A Tale of a Mother, Her Three Boys, and Their Dog

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Contents

Acknowledgements...............................................................xiPrologue.......................................................................xiiiPreface........................................................................xviiiChapter 1 The Beginning of our Odyssey.........................................1Chapter 2 To New York City by Mistake..........................................10Chapter 3 Fort Dix, New Jersey—A Wonderful Year..........................19Chapter 4 Our Honeymoon Cruise to Japan........................................34Chapter 5 Bon Voyage and Welcome to Detroit....................................52Chapter 6 A Return to Omaha and Starting Our Practice Life.....................63Chapter 7 Starting Sports and Having Fun.......................................89Chapter 8 Family Trips, and Fun................................................113Chapter 9 The High School Years................................................136Epilogue.......................................................................153

Chapter One

Once upon a time almost sixty-seven years ago, a lowly peasant boy married a beautiful fairy princess named Mary Catherine. This story book romance will begin with our train ride to San Antonio, Texas as I had to report at Fort Sam Huston and the Brook Army Medical Center for medical officer training by July 1,1948. We had just finished my internship and the first year of residency in pediatrics. We were eager to start our new adventures. We traveled on the Missouri Pacific Railroad, which, now, is a part of the Union Pacific System.

After we left Kansas City and while we were on the train, we encountered our first touch of the segregation of the races. Segregation was something we had heard and read about but had never encountered or paid much attention to such an animal. Mary and I were very naïve about such happenings.

On arrival in San Antonio, we stayed the first night at the historic and lovely Menger Hotel. This Hotel had been in existence since 1859 and was located near the Alamo and the now, modern "River Walk". Upon arrival, my naiveté reared its ugly head when I asked the desk clerk, "If there was a nice restaurant nearby". The desk clerk could barely hide his smirk and laughter. Trying for a semi straight face and suppressing the smirk, he mentioned with emphasis, "This particular "First Class Hotel" had a lovely patio dining area outside and just off the hotel lobby". We proceeded there forthwith.

After a tasty steak dinner under the romantic light of the stars and with hidden music playing softly in the background, we went to our previously reserved room for a much needed good night's rest. We had had a long and tiring trip sitting up on the train all day and night. Unfortunately, we did not have enough money for a sleeper berth.

In the morning, I asked for directions to our motel unit, "Ashby Courts". Our particular unit was one of many similar ones.

After we moved and had become settled, we were enjoying sitting outside of our unit on the luscious green lawn and the lovely weather. Well! Low and behold, who should come sauntering over to say hello, but, John and Dorothy Barmore. John was my old 1943 classmate, fellow inmate intern, and resident from the University Hospital. What a pleasant coincidence!

John had a car so transportation to the army post was a non entity. We had to report every morning at 7:00 am to Fort Sam Huston and the Brook Army Medical Center for rigorous calisthenics. Our entire group of neophyte officers were so far out of shape that we were huffing and puffing after only two or three "Jumping Jacks". Oh those "Push Ups". Ugh! Between med school, internship, and residency with eighty hour plus work weeks or more, none of us were in any kind of shape, except pathetic. We had to endure this humiliation every morning for six weeks. When our training was over, we were not the same slobs who had started this formidable task of conditioning. We had become lean, sleek, and knowledgeable medical officers with a very professional eye and attitude.

Our training to become Army Medical Officers was very intense and in great depth. We learned about maintaining barrack's health, knowledge of food handling, conducting a sick call, the selection and choosing of proper cuts of meat, understanding and the application of public health measures, the need for troop immunizations, handling venereal disease including giving of lectures to the troops—ugh, sanitation, and many, many other essential army service items. The Army Medical Officer has to be adequately prepared to handle many important and diverse situations on the spot.

Over time, I had to learn how to handle a unit's sick call with about two hundred men—some were sick and some were trying to get out of a twenty mile hike. There were well and sick children and women to care for. When I became a ship surgeon, with the awesome health responsibility of two thousand people aboard ship, these health items were all part of my future responsibilities. At times, these tasks were very daunting; so my detailed extensive medical officer training was put to good use in many ways and under various different guises and circumstance. These experiences translated well over into my pediatric practice as well.

During the week, we attended classes, demonstrations, and field work as part of this training. Weekends were our own. One weekend, we took a trip to Corpus Christy with the Barmores. We went deep fishing in the Gulf for an afternoon. Naturally, non-fisherwoman, Mary, caught the biggest fish—"a Drum"—amongst all of us who were at sea. Meanwhile, landlubber John Barmore sat with his head in his hands in the stern of the boat throughout the entire voyage. He was sick as a dog. Going to sea was not John's cup of tea.

On another weekend, we drove to Austin, the capitol of Texas. We toured the University of Texas campus, the state museum, and the marvelous oil exhibit depicting the exploring, finding, drilling, and refining of oil. This exhibit about oil was very educational. In addition, we toured the state capitol building.

This capitol building had a tall, open spiral staircase way up into the dome. We elected to try the long climb up the narrow stairs along with many other tourists. Well! As we proceeded up and up towards the heavens, a look down made your heart jump into your throat as it seemed so far down. People at the ground level seemed like so many ants scurrying around. As we neared the top, my stomach became a bit queasy. It was just our bad luck! Someone ahead of us had encountered an acute case of nerves, was frozen in place, and could not go onward and upward. This dilemma created a serious traffic jam. Those of us waiting on the stairs had to back down one step at a time as the stairway was too narrow for the passing of one another. The stair width would accommodate only one person at a time. It was with a sigh of great relief when the good old terra firma was reached. The four of us declined a repeat try to reach the top.

My Beloved Mary and I spent a considerable time exploring the confines of San Antonio on foot and by bus. One of our favorite spots was the Chinese Sunken Gardens, which were carved out of an old rock quarry. The ambiance was so peaceful, and the scenery...