Friends
With the average age of men being over 50, there wasn't much opportunity
for friendships with guys my own age. But I still had several close friends while in the ward.
| Photo 1 |
|
Jim Hammond
Several months after I was admitted, a young man named Jim Hammond was re-admitted
to the ward. Jim, shown at the right, was about two years older than me and had been in the san previously along
with two of his brothers. During his first stint in the san Jim had thoracoplasty, removal of the ribs on one side of
the thorax to accomplish a permanent collapse of the diseased part of the lung. He had recovered and been discharged,
but had relapsed and found himself back in the san in 1955. It didn't take long for us to become good friends.
We spent several hours each day together playing cards, checkers, chess or just shootin' the bull. By happenstance,
Jim and I made meals at the same time, so our friendship continued as we were in the rehab phase of our treatment.
Herb Eby
Herb Eby was a
friend and one of the more colorful characters in the san. He had already been a patient at the san for 3 or 4 years
when I met him and he was basically just skin and bones. He looked like a mild wind could blow him away.
It was obvious that he was one of those patients who were slowly wasting away,
with death the only option for leaving the san.
In spite of his frail appearance, Herb had a feisty and belligerent demeanor, and always
seemed like he was just barely keeping his aggression under control. Herb had been sent to the san from a prison in
western Pennsylvania where he was doing time for armed robbery. He had a habit of wheeling around with
his fists balled up in a defensive position whenever someone walked up behind him. It was scary the first time I saw
him do this, but I eventually got used to it. This was supposedly a reflex action acquired while protecting himself
during the many fights he had in prison. We couldn't tell if this was real or feigned, but it was scary enough that
no one put it to the test.
Herb was full of stories about his earlier life when he was
involved with drugs, pimping and fighting. I was from the small peaceful town of Towanda and Herb was the
closest thing to a criminal I had ever met. I think his stories both repulsed and fascinated me at the same time.
And yet, he was very intelligent. He was one hell of a good chess player and could play several games simultaneously,
winning them all. He taught both Jim and I how to play and we spent many hours playing him simultaneous matches.
He might have made something of himself if he had used that intelligence for something other than criminal activities.
| Photo 2 |
|
He was still in the ward when I was discharged in 1956 and we didn't
keep in touch. Through the years I've thought about him and wondered how it all ended. Well, several
months ago I found out when I came across a website which listed the names of people interred in Union Cemetery, which was
located just down the road from the san entrance on Route 22. A patient who died at the san and whose body was
not claimed was buried in Union Cemetery in a small section reserved just for that purpose. The listing showed
that Herb Eby died in 1958. That's his grave marker at the right. I was told that the markers for all
the san patients buried in Union Cemetery only display the date of death, but not date of birth. Nobody knew
why this was so, but some thought it was just to save cost.
| Photo 3 |
|
Jack Larson
Jack, pictured at right, was also an ex-con and was rumored to have known Herb Eby when
they were in prison together. But Jack and Herb Eby had an on-again, off-again relationship. As I recall,
Jack was also in the slammer for robbery. Jack was mild mannered, not at all scary like Herb. He thought
of himself as a lady's man and was always flirting with the nurses. He affected a snide attitude and always seemed to
be working on some scam, know only to him.
Jack and I did collaborate to pull off one scheme which was rather unique. I let slip one
day that I was a model airplane builder and flyer. Jack immediately was intrigued with the idea and hatched a plan to
build a small control line motorized model and fly it on the grass lawn outside the ward building. Anything
for a laugh when stuck
in the ward. I talked my folks into bringing the model airplane kit and supplies we needed and
Jack and I set to work putting it together in our locker cubicle. We didn't ask permission to fly the model because
we knew the answer would be a resounding, "No". After all, we were there to rest. But, considering our circumstances,
what was the worst they could do to us?
We managed to keep our nefarious
activities from the staff, but all the patients soon learned what we were up to. It was summer by the time the model
was completed and ready for first flight. We chose a calm sunny day and waited until the nurses were between
rounds to slip out of the building and set up the model on the newly cut grass lawn, a perfect flying field. There
was a gallery of men on the porches cheering me on as I flew the model. I got three good flights in before the high pitched scream of the small engine gave us away.
Of course we were
soon shut down by the nurses, who tried to act stern but who also gave the impression of being highly amused by
the whole episode. It must have been quite an unusual sight with all of us out there in our pajamas, robes and
slippers. And it might have been the only time anyone ever flew a model airplane on the san grounds. Another history
making flight!
| Photo 4 |
|
Mike Jez
Mike was in the ward up on the second floor when I was admitted. We
met and became friends there and later were on meals together. He was friendly and down to earth with a great
positive attitude. He had TB, but he wasn't about to sit around and waste time complain about it. He was looking
to the future by taking education courses and preparing himself for the day he would get back to "civilian" life.
Most of the men in the ward were depressed and disgruntled, maybe with good reason. But Mike's optimism
was inspiring and drew me to him immediately. My spirits were always lifted after spending time with him because he
encouraged me to make better use of my time at the san.
|
