- Dr. Donald Kent: In every doctor, there's the hope that if something terrible must happen, he can be on the scene. The accident was one happening of its kind, in a period of many years. But that's not what is meant by the practice of medicine. You all know that I have confined myself to the more interesting phases of medicine and surgery. I have deliberately avoided as much of the unpleasant work as I could. Dr. Walton - a much older man than myself - came to me, with the suggestion that he handle such calls as I was unwilling to take. I thought at first that... well, maybe he was in need of the extra money he'd make that way; but I was wrong. Dr. Walton has never accepted a cent from me - or from any of my patients that he's attended... It was only recently that I began to ask myself why. Why did he make those long, tiring trips at night, that he knew, even better than I, that the patient usually could easily wait 'til the next day? Why? You see... it was something that I didn't quite understand. When a patient called me in the middle of the night, it was because he was frightened. His family was frightened. They were frightened by something they didn't understand. What they needed was something more than medical help - they needed sympathy and reassurance; I never gave it to them. But that is what Dr. Walton has always given to them. He has given you far more than his medical knowledge; he has given you a feeling of security when you needed it. I gave you one day... I'm thankful that I could. But how about Dr. Walton? He has given you his whole life.
- [last lines]
- Dr. Donald Kent: [presenting his plaque to Dr. Walton, as banquet guests applaud] Thank you, Uncle Joe.
- Joyce Carter: [narrating] In spite of everyone's goodwill and eagerness to make him one of them, he was still so impersonal, so aloof. What a pity. What a real pity.
- Dr. Donald Kent: I have no intention of working myself to a state of exhaustion chasing after imaginary illnesses at all hours of the night. I'm not unsympathetic, doctor - but I don't want to become a slave to my patients.
- Dr. Joseph H. Walton: OK, son - I've got a suggestion. Now, don't misunderstand this.
- Dr. Donald Kent: Yes?
- Dr. Joseph H. Walton: You already have more practice than you can handle. How about... when you get night calls you don't want to take, how about letting me handle them for you?
- Dr. Donald Kent: But that's ridiculous! You're the senior doctor. I should be taking work off *your* shoulders, not you off mine.
- Dr. Joseph H. Walton: I knew you'd see it that way; you see, we practice medicine differently. I'd *like* to do what I suggested - seems like it would make us both happier.
- [first lines]
- Joyce Carter: [narrating] The sign said Joseph H. Walton, M.D., but everybody in Watertown called him Uncle Joe; he was that kind of man, and Watertown was that kind of town - quiet, and friendly. Uncle Joe was as much taken for granted as the post office. He had brought most of the Watertown babies into the world, and guided them through childhood ailments. I was one of them. The first anyone knew that a new doctor was coming to town was when an ad appeared in the local paper - it was for a nurse.
- Joyce Carter: [narrating] It was the same thing with each patient. He always let it be understood, in unmistakable terms, that he wasn't to be summoned unless it was a genuine emergency - especially late at night. Some of the old-timers would've resented Dr. Kent - if Uncle Joe would have permitted it.