A Teacher Always. A Cougar Forever

It was a term of endearment, and he loved the fact that folks young and old felt comfortable enough to address him by the nickname that became his identity.
    
It was also a statement of respect. After all, the longtime Collegiate School English teacher who retired in 2014 earned a PhD in English Literature at the University of South Carolina, so he was certainly entitled to the honorific, even if it was abbreviated.

“Abbreviated” is the point, actually. Not Doctor. Just Doc. No fluff. No pretense. What you saw was what you got.

“He loved being called ‘Doc,’” said Deborah, his wife of 11 years and a Collegiate Middle School Spanish teacher from 1992 until her retirement in 2020. “He felt like it brought him on a level of equality with everyone. He wasn’t Dr. Hailes, the stuffy professor. He was just one of the guys.”

On May 22, Doc passed away peacefully after suffering complications from a fall. He was 81 years old. Over the past few weeks, friends have shared myriad Doc Hailes stories, many of which have elicited smiles and even laughter. To be remembered fondly and with humor would no doubt please him immensely.

A native of Tenafly, NJ, Doc first set eyes on the Collegiate campus in the fall of 1965 when he was an assistant football coach at Fork Union Military Academy. That one glimpse was all he needed. There was something about the culture, ambiance, and hospitality along North Mooreland Road that spoke loudly and clearly to him, so he applied for a position as a teacher and coach.

“The story goes that when Buck Pitt called him to offer him the job, he was in his car on the way to Collegiate before he even hung up the phone,” said Doc’s son Brent Hailes, referencing Malcolm U. Pitt Jr, then head of the Boys School. “When he arrived at Collegiate, he was looking for a family. He felt like he had a lot to give. He just needed to find a place to give it.”

Doc served as an English teacher and coach for two years, left to pursue advanced degrees, taught a year at VCU, then returned in 1976 and remained for the duration. His career officially spanned 40 years. His affection for the institution spanned, well, forever.

“Both his parents died before he was 21,” Deborah said. “He found stability at Collegiate. It became his life. He felt love there. He felt beloved. He just adored the place.

“After he retired, the first thing he’d ask me when I got home was, ‘What’s the news at Collegiate?’ He read the sports page every morning to check the scores of all the teams. Even when he was in the hospital, he wanted to know what was going on at Collegiate.”

Doc had quite a memory for details, many of them related to the Cougars’ athletic exploits.

He knew every (player’s) number,” Deborah said. “If we were out to dinner, at least two or three people would come up to him, and he’d say, ‘Who threw that pass for the touchdown you scored to win us the game in 1992?’ The day before he died, (his friend) Wortie Ferrell asked him, ‘Doc, what’s your best Collegiate sports memory?’ As weak as he was, in a hospital bed, he whispered, ‘Beating Woodberry Forest 14-7 in 1988.’ It was amazing to me that he could be so alert in his final hours and still cherish the memories of the school he loved.”

The venue notwithstanding, Doc was always a rapt spectator when his three children (Brent ’89, Sarah ’89, and Roger ’94) and Brent’s children (Brent ’22 and Harper ’24) competed.

“He couldn’t get enough,” his son Brent said. “I don’t think he ever missed any of my games or my brother’s or sister’s games. I remember, especially in football, if kids got on the bus early for a road trip, he would grab two or three of them and say, ‘Make sure you call me when you get home so I know the score. I can’t wait until Saturday to read it in the newspaper.’ He was absolutely passionate.”

He was no less passionate about imparting knowledge and sharing wisdom (and humor) in his classroom.

“His mother was an English teacher, and he was always an avid reader,” Deborah said. “He wanted every book he read to teach him something, and he wanted to relay that knowledge to young people. He always said you have to have conversations with young people so when they become adults, they know how to talk to people. You can’t expect kids to become productive citizens if you don’t connect with them. He did love the students.”

Though he left the classroom seven years ago, his dedication to Collegiate never waned.

Doc remained a regular at sporting events (both home and away) and performances in Oates Theater, he found joy in showing off the campus to out-of-town friends or just driving by to check things out, and he always supported, often in person, Deborah’s extra-curricular endeavors, among them Cougar Enterprises and an exchange program with students from Colegio Carol Baur in Mexico City.

“One day, he got locked out of the house and came to school to get my keys,” she recalled. “I was teaching a class, and he sat in the back. Afterwards, he went, ‘It’s unbelievable what Middle School teachers do. I never realized the impact you have on kids, helping them with preparation and organization. He was interested in every aspect. He was always learning.”

During the pandemic, Doc and Deborah assumed the responsibility of teaching Gibson and Annie Hurst, the children (ages 6 and 8 when they began) of Deborah’s son Bo, Collegiate class of ’01.

“Roger taught Gibson how to read,” Deborah said. “He would take him into his office for 30 to 45 minutes. He had him read books about history, about Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson and Pocahontas. He had him read a paragraph, and they’d discuss what he learned. He told him, ‘Gibson, if you can explain what you’ve read to someone, you’ll never forget it.’”

Always a teacher, you see, and a Cougar forever.

“He loved Collegiate,” Deborah said. “Even the coaster he put his coffee cup on said, ‘Collegiate 1915.’ Anything involving Collegiate, the man was on it.”
  ~Weldon Bradshaw