That Horrendous Hacking (Doc Holliday)

That Horrendous Hacking

 the rib-rattling cough that helped turn Doc Holliday’s

sights from tooth extraction to handgun action

The squirming patient knew the next few minutes would not rank among the highpoints of his life.  He had previously left teeth and money behind at other Dallas, Texas dentist offices.  Despite their advertisements of “painless” dentistry, he was quite certain that he had recognized the sensation as their pliers liberated one of his molars.  Yes, there was no doubt about it, it was most assuredly pain.

But this new dentist, Doctor John Holliday, had inadvertently discovered a way to keep his patients' minds off their looming extractions.  The anxiety caused by his ominous dental tools paled when compared to that created by the dentist holding them.  The terrified patient didn’t know anything about the requirements for practicing dentistry, but he was quite certain they didn’t include the persistent room-shaking cough his new dentist possessed. 

Needless to say, that opinion was soon shared by others.  Folks didn’t expect sparkling sterile surroundings for their medical procedures in those days.  After all, the beaten up old medical bags doctors toted into houses were often pretty dusty from the ride.  And emergency bullet removal might be performed on a bed that had previously held a travel-worn cowboy who might or might not have taken off his mud-caked boots before retiring.  But opening your mouth wide for a dentist with a wracking tubercular cough; no, even the wild westerners weren't wild about that.

Predictably, as word spread, the young dentist’s patient list shrank by the day.  It was a shame because Holliday was seemingly headed toward a successful career in dentistry.  As a teenager, he had been devastated by his mother’s death from “consumption” as tuberculosis was then known.  To combat his depression, he poured his energy into his studies and rose to the top of his class.  Later he enrolled in the Pennsylvania College of  Dental Surgery, founded by his cousin, Robert Holliday.  Not only did he graduate, but did so five months short of his twenty-first birthday.  Before long, he and a dental partner would even win awards at a county fair for their dental craftsmanship, including “best set of artificial teeth and dental ware.”  Yes, it looked as if the young professional would surely develop a thriving dental practice.  Fate, however, was already plotting to prevent that.

The obstruction to Holliday’s medical future would appear in the form of the same disease that had taken his mother from him.  After graduating, he apprenticed with a dentist in St. Louis, then moved to Atlanta to set up practice.  Sadly, he was also diagnosed with consumption.  In a split second, his view changed from the vision of a thriving professional career to the morose face of a physician telling him he likely had only months to live.Striving to add something positive to the diagnosis, Holliday’s doctor told him that a dryer, warmer climate might slow the progression of the disease. 

Taking his advice, Holliday relocated to Dallas, Texas. Unfortunately, though the move did indeed slow up the deterioration from the disease, the deep nerve-shattering cough he had already developed, followed him to Texas.  As one after another of his patients decided to search for a less contagious tooth-puller, Doc Holliday’s dwindling income clearly called for a second job.  He didn’t need to look any further than the local saloons to find that supplementary paycheck.  Fortunately, his second-income career of a hard-drinking gambler fit him like a glove. 

Poker and Faro caught his attention and Holliday quickly became proficient at both.Soon, he decided to travel from town-to-town to practice his card-playing skills.  According to most sources, he quickly developed another skill…cheating.  This, of course, didn’t endear him to those who frequented his gaming tables.  In fact, despite his refined manner and an education which included a fluency in Latin and Greek, he wasn’t well received in most towns. During a stay in Las Vegas, New Mexico, for example, a reporter at the local paper gave him a rather scathing review.  Noting that Holliday was a “shiftless, bagged-legged character,” the reporter concluded that he was “not a wit too refined to rob stages or even steal sheep.”

Stealing sheep might not have captured his interest, but fleecing the poor suckers who sat down at his Faro table, now that was another thing.  Now and then, someone would catch on to his cheating and pull out a gun.  When they did, the good doctor’s reflexes, as well as his nickel-plated .41 caliber Colt Thunderer, snapped into action.  More than once, he shot the gun out of the complainer’s hand, creating a rapid and lasting attitude adjustment. 

Another name that would stand beside his in Western history, was that of a free-spirited Hungarian lady, forever branded with the less-than-flattering nickname of Big Nose Kate.  Mary Katherine Haroney spent a decade in an off-and-on relationship with Holliday.  In addition to the prominent curve of her nose, which earned her nickname, she also had, as one historian put it, “other prominent curves.”  Although Kate was well educated, she shunned sophisticated society for the more adventurous lifestyle of a dancehall girl and part-time prostitute.  Historians debate the issue, but many feel she accompanied Doc to Tombstone, where the gunfight at the O. K. Corral would etch both Doc and Kate’s names into Western folklore.

That thirty second 1881 gunfight has been described with hundreds of thousands of words that have catapulted both the Earp brothers and Doc Holliday to legendary status.  The conflict has been dramatized in countless books, television shows and silver-screen portrayals.  Yes, as hot lead flew from the sawed-off shotgun Virgil Earp had given him to hide under his long coat, John Henry “Doc” Holliday secured his spot in history.  That spot, however, might have only contained a brief note about an award-winning Western dentist, if it hadn’t been for that horrendous hacking.