Dr. Robert DiPilla
- :

- Aug 26
- 3 min read

As a dentist based in Birmingham, Dr. Robert DiPilla knows all too well about the fear factor patients often associate with his profession. In fact, he still remembers his own ordeals at the dentist when he was growing up. “One of the reasons I became a dentist is because those certain little traumas will stick with you,” he said.
DiPilla takes a personal and comprehensive approach to his work for good reason. “As a marketing strategy, dentists put fear in people that their teeth are going to fall out, but we’re very empathetic and sympathetic and we educate people,” he explained.
Professional training can be another factor. “Dental schools teach the mechanics of the mouth and numbers and profitability,” said DiPilla, who mentors other doctors. “But it’s about doing the right thing for the patient and taking a step back to find out what’s really going on and making sure they’re getting healthy and don’t have inflammation.”
He aims to make patients feel at ease. “I love when someone starts out fearful and now loves coming to the dentist,” he said. “We have a more relaxed atmosphere at our new office. People say: ‘Is this a dentist office or is this a spa?’”
While DiPilla may be known for high-profile smiles, he also provides transformative dental care to patients referred through local nonprofits, shelters and recovery centers. Helping others with these pro bono procedures means a great deal to him. “I was very blessed in my life and I believe that true success in life is giving back and teaching and mentoring and serving,” he said.
DiPilla works closely with Grace Centers of Hope in Pontiac, a nonprofit with programs that includes support for domestic violence victims. “It is a wonderful facility,” he said. DiPilla has also helped several cancer patients whose oral health was affected by chemo and radiation treatments. He works with an oral surgeon for prosthetics.
“At Grace Centers of Hope, I met a patient who’d covered her mouth for years after domestic abuse and meth use destroyed her front teeth. We staged her care – extractions, interim prosthetics, then final restorations when she was stable in recovery. When we handed her the mirror, she put it down and hugged the assistant first. That moment captured why we do this work: people aren’t cases, they’re comebacks.”
DiPilla has also joined humanitarian missions in the Dominican Republic, where his wife is from, and where he partners with orphanages in remote villages to help with much-needed dental care.
“An eight-year-old at Casa de Luz hadn’t slept well in months because of a painful molar. We treated the tooth, applied silver diamine fluoride to other lesions and gave her a soft brush with a simple routine – two minutes, twice a day,” he recalled. “The next morning, she ran up smiling, saying, ‘No dolor’ (No pain). Her caregiver cried. It reminded me that dentistry is dignity. For that little girl, sleep, school and her smile came back at once.”
DiPilla's philanthropic outreach has meant a tremendous amount to him. “Over the years, I’ve treated thousands – from multiple trips to Casa de Luz, to local outreach with Grace Centers of Hope and other local community programs. My true metric of success isn’t the number of patients I’ve seen, but the continuity of care we provide, and whether we’ve prevented the next dental emergency.”
In the end, his legacy matters to him. “When I am long gone from here and people say: What dentist did you go to and the answer is Dr. DiPilla, I want them to say: ‘Those were good people.’”
Story: Jeanine Matlow
Photo: Laurie Tennent













