Was drinking coffee on the porch, then came the rain, now inside, back on the computer.
I have written about my Father a number of times, naturally think of him today, especially while listening to music from the 40's, memories take me back to old 319 South Brown Street in Dayton, where Dad had the home and office together. It was built for that purpose. Looking back, the office part was "off limits" to me, I think he did that on purpose so the office did not interfere with our home life. We often had friends or relatives who wanted to see "Doc" that waited for him in our living room rather than the waiting room, but those were exceptions.
His patients came by bus, or walked. I remember one little boy who had a large crock stuck on his head. His Mother brought him on the Brown Street Bus. Dad did a little checking, hit the crock with a hammer, and it came off. They got on the next bus and went home. In those days I think most neighborhoods had a doctor that took care of emergencies. I remember a couple of gunshot victims, and an assortment of other injuries that were brought or carried to his office.
Billy badger was choking on a peanut, a rap on the back and he went home. Mrs. Hess would call, complain of a certain ailment, we would tell her to take the blue pill, and she would get better. That busy office was run with the assistance of one nurse and a bookkeeper. Afternoon and evening office hours, many patients. Today it would take an army of help to run that busy an office.
Dad was an avid sports fan. I learned that in the early day of his practice, to get started and get his name around, he would go to a game, and a couple of times Mom would call and have him paged for some reason, "Doctor Dooley, please call your office."
I finally got to really know my Dad when he was in a nursing home and we had some uninterrupted time together, he was dependent on me. I used to take him breakfast on Sunday mornings. Don, at the Aladdin in Granville would fix me up with a dandy carry out and I would take it to the nursing home. We had some really great talks.
I doubt that a patient ever saw him in anything but a suit, shirt and tie, under his white smock. Doctors wore suits in those days, as did bankers, lawyers and ministers and others.
Right next to me is a table he made, glass top, with a drawer under the glass to display mementos. I have a picture of Mom and Dad, his medals from WWI and other items that have meaning for me. In the drawer is his cap from WWI.
Fathers Day best wishes to all Fathers, especially to Ralph Dean Dooley, M.D.
