Man of many hats
Dr. Christopher Hull, a parishioner at St. Andrew Church in Fort Worth, has a collection of hats from around the world. (NTC/Richard Rodriguez)
A hat tells a lot about the person wearing it. It can signal someone’s occupation, heritage, team affiliations, or personal style.
But for Dr. Christopher Hull, walking into an examination room sporting a full Native American headdress, a World War II helmet, or a brightly festooned Mardi Gras fedora is more than just a quirky form of self-expression. Over the years, the retired orthopedic surgeon used his eclectic 2,400-plus collection of headgear to build rapport with patients who were often anxious and in pain. Hats became part of the healing process.
“When I walk into an exam room wearing a silly hat according to the day’s designation (like National Popcorn Day), it breaks the ice and puts a person at ease. We have something else to talk about,” said the osteopath who grew up in Canyon, Texas. “If I wear a hat from someone’s native country, they get really excited. It probably brightens their day and increases endomorphines and cortisol levels. If you’re happy, you feel better.”
A St. Andrew parishioner who converted to Catholicism after marrying his wife, Karen, Dr. Hull’s fascination with hats is rooted in childhood. His grandparents sang opera in Italy, and he remembers playing with their hats, stored in an uncle’s room, as a youngster. He started his own collection in 1995 when a patient gave him a Russian soldier’s garrison hat from the Soviet-Afghan War.
“I wore it around the office during the day. People would come in, I’d introduce myself and ask, ‘How can I help you?’” the physician said, recalling one memorable remark. “A patient told me, Doc, my back is killing me but why are you wearing that hat?”
It was so much fun and opened the lines of communication so easily, that Dr. Hull began wearing a comical or thought-provoking hat one day a week. Before long, both patients and office staff were asking to see the hats more often and the hobby grew.
A growing collection
“Patients started bringing me hats,” he explained. “About 80 percent of the hats were given to me. The other 20 percent I found on trips or by going to antique malls.”
The extensive assortment of crowns, military caps, and bowlers includes some intriguing finds. There’s a Don Quixote helmet/shaving basin, ceremonial hats from Vietnam, and a cap signed by Admiral Pete “Viper” Pettigrew, a naval aviator who inspired the movie “Top Gun”. The latter was a gift from an injured Navy Seal.
A hat worn in the movie “Titanic” and a Native American “roach” headdress, made by Jim Bonnetmaker who made feathered headpieces for the movie “Dances with Wolves” are other conversation starters.
Faith and medicine
Dr. Hull dedicated a wall in his medical office to Texas history and one pioneer in particular.
The University of Texas graduate is a direct descendant of Erastus “Deaf” Smith who, despite severe hearing loss, served as spy, scout, and guide to Sam Houston’s army during the Texas Revolution. Like his distant relative, Deaf Smith was also a Catholic convert.
Catholicism persisted in Dr. Hull’s maternal bloodline for several generations until his grandmother began attending a Presbyterian church.
His wife, Karen, is a cradle Catholic from New Orleans. Converting so they could raise their four children in the faith together “is a decision I’ve never regretted,” he said. The couple are longtime members of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem — a lay organization dedicated to promoting the faith and upholding the rights of Christians in the Holy Land.
Faith was an important part of his medical practice.
“I always asked for His help and guidance, and you’d be surprised how often He gives it to me,” the specialist said, explaining his relationship with Jesus, the Great Physician. “I was very aware of His presence while doing surgery.”
As a knight of the Holy Sepulchre, the black velvet beret and white wool cape with red Jerusalem cross Dr. Hull wears to ceremonial events is treasured apparel, but his prized possession is another Church-related item.
A treasured exchange
During a 2006 pilgrimage to the Holy Land and Rome with his wife and former Fort Worth Bishop Kevin Vann, Dr. Hull had the opportunity to exchange zucchettos with Pope Benedict XVI. He purchased the white skull cap from the shop where they’re made and brought it to the papal audience in St. Peter’s Square.
“Pope Benedict came around, picked up a baby to kiss it, and I held out the hat. We all yelled, ‘Cambio Papa, cambio Papa,’ which means ‘change’ in Italian,” Dr. Hull remembered. “So he took the zucchetto out of my hand, looked me right in the eye, and gave me the zucchetto off his head.”
The skull cap is one acquisition the collector has never worn, remaining in a sealed plexiglass case.
A biretta and bishop’s miter are displayed next to the kippahs worn at Jewish services. A nurse working in Sudan also sent him a crown made of thorns similar to the one Christ wore.
Part of the healing process
After collecting hats and amusing patients with them for 47 years, Dr. Hull, now retired, is still looking for ways his hobby can benefit others. Some pieces are slated for a military museum and others will go to a collector in Rochester, New York.
Kid-oriented hats will go to the local Welman Project for use in classrooms and school plays. The nonprofit repurposes surplus business materials and offers free supplies to teachers.
“They’re not just hats; they’re stories,” said the hobbyist, who wrote an 800-page digital catalog describing the more interesting pieces. “A hat tells people who you are, what you think, and what mood you’re in.”
So what does collecting hats and wearing them for his patients say about Dr. Hull?
“It says I have a good attitude and wanted to entertain them,” he commented.
Faith, humor, and connection are all part of the healing process, “and I wanted my patients to have the best result possible.”