Dr. Duane Andrews with two of his grandchildren. (Contributed photo)

At 80 years old, general surgeon Dr. Duane Andrews was still performing difficult surgeries and accepting complex cases he knew others might not take on.

“He called it the ‘Surgical Arts’ and ‘the technique of surgery,’” his daughter Allison Andrews said. “He cared tremendously about that. He tried to uphold the quality of his skills and he felt a real deep mission in doing that in a time when (other surgeons were) specializing … and perhaps not taking on complicated, hard cases.”

On June 1, Duane passed away at 86 years old. The Tyler surgeon had retired a few years before after having multiple falls and COVID-19. But if he could’ve kept going, Allison believes her father would have continued doing surgery because it was his passion.

People remember Duane for his kindness, passion for his faith and love for his family. In addition to being a surgeon at Christus Trinity Mother Frances Hospital, he helped start and fund St. Paul Children’s Services and started Mission Week at Marvin Methodist Church over 30 years ago.

His impact and death is felt by former patients and co-workers, family and friends.

Becoming a doctor

Duane was born and raised in Alvin. He grew up in humble beginnings raised by parents who were teachers.

He went to Rice Institute, now Rice University, where he was reunited with Patty, who would become his wife. She grew up going to the same Methodist church as Duane. The pair saw each other again at the Methodist Student Foundation and church in Houston. They married shortly after graduating.

Duane went to medical school at Baylor College of Medicine. He graduated from Baylor and Rice with the highest honors. Afterwards, he began his internship at Parkland Hospital in Dallas, where he fell in love with surgery. While in Dallas, Duane and Patty had their first daughter, Susan Andrews Hageman (married to husband Randy Hageman).

Duane enlisted during the Vietnam War, interrupting his internship. He was assigned to Mountain Home Idaho Air Force Base as a flight surgeon. While there, the couple had their second daughter, Allison.

When Duane returned home from service, he continued his residency at Parkland.

After that, Duane and the family moved to Tyler, where Duane began his practice as a partner with Dr. Pat Thomas. Duane and Patty believed Tyler would be a good place to raise children.

Remembering their dad

As kids, Allison and Susan would beg their mother to call their dad at work — just because they missed him.

When they would call, they would announce the phone call for Duane over the loudspeaker because they did not have pagers at the time. He would pick up the phone in the hallway and they would ask, “When are you coming home?”

The girls couldn’t wait for their dad to get back home, because he was so much fun with a great sense of humor. He taught them to do the jitterbug, how to throw a ball, how to fish and would take them camping.

“He did things like that in spite of the fact that he worked constantly,” Allison said.

A man of faith

Duane could often be found wearing his scrubs while at church, and sometimes he might drift off, because he was that tired from working so much. Still, as a passionate Methodist, he showed up. He loved the church and classic hymns.

He was involved with several boards at Marvin Methodist Church. He was also passionate about missionary work.

When Allison was in college, she went down to the Texas-Mexico border to do mission work for six months. At the end of the mission trip, Duane came to help her and a group of college kids to help build a church building. He did most of the work because they were unskilled.

“He was so energized. He was so excited about that kind of mission work that he then came back and started Mission Week,” Allison said.

After returning, Duane started Mission Week at Marvin Methodist Church along with Allison’s brother-in-law, then an associate pastor at Marvin, and Melissa Brigman, then Director of Missions at Marvin.

When Mission Week started, they would spend weeks repairing and building houses in East Tyler, in the neighborhoods around St. Paul Children’s Services.

Brigman remembers Duane as beloved and humble with a “sweet, sweet spirit.” Above all, she said he was a servant to God.

When Brigman and her husband adopted their son from Russia, Duane was there to help them.

Before Brigman and her son adopted their son from Russia, they were told he needed surgery. They were given the option for him to get surgery in the United States, but they needed a signed document proving they had a doctor ready. Duane stepped in to help them without question.

Once their son arrived in Tyler, Duane gave him an exam. He smiled from ear to ear and told the couple their son did not need surgery. They were ecstatic.

Starting St. Paul

Before St. Paul Children’s Services and Bethesda Pediatrics (formerly St. Paul Children’s Clinic), the Smith County Health Department would come and do a mobile clinic at a small cottage building once a month. At St. Paul Church, they would treat the children who had no pediatrician and needed healthcare.

Duane and Brigman were standing by a brick wall next to the cottage. Next to the church, there were old, dilapidated houses. One of the houses had been tagged as a drug house. That same day, Duane told Brigman he wanted to buy the house and turn it into a medical clinic for the children in the area.

Nine months later, they acquired houses near the block. They started fundraising and started what later became Bethesda Pediatrics and St. Paul Children’s Services.

They started with the clinic, then the food pantry, clothes closet and later a dental clinic.

“It was all a vision of Dr. Andrews, to provide children with holistic care for their body, for their minds and for their souls,” Brigman said. “And I was just so privileged to get to be there with him.”

Impact on the community

Bethesda Pediatrics Medical Director Dr. Danny Price came to work for St. Paul in 2007 after returning from a mission trip. He found purpose working there.

A few weeks after starting there, Duane came up to him, held his arm, looked him in the eyes and thanked him for coming to work for them.

“St. Paul was the answer to what God had for me, and I’ve been here for 17 years now,” Price said. “But when I think of the sincerity and how serious he was about that thanks, I know now it’s because he saw all of these children cared for here as his. So anybody that was going to come and take care of his kids was at the top of his list, and he treated me like that for the entire 17 years.”

Tyler heart surgeon Dr. William Turner remembers seeing Duane’s red truck when he came into work early in the morning and when he left later that evening at the Mother Frances Hospital parking lot.

In between a busy day, they would have occasional meetings in the doctors’ lounge — drinking coffee, having breakfast, sharing stories about how they trained to be doctors and general philosophies about patient care and life.

“I was like a sponge,” Turner said. “I would soak it all in. Basically I would just listen and be involved by the pearls of wisdom that he would share — not only clinical pearls, but life lessons.”

During the era Duane trained, he was taught all components of surgery making him a “complete surgeon,” Turner said. He was highly skilled and if he had chosen to specialize, he would have succeeded in any specialization of surgery, Turner added.

“He had such a soft touch and feel for anatomy and such surgical instincts; it was a gift,” Turner said. “People are born with that. Some are born with it; some acquire it. He was gifted with that.”

Nurse Debbie Carlyle worked at East Texas Medical Center (now UT Health East Texas) for 10 years with Duane. After he left, she wrote Duane a letter and went to work for him at Mother Frances. She worked over 30 years with Duane as his first assist helping him during vascular surgeries, kidney transplants, oncology surgeries and other surgeries.

“I’m lucky that he chose me,” Carlyle said. “I got to work with the most compassionate man I’ve ever known.”

Carlyle remembers Duane as gentle. He wanted to know everything about his patients. He would often hand out their numbers in case a patient had any issues. He worked during holidays and would call Carlyle for help with surgeries.

He performed complex surgeries like the Whipple — a procedure that lasts 8 to 12 hours for pancreatic cancer. It is a big surgery, said Carlyle. Without Duane, patients would have to go elsewhere.

Carlyle said they worked well together — seamlessly and in silence. She learned to anticipate what he needed.

“Someone once said we were like synchronized swimmers because we never talked, we just did,” Carlyle said.

Carlyle learned from Duane how to do these surgical procedures and how to treat patients.

“He set an example,” Carlyle said.

He worked closely with a small team and loved the people he worked with in the operating room. He would jokingly punch people in the kidney if he liked them and give bear hugs.

“He will be missed,” Carlyle said.

After Duane performed kidney transplants, he would hand over his check to St. Paul without looking at it, his daughter Susan Hageman said. He was constantly giving money to causes.

He once helped an immigrant who was at-risk of being deported but needed another surgery. Duane wrote to the Embassy and asked them to let him stay for longer for the surgery. The Embassy allowed him, Hageman said.

Helping people was second nature to Duane.

“He saw people as healing stories and he wanted to understand them so he could care better for them,” Hageman said.

He was known for his attentiveness and care for patients. He would often carry a comb and comb the hair of his patients. He made home visits to patients’ homes and dressed their wounds. He would even cut the toenails of elderly patients who couldn’t do it themselves. He would keep patients longer than other doctors might, just to ensure their wellbeing.

Sharing stories

At Duane’s funeral, patients, doctors, friends and family shared memories of him. Held at his church of Marvin Methodist, the service was overflowing with people.

During the funeral, Hageman ran into a former classmate who became a doctor. The classmate told her he became a doctor because of her dad. He tried to model the way he practiced to how Duane practiced.

“I was so touched by that and had no idea and I don’t know how many more stories there are like that,” Hageman said.

There’s no question that Dr. Duane Andrews’ legacy will follow him for years beyond his passing. As his family continues to reflect on his life, they are inviting friends, patients, former co-workers or anyone who encountered Duane to share memories of him online at this link https://tinyurl.com/rememberingduane .