On the eve of his 83rd birthday last October, former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop sat glumly in his suite at the Waldorf-Astoria in Manhattan. As an attorney grilled him about fraud charges leveled against executives at Drkoop.com, he must have wondered what had gone wrong at the Web site that bore his good name.

Just four months earlier, Drkoop had gone public, making Koop an instant Internet icon, a multimillionaire on paper and an elder statesman in an industry of young turks. Drkoop quickly had become one of the most popular health-information sites on both the Web and Wall Street. It seemed that Koop's high-minded objective - to get important health information to the public by exploiting the gold-rush mentality of the Internet - was paying off.

But as Koop was beginning to discover, success can be fleeting in the Internet Economy. First came a startling front-page story in the New York Times (NYT) questioning Koop's online ethics, of all things. Now, just weeks later, he faced serious questions from an attorney about whether his chief executive and vice chairman had cheated a consultant out of stock options worth millions of dollars.

As surgeon general, Koop stared down senators and took on Big Tobacco. But as chairman of Drkoop, he had trouble answering the most basic questions about his own company. He conceded to the consultant's lawyer that he knew next to nothing about the allegations of wrongdoing. Nor was he aware that CEO Donald Hackett had handed out stock options worth $1 million to a lawyer friend. Nor did he know what services Drkoop's biggest investor had provided the company. As the deposition dragged on, it was apparent that Koop was almost completely out of the loop about the goings-on at Drkoop headquarters in Austin, Texas. "I don't micromanage problems that I delegate to people that I trust," said Koop, parrying with the attorney.

Perhaps he should have. Today Drkoop is struggling to survive as its cash runs out, its stock price hovers near $1, and senior managers and staff head for the door. While Koop remained in his Hanover, N.H., home, Drkoop executives were cutting questionable deals and handing out lavish salaries that drained the company's coffers in a matter of months. Now, some angry investors, feeling swindled after Koop and three other directors sold stock at a handsome profit before releasing damaging information about the company, are suing Drkoop and its executives for fraud. Koop, who made nearly $1 million in his stock sale, won't escape shareholders' ire - as chairman he has a legal duty to safeguard their interests.

Koop isn't talking, but the reversal of his fortune has left his old friends and supporters bewildered. Koop, the best-known surgeon general of the 20th century, stepped down from public office in 1989. His principled stands on divisive issues like AIDS and his proselytizing on behalf of public health made "Koop" a symbol of integrity. A pop-culture fixture, "Koop" continues to carry weight years after he returned to private life. Now, in the twilight of his career, Koop's reputation is in jeopardy.

Koop may have been a good doctor, but events would show he wasn't a savvy businessman. It was only three years ago that his first venture into the private sector - a health videotape series backed by Time Life - collapsed in bankruptcy. Then, like now, Koop trusted business associates bent on making a profit to carry out his public health mission. "I have been quite saddened at the turn of events affecting my good friend since the summer of 1999," says George Lundberg, the former longtime editor of the Journal of the American Medical Association (dossier) and now editor of MedicaLogic/Medscape, an online health company.

In an industry that has attracted its share of dreamers, schemers and oddballs, no dot-commer has ever been quite like C. Everett Koop. A pioneering pediatric surgeon in Philadelphia, Koop was 64 years old when President Ronald Reagan appointed him surgeon general in 1981, when many of today's Net executives were barely out of elementary school.

Koop's knack for doing the unexpected - who would have guessed he would become chairman of an Internet firm - was apparent soon after he took office. His anti-abortion views and ties to the religious right made him a natural choice for the Reagan administration. Once installed as surgeon general, however, Koop surprised his liberal critics and infuriated the White House by crusading against tobacco companies and making AIDS a priority. Koop's white beard and bearing gave him the air of an Old Testament patriarch delivering the Word from on high. Koop gripped the public's imagination, and after eight years of service had earned the title of "America's doctor."