Head and Heart: Ripples in the Stream--A Tribute to Dr. Bill Dukes

Dr. Bill Dukes

(We gathered on August 31 in Clemson, SC to pay tribute to our good friend the Doctor. This is what I said on that sad occasion.)

If you were to visit St, Paul’s Cathedral in London you would find an epitaph for Sir Christopher Wren. He was the great architect that designed not only St. Paul’s Cathedral—but great buildings all over England. He designed 53 London churches alone. In the floor of St. Paul’s—directly under the great dome of that church are these words about Christopher Wren. “If you would seek my monument look around you.”

I do not know a better way to give a tribute to Dr. Bill Dukes than to simply say: Look around you. Why you wouldn’t even have to leave this room—for all over this house are people whose lives are indelibly different because of Bill Dukes.

I hardly know where to begin. Maybe at the beginning at that little cotton mill house in Honea Path where it all began. Bill was born 88 years ago there. And in the fifth grade Mrs. Birdy Case gave him fifty cents to pay for his registration fee to Scout Troop 43. The mill where his parents worked paid his expenses to send him to his first camping experience at Camp Old Indian. Can’t you just see the excitement of that little boy as his world began to grow larger and larger. His Troop bought his first Boy Scouts uniform. They did not know that the ripples in the stream make an indelible influence on our lives. For Bill, you see became the very first Eagle Scout in South Carolina in 1946. For 70 years he gave tirelessly in a multitude of ways to Scouting. For you see, from that tiny beginning he began also to make his own ripples in the stream. And those ripples lasted his whole life.

Like I say I hardly know how to tell Bill Dukes’ story. After high school he worked in the mill for a while. In 1950 he joined the Navy and was in the active service for 4 years. But after that he served in the Naval Reserve for 36 years and left as Captain Dukes. When he left the service he enrolled in Clemson College and graduated in 1957 and enrolled in the Medical University of South Carolina. And in 1961 he became Dr. Dukes. He moved to Clemson and hung out his shingle in 1962 and would practice here for 51 years. He delivered more than 2,800 babies and I don’t know how many thousands of patients he helped.

And in between the ripples in the stream just continued. He spent countless hours in scouting and we do not have time to list a multitude of his scouting honors for his 70 years of work.

He married Sylvia 57 years ago. And they had three children: Gene, Dwight and dear deceased Maria. And he loved all of his children greatly. But when Maria was born and they discovered that she was Downs Syndrome—it must have been devastating for Bill and Sylvia. In that hospital some advised these parents to put Maria in an institution. The family said No. And that decision would change their lives and the lives of countless others. Ripples in the stream. Maria became his sidekick. They went everywhere together. One day in his office I heard Maria on the PA system proclaiming , “Woman having baby, Dr. Dukes. Woman having baby.” She wanted to see her Daddy. I wonder how many families with special need children found help and hope as Bill and Sylvia told their Maria story. Among the multitude of good things they did—was to establish an endowment in the Blue Ridge Council for handicapped scouts. Ripples in the stream.

photo by Sergio Santos / flickr

Bill loved Clemson University and served on University’s Board of Visitors twice. He was the personal physician to three university presidents. We could talk all day about Bill’s honors and his work. Sylvia—I don’t know how he time to sleep. The recognitions to his work bestowed honor after honor on Bill and Sylvia. Mrs. Birdy had no idea that what she did in that fifth grade for that little cotton mill boy would help change his life. Ripples in the stream.

But we turn a different page. Surely we look around us and see everywhere his monuments. But we now say a word to Sylvia who was there the whole time. And a word also to Dr. Gene and to Dwight. And to those two brothers, Joe Robert and Jim Dukes. And that multitude of the rest of us that come with our own grief and our own sadness. But we put our feelings aside to surround this family.

Faith says that we are not alone. Jesus told his disciples, “Let not your heart be troubled…I will send my Holy Spirit to be with you forever.” Losing a loved one is a long and hard journey. And no two of us handle our losses the same way. But the old prophet Jeremiah asked, in a hard time: “Is there no balm in Gilead?” And the testimony of many in this room could say to Sylvia and this family: “Oh yes…there is a balm in Gilead.” Psalm 147 says that “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” So this is my prayer for the family and all of us here—we are not alone on our journey.

Sylvia—and boys—when the black writer Alex Haley was a little boy he would sit at the kitchen table and cry. Life was hard then for that little black boy in Tennessee. And his grandmother would put her arms around him and say: “Alex, we don’t know when Jesus is going to come—but he will always come on time.”

I could not be at Bill Dukes’ retirement celebration. I had to be out of town. But I wrote him a letter in July of 2013. This is what I wrote:

July 12, 2013

Dr. Bill Dukes

My dear Bill:

When you count on your hands people that you love that have helped you Bill Dukes is certainly on my list.

We’ve shared cotton-mill backgrounds and from the beginning had a lot in common. You came up the hard way—and you made a decision back there that you wanted to be a Doctor. Lord knows the obstacles you had to crawl through. I do not know about others—but I do know your journey, like so many others was hard.

So you got there—Bill Dukes, MD. There are doctors and there are doctors. And you are one of those real Doctors. Who knows how many people you helped through the years. When we were here for thirteen years you were our Doctor—without charge. I wonder how many people you did the same thing for. Anyway—in an age when it is hard to even see a Doctor—when we called, you came. I have told many people: “Our Doctor makes house calls.” They would look at me like I had lost my mind. But you came out to our house I don’t know how many times and you not only allayed our fears—but you dealt with the pain.

You had three children: Gene, Dwight and Maria. You loved them all. But I especially remember Maria and watching her grow up. All children change your lives—but Maria turned you all inside out. Some of your friends tried to get you to instutionalize her. You thought they were crazy. The old book says: “Be careful lest you entertain angels unawares.” Maybe at the beginning you did not know—but as time progressed—you knew you had an angel on your hands. I loved her as you well know. I baptized her and after that she would come out the church door and say: “I want to get baptized!” and I would say: “Maria you don’t do that but one time.” And she would laugh and ask me the same question the next Sunday. I loved the way you and Sylvia loved her and accepted her. She changed your lives—and in turn—you changed a whole lot of lives by talking to parents who had special needs children. I remember the day she died and I came over to your house and you were in the floor holding dear dead Maria. Thank you for being a model for all folk with special needs children.

I heard just a few years ago from Tom Lynch how sick you were and I called you up long distance to talk to you. You could have died—you didn’t. You came back and you worked and worked. As your best friend Tom died, it must have hurt you immensely.

So thanks for the memories—which are good and special. Thanks for all you have done for so many. And thanks to you and Sylvia for opening the door and letting me into your hearts. Gayle and I have a long-planned trip to the beach with our kids and grandchildren on July 28. But be assured we wanted to be at your retirement celebration and we know this will be a wonderful, wonderful day.

I look forward to sitting down and remembering old times soon. Thanks. Enjoy the days ahead. Gayle joins me in saying: thanks...thanks...thanks.

Sincerely—Roger Lovette

Toward the end of the book of Philippians Paul wrote: “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and anything worthy of praise remember these things.”

Ripples in the stream…they go on forever.