When Otto Knoph Rømcke Gulowsen arrived in Yantai in 1896, the young Norwegian doctor could hardly imagine the city would become his home for the next two decades. Fresh from his doctoral studies, he came with a surgeon's skill and a humanitarian's heart — and left a lasting mark on Yantai's public health sector.

Gulowsen wore many hats — surgeon at the French Catholic Mission Hospital, port quarantine officer for the Maritime Customs, and Norwegian-Swedish Deputy Consul. But he was at his most impactful working on the front lines, preventing the spread of disease and caring for the sick.

In 1911, when plague threatened coastal cities, Gulowsen took charge of health screening at Yantai port. He personally boarded every incoming vessel, examining crews and passengers with meticulous care. His handwritten logs tracked suspected cases and isolation procedures. These records later submitted to the International Plague Conference, becoming valuable primary sources for China's early plague research. 

During the 1914 war, as chief surgeon of the Red Cross Haiyang branch, he organized field teams to treat wounded soldiers and displaced civilians.

Beyond these crises, Gulowsen quietly treated the city's poorest — coolies, peddlers, and struggling families — often for little or no payment. He believed a doctor's duty knew no borders. 

Gulowsen passed away in Yantai in 1920, far from Norway. Yet his name remains part of the city's modern story — a quiet guardian who proved that compassion heals, no matter the language.