FORT WORTH, Texas — J Mack Slaughter Jr. said he felt like a leper. The emergency room doctor based at Texas Health Harris Methodist Hospital Southwest said since the pandemic hit, his life has been a “double-edged sword.”
On the one hand, people all over the country have touted him and other frontline health care workers as heroes. Whereas so many people were forced to hunker down when COVID-19 hit, Slaughter still went to work where he interacted with countless people daily.
On the other hand, his job required that he put himself at risk for contracting the deadly virus that has already claimed roughly 300,000 American lives. He’s been forced to keep his distance from his friends and elderly parents, both of whom have overcome cancer in recent years. His father recently underwent a bone marrow transplant that compromised his immune system.
When Slaughter recently received one of the first COVID-19 vaccines in the world, he recorded the experience and posted the clip to his social media. In an emotionally wrought video, his normally cheery countenance and upbeat tone couldn’t mask the unrelenting stress that’s become an endemic part of his life. His voice shook and his eyes puffed into a red hue as he spoke on the prospect of reconnecting with his friends and loved ones.
“For me to be able to get this vaccine now and to know that barrier will be lifted — between myself and my best friends and my family — is something I’ve been dreaming about since day one. I know it’s something the whole world was dreaming about, and we’re here.”
As Pfizer/BioNTech’s version of the vaccine has been doled out around the country, frontline health care workers were earmarked to be among the first to receive vaccinations. Texas is set to receive 1.4 million doses in this first wave of vaccines, and 100,000 of those doses have reportedly already been administered.
Frontline health care workers have been the one constant, the medical soldiers forming row after row in the ground war against the raging spread of the coronavirus. But as cases and deaths shatter daily records, foreshadowing one of the deadliest years in American history, the very people whose life mission is caring for others have been driven to the verge of collective collapse.
Slaughter told Spectrum News 1 he wanted to make the video to show others that there was nothing to fear.
“I knew that there was going to be a very strong apprehension in almost everyone, and for people in the medical community too,” he said. “I want to show everyone from my fellow doctors to the environmental services staff that I'm not afraid of this vaccine.
“For me, especially seeing the effects of COVID firsthand on a very regular basis, I am much more afraid of COVID,” he continued.
J Mack Slaughter’s career path reads like an ambitious child’s fever dream. Plenty of kids hope to one day become a doctor. Others, perhaps many more, fantasize about life in a touring boy band or starring in a network television show and blockbuster Hollywood movie. Some more grounded kids might even want to start a nonprofit or create a successful business. Slaughter has accomplished all of those things before the age of 40. A book of his life would likely be rejected by most credible publishers as too far-fetched.
He grew up, as he puts it, “in a Partridge Family.” He joined his family’s band at age 3, along with his two older sisters, all the while auditioning for (and landing) parts at a local theater. At age 15, he lied about his age after hearing about an opportunity to audition for a boy band being pieced together by local FM radio legend Kidd Kraddick. Sons of Harmony toured the country, opening for platinum-selling acts like 98 Degrees, Destiny’s Child, Bon Jovi, and Jessica Simpson.
“We once went backstage to hang out with Destiny's Child after they had performed,” he said, reminiscing about his boy band days. “We were so excited to sing for them. We were, like, ‘Can we sing you something? Can we sing you something?’ And they said, ‘Yes, sure.’ And we just put our hearts out there and sang super hard. “They just got off stage after singing for two-and-a-half hours, and our opening set was 30 minutes. We were, like, ‘OK, now you sing for us.’ And they said, ‘No, we're tired.’ That’s understandable.”
When the boy band fad faded, Slaughter naturally segued into acting. He starred in Fat Albert, alongside Kenan Thompson, Aaron Carter, and others. Around the same time, he landed a major role in a short-lived sitcom, Like Family.
After realizing his heart wasn’t into acting, Slaughter eventually eschewed the spotlight and moved back to North Texas. After a lifetime on stages, he opted for the decidedly less glamorous life of medical school.
In his almost non-existent spare-time during the pursuit of his career in medicine, he created a nonprofit called Music Meets Medicine, which sends volunteers to area hospitals to play music, donate instruments, and give lessons. He dreamed of the idea while his mother was in chemotherapy for stage 2 breast cancer.
The treatment his mother was experiencing often destroys a patient’s fingernails. The way to remedy that is for a patient to soak her fingers in ice water. As her family sat with her for the hour-long chemo sessions, watching her endure the pain of soaking her fingers, they decided to bring their instruments to entertain her.
“That room just turned upside down,” Slaughter said. “There was just so much love and happiness in that room. And she was making requests from her childhood, and that hour flew by. I was just so overwhelmed by that moment. I knew that I had to do something with it.”
Among the charity’s many accomplishments includes creating a jam room at Children’s Medical Center Dallas. For that project, Slaughter raised roughly $150,000 aided by an on-air push by his onetime mentor Kid Kraddick.
Since working long hours, managing a charity, and being a father to three young children apparently isn’t enough, Slaughter seized an opportunity to start his own business. When the pandemic started in March, Slaughter and a friend who has worked in fashion for years created a company called Safe Life that sells PPE masks online and in vending machines.
“I feel like when you just put things out there in the world, and you're trying to push things forward, you plant this little seed in people's heads and you never know when that's going to grow into something,” he said. “So that's kind of how I lived my life. If there's anything that I'm passionate or excited about, I just put it out there and then at some point somebody else will help me get it to where it needs to go.”
Being inoculated, he said, reminded him of his performing days.
“Walking in, there’s this anxiousness, but there's also so much excitement,” he said. “It's like my performing days. Before you go on stage and you perform for 10,000-plus people, there’s a lot of, like, childhood excitement. You're just thinking, ‘We're doing this.’”