Editor’s note: Time Magazine recently wrote about the devastating shortage of Black doctors in America. In honor of Black History Month, we’re highlighting stories from the “second wave” of Black physicians to practice within Roper St. Francis Healthcare’s hospitals. They share stories of resilience as well as their hopes for a more diverse future in medicine.
After moving to Charleston in 1980, Dr. Sam Hazell met a physician who told him something he would never forget.
“I don’t think you’ll get very far with an accent like that,” the white radiologist said.
Those words were etched into his mind.
But they did not keep him from a long and successful career. Rather, they drove him to forge meaningful connections with his patients and colleagues.
Early inspirations
Dr. Hazell is a retired general surgeon who practiced at Roper Hospital and Bon Secours St. Francis Hospital for thirty years.
He hails from the country of St. Vincent and the Grenadines, which is located 100 miles due west of Barbados. His place of birth is Bequia, the largest of the Grenadine islands.
Two childhood encounters set him on his path to medicine.
The first stemmed from his fascination with Sir Sydney Gun-Munro, the local surgeon.
Dr. Hazell was reminded by a childhood friend that upon seeing the surgeon, he said, “One of these days I’ll be just like ‘The Gun.’”
His grandmother’s half-sister, whom they called Din-Din, also left an impression. When he was just seven years old, she pointed to him and said, “Do you see that one there? That’s the doctor.”
“During my formative years I lived with that lofty remark engraved in my mind,” Dr. Hazell said, “and felt that one day my ambition to become a surgeon would be realized.”
And he did.
He pursued his dream by moving to New York City to live with family and attending The City College of New York. He saved up all his summer’s earnings from his job as a nursing home orderly to apply to 23 different medical schools.
“I probably have a world record for the number of applications turned in,” he said. “Ultimately, I got my heart’s desire.”
He was accepted at Columbia University Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons, where he completed his MD degree. He then pursued his residency in surgery at St. Luke’s Hospital, which is now Mount Sinai Morningside Hospital.
“I loved the challenge of surgery,” Dr. Hazell said. “It is like sticking your hand as far as possible into the lion’s mouth and pulling it back out without being bitten.”
Moving to Charleston
It was through Dr. Allan Rashford that Dr. Hazell came to Charleston in 1980.
Internal Medicine Specialist Dr. Rashford jumpstarted what is now referenced as the “second wave” of Black physicians to practice at Roper Hospital and Bon Secours St. Francis Hospital (formerly known as St. Francis Xavier Hospital). He began recruiting other Black physicians, such as Dr. Hazell and Urologist Dr. Courtney Fisher, to join him in Charleston.
Before then, only a handful of Black physicians had practiced at those hospitals, including Dr. Mitty Lambright, the husband-and-wife duo Drs. Catherine and Turner McCottry, as well as a few others.
“Thank God for them,” Dr. Hazell said. “They were our support.”
Having grown up in St. Vincent, Dr. Hazell was not accustomed to the lingering aftermath of segregation that he experienced in the U.S.
“I was from the Caribbean, where we were so intermixed,” he said. “I would poke fun and tell people I never really knew I was Black until I moved to this country.”
Overcoming challenges
Segregation was outlawed in 1964, but its long-term effects still affected Black physicians and patients in the U.S. decades later.
Though he had not personally seen a white physician mistreat a Black patient, Dr. Hazell had heard stories.
One of his patients in the 1980s, a Black woman, told him about her previous physician, a white man, who refused to touch her.
“She told me he would pull open the door to her room to peep in and wave his hands at her,” he said, “but he wouldn’t touch her.”
Dr. Hazell also reflected on his personal experiences in which the color of his skin affected how others treated him.
His presence in the operating room, for instance, came as a surprise to some white patients.
“A white nurse once pointed out a white patient to me in the recovery room who had told her he never knew there was such a thing as a Black surgeon,” Dr. Hazell said.
But among his colleagues, Dr. Hazell said he did not experience any overt discrimination.
“One of the highlights in practicing here was making dear lifelong friends,” he said. “Not just with Black people, but white people too.”
Caring for all people
As a boy, Dr. Hazell was drawn to the idea of helping people in need throughout the world.
He volunteered his medical expertise in Haiti throughout his 30-year career in Charleston. His wife, a registered nurse, accompanied him on his initial visit to Haiti in 1979. Together they served several hundred people in the mountainous regions of the island.
After retiring from practice in Charleston in 2010, he offered his medical services to the people of St. Vincent for seven years. He did this for little to no pay.
“I can’t tell you the number of people these hands have touched,” Dr. Hazell said. “But my driving force has always been to help others.”
He recalled a particular patient whom he met while working in the Caribbean – a 17-year-old boy with a brain tumor. He called a colleague back in Charleston to see what they could do to help.
With Roper St. Francis Healthcare’s support, the boy and his mother were flown to Roper Hospital, where he received surgery. Dr. Hazell expressed his gratitude.
“Even locally, we were able to take care of the poor so that at no point did we have to turn anyone away,” Dr. Hazell said. “It was pretty amazing.”
Dr. Hazell’s former colleague sung his praises.
“He took care of some of the poorest and sickest patients,” said anesthesiologist Dr. George Gratzick. “And he always did it with a happy heart.”
Hopes for diversity in medicine
Getting young Black children interested in healthcare is critical, Dr. Hazell said.
“I’m not sure I would receive the support if I were to start a practice now because there are so few Black practicing physicians in the Charleston area,” Dr. Hazell said.
Arranging mentors for students, introducing them to healthcare careers and finding ways to support their education are just a few examples of how to inspire a more diverse future generation of healthcare professionals, he suggested.
“Like attracts like,” Dr. Hazell said. “And there’s no question that Black patients benefit from there being more Black doctors.”
Read more: Drs. Kenosha and Dough Gleaton share their story as first-generation doctors in their families and the importance of serving as role models for young African Americans interested in medicine.
Coming full circle
The radiologist that Dr. Hazell met upon arriving in 1980 noted that his strange accent would not bode well for his success in the Lowcountry.
But poetic justice was waiting to have its day.
Years later, Dr. Hazell was asked to eulogize a highly esteemed and well-loved white colleague in the Charleston community.
“I was exceedingly humbled,” Dr. Hazell said. “At the same time, I was especially delighted to do so, for among the honored guests was an individual who sat captive to my delivery – the radiologist.”
During that encounter, diversity had triumphed over bigotry, Dr. Hazell said. “Self-confidence, values from my homeland, supportive physicians and colleagues – Black and white – and friendships with people of all backgrounds made my career in Charleston a most satisfying one,” he said, “despite the radiologist’s prediction.”