Dr. Robert Morris Gray Sr.

He is survived by his sons, David R. Gray (Kathy) of Sylacauga, Robert M. Gray, Jr. (Kim) of Bergen, Norway, and James W. Gray (Marnie) of Mountain Brook; as well as his grandchildren Andrew “Liam” Gray, Emma Gray, Virginia Gray, Anne Warren Gray, and Robert “Rocco” Gray.

He was preceded in death by his son, Andrew Carwile Gray; his mother, Cornelia Bryars Gray; his father, James E. Gray, Jr.; his sister, Alice Gray McLendon; and his brothers, James E. Gray, III, and Tunstall Randolph Gray.

Dr. Gray grew up in the Central Park neighborhood of Birmingham, and attended West End High School, Birmingham-Southern College, and the University of Alabama School of Medicine.

He served the Sylacauga community as a pediatrician for over 50 years, “raising,” in his words, most of the people who have grown up there. Admired by the community and his profession, he has been recognized as a “Master Pediatrician” by Children’s Hospital of Alabama, an “Alabama Health Care Hero” by the Alabama Hospital Association, and several “Master Preceptor” awards for his excellence in training new pediatricians. More importantly, he loved his patients, and they loved him.

He also had a wide range of interests and hobbies, including fishing, golf, tennis, sailing, canoeing, and cooking. He loved listening to music, especially classical music, and played guitar, banjo, violin, and cello. He loved painting, especially watercolors, and was rather accomplished at it. He loved reading of all kinds, but particularly poetry, loving especially the poems of William Butler Yeats. He loved making beer and wine. He loved good food, good drink, and good friends. He loved his sons, his extended family, his patients, their families, his coworkers, friends, and his community.

He was giant man, standing 6’6” and possessing a commanding yet gentle presence. He was also a man of few words. At his Master Pediatrician award ceremony some twenty years ago, there was an expectation that he would give a speech. The recipient who went before him spoke for several minutes, but when Dr. Gray ambled to the podium, he simply mumbled, “Oh, I’m just an old country doc, thank you,” and then hurried back to his seat.

And while he didn’t tend to talk much, he was an exceptional listener, able to hear both what was said and left unsaid, which may have been the key to his success as a pediatrician—an uncanny ability to hear more than what was, or even could be, spoken.

He was a physician, medicine man, healer, and man of science, but there was also something mystical in his craft. He could diagnose patients over the phone better than many doctors can in person. He could also, famously, conjure warts away.

He was deeply humble and never liked attention. He was dignified but informal, respectful but a tad irreverent. He was imperfect, certainly no saint, but goodness emanated from him. He was, in short and without exaggeration, a great man, one of the best most of us will be blessed to know.

In lieu of a large funeral, he insisted on a very intimate gathering of only immediate family. He wished for all of us to show caring and kindness to each other, and to stop by his resting place for a quiet moment of reflection at your convenience. Rather than sending flowers, Dr. Gray has asked to be remembered through gifts to either Alabama Childhood Food Solutions or Saint Jude Children’s Research Hospital.