Tim Doughtie | Share the Love...

Dear friends,

This site is dedicated to Tim Doughtie and his family. We are collecting stories and pictures of your experiences with this remarkable man to share with other friends.

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Click below to learn more about how Tim changed our world.

Matt Doughtie

Grace Doughtie

Collins Doughtie

The Memorial Service for Tim Doughtie
A Meditation by John M. Miller

Phil Porter | Photos from Phil

Maggie Rojas Westbury

Jennifer Asnip Quattlebaum

Elizabeth Breeze, England

What on earth is the world going to do without Tim? He played such an important role in my family's life, during our years on Hilton Head and beyond. How sad I am that I never told him how much he meant to us and how very much we loved him.

I well remember the first time we met. a local church asked Betsy and Tim to welcome a newly-arrived English mother and two young children into their home for tea. I had visions of the three of us nibbling finger sandwiches, politely listening to an elderly couple talking about Sunday School, whilst watching the clock, hoping to make a quick getaway. Betsy remembered me hauling two unwilling children up the front steps of what appeared to be a fairly normal house. Little did we know what we were in for! Videos of Phart-o-Phonics, complete with Tim's impromtu demo on the Infafeeder, tales of Rumples, the surfing superdog and the arrival on my lap of a large, furry guinea pig who proceeded to eat the came crumbs off my plate! Thus began a wonderful friendship with the Doughtie family that I shall cherish forever.

Tim's gifts to me were boundless; true friendship, infinite kindness, understand, wisdom and huge doses of laughter. His advice, requested or not, always came from the heart of a man who cared for our family's wellbeing. I knew that no matter what, I could always count on Tim for encouragement, a shoulder to cry on and a morale-bost when times were difficult.

Tim's humor was legendary and of course, I could not escape it! I'd undergone major surgery shortly after meeting the D's, as my son calls them, and almost burst my stitches in hospital when Tim showed up, dressed in an old-fashioned surgical gown, with a huge mirror strapped around his forehead. Speaking in a foreign accent and calling himself something like Dr. Dumplestreuser, he attempted to wind my bed up and down until an astonished nurse removed him! The Doughtie's kindly took my son Kevin into their home during my hospital stay and when Tim returned to my hospital room in a more serious mood, he gently asked that he and Betsy be allowed to take care of my children in the event something ever happened to me, as I had no family in the U.S.

Tim developed a wonderful relationship with Kevin, as he and Matthew became the best of friends and remain so to this day. When Kevin was close to driving age, he was like a racehorse at the gate, counting the hours until he could get his license. Money was tight, a second car was out of the question and I had no intention of allowing my son to own a car at such a young age. Kevin was persistent and proudly announced that he had, in fact, found the perfect, affordable solution; the lovely British Mini parked in the driveway across from our house in Point Comfort, which the owner had reluctantly agreed to part with for the princely sum of $200. I pointed out that this rusting, flat-tired heap of junk had not run in years but to a teenager desperate to freewheel down Hwy. 278, this car had POTENTIAL! In desperation, I called Tim, in the hope that he would be able to dampen Kevin's enthusiasm. He arrived shortly thereafter and inspected the offending vehicle whilst patiently listening to Kevin expounding on its virtues. This was Tim at his absolute best. in those dulcet tones we all know so well, he noted the mildewed, roach-infested upholstery, chewed to pieces by vermin entering through the broken windows; looked thoughtfully at the hole in the floor on the driver's side, which exposed the driveway below and marveled at how much household junk could be stored in such a tiny car. Never once did Tim make Kevin seem foolish to wish for such a vehicle. Instead, he arranged for his friend Jimmy Glynn, purveyor of Rolls Royces formerly owned by Maharajas, to have the Mini towed away for inspection, promising Kevin a frank, honest evaluation. Tim suggested that if the costs of repair would be prohibitive, Kevin might think about saving towards the purchase of something more roadworthy and attractive. What class! What a wonderful friend! Goodbye forever, you horrid little Mini!

Tim's greatest gift to me was his immense love for Kevin and the guiding hand he offered throughout my son's life. He was a father-figure, mentor, ally, playmate and political debating partner (always on opposing sides, I believe!) How sad that as Kevin is about to become a father for the first time, Tim won't be around to share in the joy and fun of the next generation.

Blessings from across the sea to Betsy and Matthew. Thank you for sharing dear Tim with all of us.