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The presentation of the 2023 Lifetime Commitment to Healthcare Award to Dr. Linus J. Adams on Friday was a mix of medical humor and utmost respect by his community peers.

Adams, a board-certified gastroenterologist, has been practicing medicine in Morristown for 21 years. He graduated from the University of Guadalajara, Mexico in 1978. He followed that by completing a three-year internal medicine residency at Akron City Hospital, Akron Ohio and a two-year gastroenterology at the University of Kentucky Medical Center in Lexington, Kentucky.

He passed his boards during that fellowship – so, Gala Emcee Jackie Murray (Covenant Health Patient Experience Coach) said, “They had to kick him out of the fellowship to find something to do with him, so they hired him.”

Adams practiced there for three years before moving to Knoxville and setting up practice at the University of Tennessee Medical Center where he practiced for the next 14 years.

In 2002, Adams moved to Morristown and set up his private practice – “We have been blessed with his genius ever since,” Murray said.”

Adams didn’t attend college; he was accepted into medical schools straight out of high school. Murray didn’t share the list of clerkships, internships, externships, academic appointments, publications, awards and other accomplishments contained within Adam’s physician’s CV or curriculum vitae (last updated in 2011) because, she said, “We would be here for hours.”

He was the recipient of the Compassionate Doctor Recognition Award in 2011 and in 2018. He received the Patients Choice Award in 2018.

“Those are important because that speaks to his character,” Murray said. When talking to surgery nurses, floor nurses and other staff members at the hospital, and to the staff at Butts and Guts Gastroenterology, his private practice, they talk about his amazing respect, concern, compassion and caring for his patients.

“If you’ve ever spent two minutes with him, you’ve felt that and recognized it.”

“He speaks to people on their level; he always makes people feel comfortable, always sits down to speak to them, he’s approachable, he’s quick to do the right thing for his patients.”

Nurse comments included “he’s not timely (that’s an understatement, Murray added) – but he’s apologetic about it and spends as much as time as needed with the patient. The funny thing is, they always walk away saying, ‘he was worth the wait.’

The staff on 3 North refers to him as “The Beard of Knowledge.’’

According to staff, Adams has saved a number of lives with his diagnostic capabilities, many of whom are friends or members of their families. He is sent pediatric patients by the staff at Children’s Hospital. One nine-year-old was taken to numerous physicians until properly diagnosed by Adams with a gall bladder issue that was resolved with surgery by Dr. Tom Thompson. Patients travel from all over the United States to see him.

“He’s brilliant, he’s humble, he’s funny,” Murray added. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, but he certainly does take caring for his patients seriously.”

During his early years, the Adams uniform was dress pants, shirt and tie, sports coat, clean shave and short, neat hair. But after several years of portraying something that really wasn’t his true self, Murray said he decided: “I’m tired of all the academic ‘B.S.’ I’m going to be myself. I’m going to be more relaxed, because it’s about patient care, not appearances.”

“And now look at him,” Murray teased. “He’s usually in jeans, biker boots, some old shirt and jacket, long hair, old cap – he’s got a cap on tonight, crazy long beard.”

The more casual appearance has led to a bit of profiling. He’s been assumed to be a confused family member who wandered into a nurse’s station, a janitor, or ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons. After arriving at the venue for a GI conference where he was to be the guest speaker, a concerned citizen called security and Adams was followed by officers from the parking garage all the way to the meeting room. After his credentials were verified, he invited the officers to dine with him and the other conference participants.

The word ‘fart’ is more than just a medical term for Adams, as Thompson concurred when he stepped to the podium just prior to presenting Adams with the award.

“I am not qualified nor prepared to talk about Dr. Adams appropriately,” Thompson said before indulging the audience in few medical jokes related to Adams’ field of practice that could not be repeated in this particular article.

“I’ve known Dr. Adams since ’88, when I was a sniveling little medical student. But it didn’t mean he didn’t pay attention to me. I have considered him a mentor rather than a colleague ever since then,” Thompson said.

Thompson hinted about, but did not divulge the details of, the story of how Morristown snared Adams away from a graduate school of medicine – while mentioning the words “neighborhood association,” “Northshore Drive,” “boat” and “cinder blocks.”

“Their loss is definitely our gain,” Thompson said. “And you know that you’re dealing with somebody who’s got skills when you see colleagues in day surgery, lined up for him.”

Thompson recalled that after Adams arrived in town, former attending physicians from UT were spotted at MHHS, including the Chief of Trauma, the Chief of General Surgery and more.

“I have been honored to do gall bladders that were transferred from Duke, from Emory and from Vandy,” Thompson said, recalling radio contact made to MHHS by an ambulance driver needing directions from Atlanta. He joked that he could tell colleagues that he had performed surgeries on these transfers, but would have to concede that they were all patients sent to Adams for diagnosis.

Thompson also recalled when the endoscopic ultrasound was a new procedure to medicine.

“There are a limited number of people who even know how to look at that, much less operate it, and at the time there were three prototypes in the country. One was at Tulane, one was at Long Beach and one was at Morristown-Hamblen,” he said. “He’s got a unique set of skills and he’s never been afraid to embrace technology, but never lose his old-school diagnostic and scientific skills and that has made him a tremendous mentor, a tremendous physician for those who are in need – and he’s been tremendous for our community. He’s the living example of the kind of care that we should all aspire to give.

“He probably has the highest IQ of anyone I have ever met that says ‘fart’ as many times as he has. It’s quite remarkable,” Thompson said, adding that renowned physician Howard Filston, founding Chief of Pediatric Surgery at Duke, considered Adams to be the smartest medicine doctor he knew.

Taking the stage following a standing ovation, Adams was visibly moved by the recognition.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a position like this before,” he said. “To be honest with you, all this almost brought a tear to my eye.” After his colleagues responded, – he said, “now don’t you give me an ‘awe.’

“I just want to say there’s no way I could have done this without the sacrifices we all make when choosing this profession, but especially the ones that didn’t have a choice. That’s my kids, my wife, my family … they’re the ones that suffered. I just want to say thank you and that I love the community; you all have been very supportive of me.”