I am sure the most important decision of my life was asking Jessie to be my wife. We stood in the archway between the living and dining rooms, and were married by Grandfather Shannon. He was a splendid public speaker, and a perfectionist in his delivery and speaking style. He had a slip of the tongue in performing our ceremony, and when he was joshed by Jess for making the unexpected error, he replied, "but this is my last daughter, and it was a little different,"
I had an allotment of fifteen dollars monthly of my thirty dollars military pay, sent to Paul who banked it for me, which increased my bank account to six hundred dollars, which represented the total of my financial resources.
I chose to enter Lewis-Institute in Chicago because if afforded a splendid pre-medical course.
I went to Chicago to enroll in college and find living quarters for me and my bride. I arrived in Chicago early in the morning and called on friends from Marion, the Reynold family, who were in Chicago where Mr. Reynolds and his two sons were studying a drugless system of healing at the Chicago School of Napraphy.
The sons were high school classmates of ours and their father had been a successful real estate operator. I had lunch with them and on their insistence visited their school. During my visit to their school they tried to convince me that medicine was a dying profession, and would eventually be replaced by the drugless system. I was introduced to several members of the faculty who took turns applying pressure to change my mind. It was a highly pressured brain washing procedure, which was capped by a visit to the College President's office in the Loop.
The President had a very elaborate office, with an ornate waiting room and trim neatly furnished treatment rooms and uniformed nurses. The President was very impressive, and I am sure most proficient in recruiting students for his school. He pointed out the expense of a medical education was prohibitive to everybody except the rich, and further emphasized that his course was only two years and that I could be out making money long before I would finish
Medical School.
He seemed to know my weak areas, and kept bringing them up in our discussion.
By this time it was late afternoon and Mr. Reynolds boarded a trolley to return home, and in my bewilderment I finally found the YMCA Hotel where I was staying.
I was terribly confused, and in doubt as to what I should do. I decided to visit the cafeteria, and have dinner. I selected a dinner and sat down at a table only to discover that I could not eat, so I left the table with my dinner untouched.
I entered the lobby and purchased a newspaper, but found my mind was in such a turmoil I couldn't read.
I returned to my cell-like room, sat on the edge of the bed hoping I might find an answer. As I sat staring at the bare walls, my memory traveled back to our old home place. I thought of my mother, and suddenly, it occurred to me that I hadn't tapped the most important resource of all, so I dropped to my knees and dispatched a message heavenward that I am sure was hastened along the way because of its urgency.
Immediately I had a feeling of relief, my anxiety was gone, my confusion had been replaced by clarity, and a sense of security had ruled out all thoughts of failure.
That evening started me on a medical career of fifty years duration. I wonder if my guardian
angel had a hand in preventing me from making a monumental mistake.
I retired, slept soundly, and the next morning enrolled at Lewis Institute. My bride came to Chicago after I had rented light housekeeping rooms, and joined me in the Windy City. Chicago at that time was corrupt and gangsters were in full sway, so that the streets were unsafe. It is interesting to recall that our weekly budget was twelve dollars, six for room rent, and six for groceries.
I had a fine year at Lewis Institute, which enabled me to enroll at the University of Illinois College of Medicine without any trouble. My first year of medicine went smoothly. I transferred to the University of Cincinnati because Jess's father rented an apartment in Cincinnati for his use in connection with his position as a national church officer, and he offered us the use of the apartment rent free, which was too tempting to pass up.
My scholastic record at the Cincinnati Medical College was quite good, indeed good enough to justify my election to AOA, the Honorary Medical Fraternity.
Graduation time usually calls for new clothes, but our finances were too depleted to allow for such an extravagance. Jess bought a new dress to wear to my commencement because she had nothing suitable for such an important occasion. She bought enough pongee material to make Bud a little sailor suit. My old worn-out suit was covered by my academic robe, so altogether, we made a nice looking trio.
I interned and served residency at the Miami Valley Hospital, and my record was good enough to attract an offer of a very coveted position as assistant to Drs. Bowers and Arn. After a year I entered private practice.
It is probably not necessary for me to list my honors. By doing so I run the risk of appearing boastful, which is certainly not my intention. The following is a list of my honors as I remember them.
Elected to AOA Honorary Medical Fraternity, offered but declined internship at Cincinnati General Hospital, appointed to Staff of Miami Valley Hospital, elected Secretary of that Miami Valley Hospital Staff, elected Chief of Staff, elected to Board of Trustees of MVH, appointed Chief of Obstetrical Service of MVH, appointed Chief of State Obstetrical Section of the Ohio State Medical Society, served one year as Chairman of the State Judicial Council, served eighteen years as Delegate to the Ohio State House of Delegates, Councilor to the Ohio State
Medical Association from the 2nd District, served on the Board of Directors of Ohio Medical Indemnity, Vice President of OMI, Chairman of the Executive Committee, received the Outstanding Medical Citizen Award from the Montgomery County Medical Society, received citations from Dayton Community Chest and Dayton Social Hygiene Society.
My most recent Citation is my Fifty Year Award, also a member of the College of OBGYN, and
the Dayton Civil War Roundtable.
But, the honor I esteem the greatest, was being the husband of Jessie Maud Shannon, the Father of Bud and Joe, and the Grandfather of seven promising little Dooleys.
My story is not quite ended until I recite my most current and last experience in my flirtation with danger. I drove to Columbus from Dayton frequently to attend Board Meetings of the Ohio Medical Indemnity, and I usually drove home by way of route forty, which was straight, level and a four lane highway. This particular balmy early spring evening seemed to lure me to what we named the back way through Xenia.
I was driving my brand new Cadillac, and was cruising peacefully along at sixty miles per hour when I came to the crest of a hill and immediately in front of me were two large tractor trailer rigs, one trying to pass the other, and completely filling the narrow highway.
There was no time to select a course of action. I froze at the wheel, my arms ached afterwards from the tension of my effort. One rig, the one on the proper side of the road gave all the road he possibly could without running in the ditch. The rig which was on the wrong side of the road turned sharply in the shallow side ditch, and I steered precisely between them.
Each of us did exactly the correct thing, if either of us had deviated from the course we took,
there would have been a disastrous accident. I slackened my speed the rest of the way home, and thanked God for delivering me from the very threshold of disaster. I have often thought my guardian angel was riding with me that night.
Joe has helped greatly in editing and printing this little booklet. Without him I could not have
achieved its production. I am most grateful to him.
Good bye, and God Bless You ….. Dad
Dad did all of this in longhand, the same longhand that wrote prescriptions, and equally as difficult to read. So any errors, please excuse.
Dad was always busy, he was a conscientious physician, a doctor, psychologist, minister, friend, advisor and all the many other adjectives that went with being a General Practitioner, in the days of home and office together, house calls, making the rounds of the hospitals twice a day, etc., so, when he was confined to a nursing home, we had many hours to talk. Time we really never had before, just time to talk. He would relate some of these stories to me ...... and I wanted him to get them on paper, memories and stories that would be gone forever, on his passing.
