Dr. Bob Morgan’s recent retirement got me thinking about Oswego physicians of the old days (and to me, the old days are my “wonder years” of the 1960s and ‘70s.
So, as I frequently do, I turned to social media to solicit memories from Oswegonians, past and present, about their doctors. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I anticipate nearly 400 comments in a week’s time as people reminisced about Oswego’s men and women of medicine.
The MDs names came fast and furious, as if I was reading an Oswego Hospital directory of a bygone era: Ahern, Perkins, Cimildoro, Pazauskas, Belden, Grant, Morisette, Freund, Fatta, Francisco, Brennan, Latulip, Mather, Seidenberg, Burden, O’Brien, Pyke, Davies, Forrester, Tripp, Cook, Kogan, Quigley, a pair of Rileys, and more. Each recollection came with a fond memory or a testimonial — far too numerous to recount all of them here.
I, of course, have my own personal connections to the docs as well. Like many Baby Boomers in Oswego, the first face I likely saw was that of Dr. Jim Grant, who brought me into this world on a rainy Saturday night in August of 1957. One of my most memorable doctor visits as a child was when a playground slide sliced open my knee at age 7. When my parents couldn’t stop the bleeding, my dad called his friend Dr. Jerry Belden, who met us in the ER to close the gash with a dozen sutures. I’d also see Dr. John Burden occasionally for typical childhood issues, and Dr. Charles Ahern removed my brother’s tonsils during a classic Oswego snowstorm.
Many memories people shared were of doctors who went above and beyond the call of duty. David Powell wrote on Facebook that as a young veteran enrolled at SUNY Oswego, with a wife and two kids, Dr. Kathleen Perkins provided his family with baby aspirin and vitamins free of charge.
Several chimed in with the story of Dr. Sam Tripp shuttling doctors and nurses to-and-from the hospital on his snowmobile during the Blizzard of ’66, when roads were otherwise impassable.
I can still see Dr. Bill Quigley ambling out onto Leighton Field as the Oswego School District physician to treat injured Buccaneer football players — all of whom he had administered the preseason physicals to.
Dr. John Pazauskas wore many hats from his West Fourth Street office, but every Saturday night he’d be on the infield at the Oswego Speedway heading up the track’s medical team.
Lester Seidenberg reminisced about visits from frantic neighborhood parents who brought their kids to his family’s home to be stitched up in the kitchen by his dad, Dr. Benjamin Seidenberg.
Images of the small-city doctor making house calls toting the “little black bag” were a common recollection for many. Brenda Earl has a distinct memory of Dr. Harold Latulip making a house call to her home to treat five kids with measles. Dr. Gaspar Fatta, whom Margaret Scullin called “a wonderful man,” came to her home when she was a teenager and diagnosed her with mononucleosis. And Marylou Partington fondly recalled Dr. Umberto Cimildoro’s frequent house calls. She said, “He always gave us good suckers from Stone’s Candy Store,” while Cimildoro’s daughter, Judy (Cimildoro) Jones, wrote that her dad loved his work so much, that he never fully retired — practicing from 1930 to 1989.
From doing a pre-marriage blood test like Dr. Lawrence Morisette provided for Ron Lamb and his fiancée, to Dr. Cimildoro piercing Gwen Vickery’s ears when she was in her twenties, the old-school doctors did it all. Then, there was the “sex talk” given by a variety of physicians over the years to an auditorium filled with a bunch of giggling, pre-pubescent junior high students.
Former patients remembered the most minute details about some of their doctors. Many remembered exactly which Oswego neighborhood the doctor’s office was in, while others, like Linda Germain, recalled the office staff, including nurse Priscilla Brown wearing the starched, white uniforms and the cap of the era and the distinct smell of rubbing alcohol in the examination room of Dr. Pazauskas. Kathy (Beauchene) DiRenna thought about the ever-present Highlights magazine that was in nearly every waiting room. Robert Kline’s image of seeing Dr. Walter Freund with a cigarette dangling from his lips seems odd by today’s knowledge, but wasn’t an oddity back in the day.
Most of us saw the public persona of these physicians, but how were they to work for? Testimonials posted on social media quickly answered that question. Jane (Smith) Nalle, who worked as a surgical nurse for 38 years, sang the praises of so many of the aforementioned doctors in a poignant email. She especially singled out the Riley brothers (Dr. John and Dr. Charles). “They were such talented doctors and real gentlemen,” she wrote. Robert Longley, who worked as a teenager at the Oswego Hospital, said that he got to know Dr. Ahern, who was “not only a wonderful physician, but a great guy to us all.”
What higher praise can a doctor receive from a family than to have a child named after him? This was the case for Sam Crego (named after Dr. Sam Tripp) and Lisa Bailey’s nephew who was named after Dr. Freund.
Hundreds of anecdotes emerged from this Facebook thread, but perhaps the one line that sums up the general sentiment is that these men and women, like recently retired Dr. Bob Morgan, were “true pillars of the community.”
Mike McCrobie is a retired Oswego High School English/Journalism teacher. His column appears here every-other Tuesday. His two books, “We’re from Oswego” and “Our Oswego,” are currently available at The River’s End Bookstore and at amazon.com.
His writing has also appeared nationally in Chicken Soup for the Soul Inspiration for Teachers, Chicken Soup for the Soul My Crazy Family, and Reminisce Magazine.
