Dr. Edward Martin was a man
of principle
Rex Rhoades is executive editor.
His e-mail address is: rrhoades@sunjournal.com
In 1957, John F. Kennedy published ìProfiles in Courageî and won the Pulitzer Prize for biography. He told the stories of eight men of principle
who stood by what they saw as the truth despite coercion and vilification
by their peers.
If JFK were alive today, Iíd like to think he
would have admired Dr. Edward Martin of Rumford.
ìDoc,î as he was called locally, certainly knew
the extremes of the human condition. Over his 40 years in practice, he
ushered 2,500 newborn babies into this world, and he probably helped just
as many friends and neighbors cross that final divide between this world
and the next.
Last week Doc himself completed his earthly journey
and died quietly at home.
Life is full of mean little ironies, and Doc fell
victim to one. He spent a good part of his career trying to warn his people,
his community, about cancer. And, in the end, cancer got him too.
Doc Martin will be remembered many ways. First,
perhaps, as the kind of doctor they donít make any more. He was the classic
general practitioner who would jump out of bed at night, grab his black
bag and run to somebodyís house to care for a feverish child or a dying
grandmother.
But Doc also will be remembered as a tenacious
adversary, the man who first dared to draw a direct line between the townís
large paper mill and the deadly cancers he was treating.
To many people, Doc was a loudmouth, a troublemaker
and a dangerous radical who dared to shake the economic pillars of his
community.
In the 1970s, Doc began speaking out about paper
mills, pollution and cancer. And for the next 30 years he never stopped.
In part, his words hurt Rumford and its image.
The town gained the unfortunate moniker of ìCancer Valley.î
But thereís more.
In the 1882s, Norwegian Henrik Ibsen wrote a play
about another doctor, Thomas Stockman, who returns to his hometown as medical
adviser to the natural healing baths that draw visitors, and money, to
the community.
After two years of careful investigation, Dr.
Stockman concludes that the baths are really cesspools and that they threaten
the health of the people who pay for their supposedly medicinal qualities.
Stockmanís brother, Peter, is the townís mayor
and chairman of the board of directors of the baths.
The play, ìEnemy of the People,î pits Dr. Stockman
against his brother and the economic and political powers of the community.
Against his brotherís advice, Dr. Stockman goes public with his dire warnings.
At one point, the mayor admonishes him: ìYouíve
an ingrained propensity for going your own way. And that, in a well-ordered
community, is dangerous. The individual must submit himself to the whole
community or, to speak more correctly, bow to the authority that watches
over the welfare of all.î
Dr. Stockman eventually is chased by a mob and
branded the ìenemy of the people.î
Defeated but unbowed, Dr. Stockman speaks these
now famous lines: ìI donít see any man free and brave enough to dare the
TruthÖ The strongest man is he who stands most alone.î
Those words are as true today as they were 150
years ago, and Dr. Edward Martinís life was certainly living proof of their
relevancy.
When it seemed reckless and unwise to do so, Doc
Martin said and did the unthinkable ó he spoke truth to power.
Love him or hate him, he recognized the truth
before it was known, he spoke the truth before it was expedient to do so,
and he stood his ground long after most men would have given up and moved
on.
Did he win? Well, look at it this way: Medical
science has dramatically affirmed his point of view. The mill is cleaner
and emits far fewer toxins than it did 30 years ago. And there is little
doubt that the next 2,500 babies born in Rumford will grow up to enjoy
cleaner air, cleaner water and longer lives.
Is the world now a perfect place? No, and it never
will be. Has cancer been defeated or pollution eliminated? Not yet.
But is Rumford a better place because Doc Martin
had the courage to stand alone?
There is little doubt. |