Doc.

Mark left a voicemail last night… We lost Doc.

I don’t know how widely known this was, but Doc had been fighting cancer for over a year. And because he was a doctor, he knew exactly what he was up against. Coming from a family of doctors, I know this can be both a curse and a blessing. See, doctors often see things like cancer as a simple numbers game that is stacked well against the patient and if you’re the patient, you know the score and you know exactly what’s next.

Doc approached it bravely and as a realist. When I talked to him in May, he told me had a couple of months – tops. At first, it made the conversation awkward. I’ve never been great in those situations, but Doc soothed my nerves and we were able to talk about things… life… more honestly.

“When I do finally die, I want you to tell the story. And I’m not gonna tell you which story… but I don’t think I have too.”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

So, here it goes…

In 2008, Joyo and I were headed to Ohio to host a car show called The Hot Rod Cinematic. Just as we were crossing the Louisiana/Texas border, we had a blowout in the ’60 Chevy wagon we were driving. The wagon pointed in every which direction and crossed multiple lanes of traffic before finally coming to a stop in a ditch. We were stuck in the middle of (k)nowhere with a bent axle, roasted brakes, a cracked wheel, and…

Somehow, Doc heard about our luck and headed in our direction with his rollback loaded up with a squarebody suburban. A couple of hours later, he showed up wearing surgery greens and a smile. An hour after that, the wagon was loaded on the rollback and Joyo and I were headed east in Doc’s suburban.

He saved the day and the car show, but he wasn’t done. After the show, Joyo and I headed back to Louisiana to get Doc’s suburban home and figure out what we needed to do to get my wagon back to Austin. We pulled into Doc’s house around midnight. He left us a key as he was busy working a Shreveport Emergency Room (probably making up for the time missed rescuing us) and we both crashed hard for the night. The next morning we woke up to a note in the kitchen:

“Wagon is in the garage. Have a safe drive back to Austin. – Doc.”

Turns out Doc and Mark had thrashed all weekend – fixing the wagon while we were running the show in Ohio. I didn’t know what to say… Hell, I still don’t know what to think about all he did – not only that weekend, but since the day I met him.

Doc was a bombastic, eccentric, and sometimes offbeat guy… Hell, he’d drive me nuts on occasion. But, you know what? In the almost 20 years that I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him do anything with ill will. And I’ve witnessed him do so many things for so many other people that I can’t even begin to list them all.

A few years back, we had a HAMB member go throw a really rough spell. To support him, we ran some charity auctions. None of the auctions appealed to Doc, but he didn’t let that deter him. He donated $10k… anonymously…. And the only reason I’m not telling the whole story is that Doc told me he’d kill me if I ever did.

I’m keeping that promise.

I love and miss ya Doc. Keep the rubber side down up there.