Meet the Team : Eric
WHO - Eric Reynolds
TITLE - Audiologist
HOMETOWN - Richardson, Texas
WHEN - with Cross Timbers ENT for 20 years
I’m a native Texan born and raised in Richardson. I earned a Masters degree in Speech and Hearing Science from Texas Tech University (Go Red Raiders!) and a Doctoral degree in Audiology from the University of Florida (Go Gators!). I’ve been practicing Audiology for 33 years. I find the profession of Audiology rewarding because everyday I have the privilege of making a difference in the lives of others.
I believe that a person’s connection to others and to the world is what matters most in life. Unfortunately, hearing loss weakens those connections. That’s why I strive, through the practice of Audiology, to help individuals connect, reconnect, and stay connected to the people and things that matter most to them.
When not providing hearing care, I enjoy spending time with my beloved wife and four children. A few of my favorite things include: early morning Bible quiet time and Sunday church service; watching and playing football and baseball; listening to music and building my record collection; reading and passing time in Barnes & Noble; watching classic movies; photography; bird watching; antique shopping; fellowship and coffee at Starbucks; cooking breakfast; and dining out.
“Love doesn’t die.
People do.
So, when all that’s
left of me
Is love,
Give me away. ”
10 THINGS ABOUT ME
1. I was named after my dad’s best friend. When he (my dad’s friend) passed away years ago his wife gifted me his WWII issued leather Air Force flight jacket. It looks good hanging in my closet. It does not look good on me. I say it’s too small, too tight. My wife says I’m too big.
2. I’m a native Texan, born and raised in Richardson. I had a wonderful childhood. Grew up with three older brothers and a little sister. We spent a lot of time outside, with many friends, riding bikes and playing games such as tackle the man with the ball, spotlight, and hot box. Every Fourth of July, we would go to the fireworks stands, buy a ton of bottle rockets, and have bottle rocket wars. Back then the houses all had wood shingle roofs. Every year we were reminded bottle rockets and wood shingles were not meant for each other. We came to know the fire marshal well.
3. My dad wanted to make sure I developed a strong work ethic and appreciation for the value of a dollar earned. He paid me an allowance for scooping dog poop and mowing the lawn. Once he offered to pay me 10 cents per pound to pull weeds. I made sure I left as much dirt on the roots as possible. Turned out my ill conceived strategy didn’t serve me well. He used it as an opportunity to teach me a lesson about honesty. He made me shake off all the dirt and dropped the pay to 5 cents per pound.
4. My dad, an Ohio State University alum, had a wood paddle with the signatures of all his Alpha Tau Omega fraternity brothers on it. My brothers and I often got in trouble. After years of “tanning our hide” with that paddle, most of the signatures were worn completely off. Once grown, we joked that those signatures were tattooed on our rear ends for life.
5. I love football. American football. Being a dyed in the wool Ohio State Buckeye, my dad made sure I spent my Saturdays every fall cutting my teeth on Woody Hayes football. Great memories. I never got to go to a Buckeye game in Ohio with my dad. He passed away in 2014. It became a bucket list game for me. I drove to Ohio in November 2018, by myself, and attended a game.
6. Politics was top of mind in my house growing up. My dad served on the Richardson ISD school board, the city council, then later served two terms in Austin as a State Representative. Many activities and many discussions focused on politics through the years. Although I admire my dad for his years of public service, I loathe politics.
7. After graduating from HS, I went to Texas Tech to pursue a degree in Range and Wildlife Management. I wanted to be a waterfowl biologist. I loved ducks and geese then. Still do. One of the toughest courses I took was Range Plant Identification. I didn’t care for soil science and having to memorize the common, genus, and species names of 150 range plants. After three years of monitoring a dismal job outlook, I changed my major to Speech & Hearing Science with an emphasis in Audiology. I minored in Animal Science.
8. I worked as a student extern at Parkland Memorial Hospital two summers when home from college in the early 80’s. I was assigned to the surgical intensive care unit, where I witnessed many eye opening events –many people dying and many people being brought back to life. It is there I gained my appreciation for nurses and their critical role in health care delivery. The saddest thing I witnessed was seeing an unidentified person (Jane Doe or John Doe on the medical chart) die without any family or friends present. The most valuable lesson I learned was that everybody has a story and everybody’s story matters. The experience was life changing.
9. It was my first year working as an Audiologist. My Clinical Fellowship Year. Mrs. Jones, a spry elderly woman, was my first patient in need of hearing aids. All went well with the hearing aid evaluation, selection and fitting. I was confident she was going to like her hearing aids. When she returned for her post-fit follow up appointment, I asked her how she liked her new hearing aids. She said “about as much as you would like a wig, a set of false teeth, and a walking cane…but I do like that I’m hearing much better.” I’ve never forgotten her words. She taught me a lesson I’ve carried with me ever since. As an Audiologist, I’m not in the business of dispensing hearing aids. I’m in the business of helping people experience a better quality of life through better hearing.
10. I love gardening. I love flowers. My favorite is the bearded iris. It was my mom’s favorite so it became mine too. My mom grew iris every year, everywhere she lived, as long as she lived. At an early age, I spent time helping my mom with her gardening. I learned a lot of valuable life lessons in that time with her. It was she who taught me the “law of the harvest.” You know, “you reap what you sow.” She taught me that in order to achieve something, first develop a vision. To begin with the end in mind. To become a student of your subject and gain the requisite knowledge. To know what resources you need, where to get them, and how to use them. To plan and execute. It was she who taught me about the soil, the sun, and the seasons. The necessity of being methodical and thorough when clearing, tilling, weeding, seeding, feeding, watering and pruning. The importance of time, patience, and purpose. Gaining an awareness of what you can and cannot control. All things necessary for the harvest you desire. She even used the gardening metaphor to help me gain an understanding of marriage, what makes it thrive as well as what makes it die. My mom most definitely had a “green thumb.” I most definitely do not.
FAVORITE AUTHOR : AW TOZER
from Miracles follow the Plow
“There are two kinds of ground: Fallow ground and ground that has been broken up by the plow.
The fallow ground is smug, contented, protected from the shock of the plow and the agitation of the harrow.
Safe and undisturbed, it sprawls lazily in the sunshine, the picture of sleepy contentment. But it is paying a terrible price for its tranquility: Never does it see the miracle of growth … nor see the wonders of bursting seed. … Fruit it can never know because it is afraid of the plow and the harrow.
In direct opposition to this, the cultivated field has yielded itself to the adventure of living. The protecting fence has opened to admit the plow. Peace has been shattered by the shouting farmer and the rattle of machinery. The field has felt the travail of change; it has been upset, turned over, bruised and broken, but… the seed shoots up its miracle of life. All over the field the hand of God is at work in the … ever renewed service of creation. … Nature’s wonders follow the plow.”
“There are two kinds of lives also: The fallow and the plowed.
The man of fallow life is contented with himself and the fruit he once bore. He does not want to be disturbed. … The spirit of adventure is dead within him. … To be has taken the place of to become. He has fenced himself in, and by the same act, he has fenced out God and the miracle.
The plowed life has, in repentance, thrown open the protecting fences and sent the plow of confession into the soul. … Such a life has put away defense, and has forsaken the safety of death to the peril of life.
Discontent, yearning, contrition, courageous obedience to the will of God: these have bruised and broken the soil till it is ready again for the seed. … Fruit follows the plow … as God “rains down righteousness.”