The man who gave opportunity

Dr. Ed Hatcher earned the nickname “Mr. Rotary” for good reason. Ed opened his kind heart and sharp mind to the entire world, not just to Bristol. He even led an effort to build a dental and medical center half the world away, in the Phillipines.

As a Rotary representative, Ed traveled to several other distant countries to help eradicate polio. He saw all of humanity as his brother and sister, not just those who looked and spoke like him.

Ed was a champion of humanity close to home, as well. He worked hard behind the scenes over a period of many years to help bring a direly needed medical school here to the Tri-Cities, the Quillen College of Medicine. As a man with humble beginnings, Ed knew that nothing beat “homegrown” - whether it be in maters (tomatoes) or in medical care.

Ed thrived as a local dentist for decades. He never worked on my teeth, but one of his daughters did. Dr. Jan Hatcher-Rice was my dentist for many years. Jan exemplified the same kind heart and sharp mind as her dad.

Becoming a dentist is a grand accomplishment in and of itself. If you’ve ever had a bad toothache, you know what I mean. There’s almost nothing you wouldn’t give to see a proficient and compassionate dentist when you need one.

Ed had somewhat humble beginnings in life, a fact he strived to always remember. He was a graduate of the old Bluff City High School, where he left to serve in the Navy. Ed then spent some time in the forestry service out in Montana before entering dental school.

As much as Ed loved the whole wide world, I have no doubt he loved his local community even more. Bristol became his home, where he and his lovely wife Jo Ann raised three very beautiful and highly intelligent daughters.

Which is precisely where my main “story” about Dr. Ed takes place; near his home at the Country Club of Bristol. The Hatchers lived up behind the old 4th green at the CCB.

One summer while I was still a teenager, Ed invited me to play in the Country Club’s prestigious Member-Guest golf tournament as his guest. After our practice round together, Ed said, “Please come back later to my house for dinner tonight.”

Now yours truly here had nary a clue how nicely the Hatcher clan dressed up for dinner. I showed up at their front door in my customary jeans and t-shirt. Ed and his gracious wife still made me feel quite at home, despite their guest’s quite striking contrast in dinner attire.

I don’t remember much about dinner, other than my eyes were always darting about, trying to catch a glimpse of at least one of those three knock-you-down-dead-good-lookin’ Hatcher gals … just in case one entered the room, you know.

Well, as it turned out I had way more luck playing golf with Ed than I had at catching a glimpse of his daughters.

Now Ed could flat out play some golf. He had for a long time owned the course record at BCC and regularly shot under par there. As I was even a shot or two better than Ed on most days, we formed a formidable duo together.

The thing is, Ed could have invited any of his more well-to-do and socially astute business associates and friends to play as his partner. Instead, he chose a more unworldly young man.

The Member-Guest tournament took place over two days, Saturday and Sunday.

We won the tournament.

Yes, I jumped ahead a bit. But it’s only because us winning the tournament is a world away from “the bigger picture” I want to share with the reader.

“I don’t like giving people things,” Ed had told me during the practice round we played together. “I like giving people opportunity.”

Ed noticed that I played with a hodge-podge set of golf clubs. My father, a hard-working man of meager means, had never been able to buy me a really good set.

After we gained the lead during the first round of the tournament, Ed asked me, “How do you play so well with a yard-sale set of clubs? What in the world might you shoot if you had a really good set?” Ed’s remarks were in no way meant to disparage me or my family. He only meant to inspire me to do my best with the great opportunity at hand.