"What we do during our working hours determines what we have; what we do in our leisure hours determines what we are."
George Eastman (1854-1932) Founder of Kodak, Photography Pioneer, and
Rochester Philanthropist
The city of Rochester, NY was never really on my radar. I had never been there, had known no Rochesterians, and didn't even have a good idea of just where it was. If you're from the greater New York City area, Upstate New York is considered anything above Westchester County. Sure, I knew about Canton, Syracuse, Cherry Valley and the Adirondack Mountains but Rochester was beyond, in western New York. I had a map of the state (pre-google days) and found it was on Lake Ontario, one of the Great Lakes, and just to the north of the Finger Lakes. It was about half way between Syracuse and Buffalo and, therefore, not too far from the Canadian border. It was the third largest city in the state and appeared quite attractive in photographs I was able to find. Despite its identity with Kodak, Xerox, and Bausch and Lomb, I learned it had had its problems with racial and socioeconomic inequities, including the race riots in 1964. While it had its beautiful suburbs with their manicured lawns, mostly without any diversity, the city itself was beginning to see problems that have lasted into the present time, including poverty, crime, and educational challenges. The city that had been coined "Smugtown" in a book from the 1950's, attracted me for those very reasons. It was an opportunity to make a difference.
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| Rochester as it appears today |
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| Rochester circa 1964 |
During the latter part of my Akron sojourn, I began a correspondence with Dr. James Sayre, the physician who I would be working with if I was accepted for the Rochester position. Jim was twenty years my senior, not only in age but experience and prominence. His father had founded the "My Weekly Reader" back in Ohio, a publication that every American my age remembers with fondness.
The opportunity was at St. Mary's Hospital, located in the Bull's End section of town, under the leadership of the Sisters of St. Vincent DePaul and Dr. Peter Mott. Their goal was to create a very unique medical practice to serve this area where many of the disadvantaged, undeserved and needy residents, up until then, had received only crisis healthcare in emergency rooms and clinics. They would now be able to benefit from continuous care in a private office setting. Now, not only could they have an ongoing relationship with a physician they would know, but also have a sense of pride and ownership in their own healthcare destiny.
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| Bulls' Head in the '60's |
Jim, who at the time was an Associate Professor at the University of Rochester School of Medicine and Associate Chair of the Department of Pediatrics, began this correspondence with phone calls and an exchange of wonderful letters where we shared ideas and philosophies, Jim having many and I, a few. A master and a novice working together! He became my mentor and friend and I never stopped learning from him in the 12 years we worked together. There were many lessons learned, by example and by osmosis: treating the child as a valued individual, with respect, encouragement and kindness. I also learned the importance of a a nurturing homelife for our youth and the responsibility of the pediatrician to educate and support the family to become skillful and knowledgeable in providing such a home...reading to the child, listening to them and responding in a kindly fashion so the child would know that he or she had worth. Jim passed away in 2000 and I was honored to give one of his eulogies.
After a few visits to Rochester with Suzanne and many interviews, I was hired and joined this practice of two pediatricians, four internists, and two OB-GYN specialists.
Before I left Ohio, I had to do my written Pediatric Boards exam as well as get a medical license. For the former, I sat for the exam in Cleveland at Rainbow Babies and Children Hospital. This was the first half of becoming Board-Certified, the second part being orals after two years of actual practice. Fortunately, I passed the written. I happened to have a trip planned to Detroit to see my old med school buddy, Mark Hammel and his Belgian wife, Bonnie. I had been their best man at their wedding in Tirlemont, Belgium. By serendipity, they just happened to be giving the FLEX (Federation Licensing Exam) there at the same time, so I registered for it. I remember sitting in a large armory on Woodward Avenue with hundreds of other aspiring physicians. Two of them were escorted out by the proctors for being caught cheating, probably ruining their futures. When news came I had passed, I was delighted and received my Michigan Medical license which, fortunately, had reciprocity with New York State.
Our next task was to find a home. Having subscribed to the Rochester newspaper for several months before leaving Akron, we always looked forward to a column written by Edith Lank, a Rochester realtor who seemed very knowledgable and in the know. After speaking with several realtors, we chose Edith who doggedly drove us around town and gave us excellent advice. She still writes the same column today, 41 years later! She got the job done and on 7/7/77, we moved into 47 Cathaway Park on a quiet street in the southeast part of Rochester. It was a small Tudor with a one-car garage, a den with the obligate wood paneling and bookcases, a lovely dining room with corner china cabinets, a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms upstairs. There was a small fenced-in back yard. It was a great neighborhood where we all looked out for each other. It was a nice mix of people, multi-generational, diverse and with close access to major arteries, so that a ride into the countryside or downtown was relatively easy to do. We finally felt that this was going to be home.
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| 47 Cathaway Park |
Along with work, there were many opportunities for fun and education. Rex took to the neighborhood quickly and made many friends. He looked out for us as, being a shepherd, we were his flock. He would only go to sleep once he made sure that Suzanne and I were safely in our bed at night. He had free roam of the backyard. On the side of the house was a small plot of land that we felt needed tending. At the time, there was a popular book out called "The Square Foot Garden" and we decided this was the perfect place for one. Sixteen square feet divided into sixteen sections provided opportunity for planting different crops. Suzanne was able to get back to the earth and get her green thumbs dirty. Even I, the city boy, was successful at growing some sweet corn stalks in three of the squares. Tomatoes, zucchini squash, red and green peppers and other veggies occupied the other squares.
That summer, we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary in grand style, having a pizza at the local Pizza Kitchen Pizzeria with its wonderful salad bar on East Avenue. Over the years, we've seemed to maintain our upscale celebrations of marriage!
We desired to start a family but, when we left Akron, we were told by the the adoption agency that, by leaving town, we would have to start anew wherever we ended up, a big disappointment for us. It was hard seeing the other young couples on the block having babies with the greatest of ease and then my having to go to work, examining babies in the newborn nurseries. There didn't seem to be any justice. One night, I was called into St. Mary's for an emergency. A newborn baby had been found in a plastic bag in a toilet at a local Holiday Inn but was still alive and I was on call. I came upon this lovely little baby girl who had been discovered, fortunately by a woman in the ladies room, a registered nurse, who's first name was Donna. From that night, the infant became known in all the local media as "Baby Donna". She was a remarkably resilient infant and my main task was assuring she maintained her body temperature as she was initially hypothermic. She came through and was eventually adopted. Police investigation revealed the biologic mother had been a high school senior who, unbeknownst to her parents, had become pregnant and, at the time time of delivering, was on a college tour trip with her parents, wearing bulky sweaters and hiding her pregnancy. She was dealt with firmly by the court judge but avoided punishment.
Next: A Glimmer of Light at the end of the Tunnel
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