Danny Duke, MD A Texas Voice

Foreward

by Abraham Verghese

Danny Duke was a beloved husband, father, physician, columnist, musician, gourmet cook, and photographer. And he was my friend. We were members of a workshop we called the Physicians Writing Group, in spite of our singular attorney participant. Ostensibly, I was the group leader, but I learned far more from my “students” than I ever gave them. They suffered early sections of “Cutting For Stone” with grace and good humor.

We all came to look forward to our monthly gathering. The food was lovely and the wine flowed. We talked writing and critiqued each other’s work seriously. Most everyone in the group ended up publishing a piece developed there, a list that would include at least four books. And now, I am pleased to say, we can add another. Here at last is Danny’s.

Danny was born in Shreveport, LA on January 21, 1947, the son of Mozelle and C.B. Duke, Jr. In his essays, Danny often harked back to his childhood in rural Texas and the values he learned there. A gifted musician, he was one of the last two students of his piano teacher, Mrs. Wideman; Van Cliburn was the other. Danny played piano at The Barn while attending college at U.T. Austin. He continued his music career through medical school at the U.T. Health Science Center in San Antonio, playing at Dirty Nelly’s and The Old San Francisco Steakhouse. He completed his internship in San Antonio before moving with his wife, Judy, to Rochester, Minnesota for his ophthalmology training, which included a three month stint in Nigeria. Upon his return to San Antonio in 1977, Danny opened his private practice.

I have many and varied memories of Danny: his great cooking, his fabulous photographs of Texas wildflowers, his indefatigable story-telling, and his inexhaustible musical repertoire. When Danny sat down at the piano, the party became truly unforgettable --“Unforgettable” appropriately being a song that he sang in duet with his daughter, Lisa.

Danny took his life on July 5, 2004. His death was devastating to those who knew and loved him: unexpected and tragic. I spoke at his memorial service, as he had requested, held in the medical school auditorium, just ten feet away from the room where our writers group met. Finding and delivering the words to eulogize Danny proved to be one of the hardest things I have ever done.

But it turns out we haven’t entirely lost Danny. This collection of Danny’s essays and poetry, so carefully compiled by Dr. Marvin Forland, and edited by Lee Robinson and 5