960s, Sidney Kellam, the city's leading Democratic king-maker, pushed Holland to parlay his gregarious, outsized personality into public office.

He wound up serving on the Virginia Beach City Council from 1970 to 1982 and was mayor from 1976 to 1978. He later was a state senator from 1984 to 1995. Holland's older brother, Richard, also was a state senator, serving from 1980 until his death in 2000.

But since a failed political comeback bid in 2003, when Holland tried to unseat Republican state Sen. Frank W. Wagner ("I should have had my head examined," Holland said), he swears he is done with politics.

Holland said he plans to spend more time with his family: Mary Elizabeth, his wife of 52 years, three daughters, and six grandchildren. He's an avid golfer and went downhill skiing until he hurt his back last year and required surgery.

He has worked part-time for the past few years, but the injury and his wife's health made him contemplate full retirement. "If I'm going to enjoy any kind of retirement," he said, "I'd like to at least be healthy."

Holland still has a full head of hair, tinged with just a whiff of gray.

Dr. Clarence Holland '52 laughs with Mary Medley, his patient for 42 years.

The silver ballpoint pen he uses to write prescriptions has left a few stray pen marks on the breast pocket of his crisp, blue, button-down shirt. Holland eschews the traditional white doctor's coat, favoring a dress shirt and tie, neatly creased slacks, and tassel loafers.

Sandy VanAllman has been his nurse for the past 26 years. "He makes work fun," she said. "I never felt like it was a chore."

He kids her about being from Massachusetts. "I didn't know 'damn Yankees' was two words till I was 15 years old," he said.

She rides him about his belly and unhealthy habits.

He replies: "I always tell people I'm paid for my wisdom, not my character."

On a recent visit, Margaret Conquest spotted Holland from across the room. "Doctor Holland!" she cried out. "Clancy Holland!"

He spun to face the small, gray-haired woman tottering in his direction. It was another longtime patient saying farewell.

"You have been through hell, haven't you, sugar?" Holland said, giving her a long hug.

She looked up at him and smiled. "God bless you," she said. "Take care."

Anna Tysor came to see Holland last week, complaining of a sore throat and upper-respiratory congestion. She had just returned from a trip to Texas when the symptoms set in.

"If you brought a bug from Texas, I'm gettin' out of the room!" he said, backing up and laughing.

Tysor and her family have been coming to Holland for nearly 30 years. She said he saw them through a lot, especially when her husband was shot and injured in a carjacking 10 years ago.

"He helped him out tremendously with his rehabilitation," Tysor said. "He has a wonderful bedside manner."

Amid the levity is a mountain of sound medical advice, Tysor said. "He is serious if I have a question, and he always puts it in layman's terms," she said. "He won't give me all that medical garbage."

Holland listened to her breathing, touched her neck, and peered into her ears and throat.

"You gotta let me get you on some medication," he said. "And I want you to take a couple days rest, push the liquids. Take a day to catch up and a day to get ahead."

Until his back surgery last year, Holland had never missed a day of work.