Is there a Doctor in the House?

One myth that most Woodsdale Kids will remember is that of the tonsils. Dr. Earl Phillips lived cattycorner from my grandfather and was our family doctor. Every kid in the neighborhood believed that Dr. Phillips had a glass case in his living room where he kept all the kids' tonsils that he had removed. One day my curiosity just got the best of me and I decided to go ask to see the tonsils.
Mrs. Phillips, who answered the door, seemed perplexed at my request and said there was no such glass case. Being the sceptic that I am, I asked if I could see their living room and sure enough! NO TONSILS! So I politely asked just what he did with them and was told, "Why, dear, I believe they are thrown away". I was so disappointed...a part of a child just tossed in the bin like so much garbage. Then and there I decided he'd never get mine.
When I was a little older I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. My dad ran every red light getting me to the hospital. When we arrived at the emergency room, I was shocked to see men everywhere covered in blood. There had been a bar fight and some had been cut with bottles, but I assumed that the hospital was responsible for their condition and was determined to leave. Now in the old days, they did not have Xrays, they had a "floroscope" which I held my arm up against and was told, "Yep, it's broken". My father was told I would have to spend the night. I was put in the pediatrics ward where the only other child was a girl that had been in a plane crash.
I was not about to admit how I had really injured my arm after hearing that so told her that I had been stepped on by an elephant....she believed me ..so I felt one up at least.
When my family needed a doctor, Dr. Phillips (who delivered all nine of us!) would come to our house. I never saw any money exchanged for these visits so assumed that doctors were rich men who were kind enough to take care of the sick for free. A few years later I had to take my sister to Dr. Phillip's office to have some warts removed from her hands. When done, the nurse asked me how I was going to pay for the visit. I was SHOCKED....PAY????...I said she had better talk to my mother about that.
We were lucky enough to have five doctors within hollering distance of our house, but Dr. Earl was special. I found out years later that my great uncle Jack had been a doctor. He had been the only doctor on a troop train in France in charge of 500 men during WWI, he had worked at the MAYO clinic, taught obstetrics at OV, and had treated Dr. Earl's son and cured him when there was no hope. So this was why Dr. Earl never charged my family any money. Dr. Earl died of hepatitis when he accidentally injected himself with a contaminated needle. What a great man he was!

Lucky!

When I was 4 months old my family was returning from a trip to Oglebay. At the intersection of Bethany Pike and Edgwood Street, my dad turned left. Wrapped in a blanket on the back seat,I rolled out of the back door and down an embankment into the creek. The door closed and the family proceeded homeward. Now, surely my brothers and sisters saw this happened, but according to family legend they said nothing. So when my parents got home, they discovered they had one less mouth to feed. I'm told that hours were spent trying to find me. I don't think my older siblings were anxious for my return as they were still closed mouthed about WHERE I departed the vehicle. I was finally located and was completely unharmed. I'm told that my grandfather made my father buy a new car because of this instance.
As a result of this story, I had a bad habit of holding onto the door handles. On a trip to Oglebay to the swimming pool at about age 8 or 9, my mother made the sharp turn from Echo street onto Walnut and going around the curve, I accidentally pulled up on the handle. Though being dragged in my bathing suit, I could not let go. It took my mother a few feet to stop and by that time I was pretty well skinned, but otherwise unharmed...and yes, the chlorine stung like hell when I dove in....I wasn't going to let a few scrapes keep me from a day of swimming.
I knocked all of my front teeth out diving into that pool and the lifeguard had the wherewithall to push them back up into my gums! None of them fell out or died, but they sure are crooked even today.
Another time, my mother was washing clothes in the basement. I saw her thru the window (I think I was about three or four at the time) and tried to get her attention. She didn't see or hear me so I jumped thru the glass...and YES once again, I was unharmed.
At Barr camp, I was playing at the top of a waterfall of about 30 ft when I slipped on some moss and went over. I remember the water holding me down for awhile, but someone dove in and rescued me...not sure now who it was..probably my father.
All of these accidents have convinced me I was the world's luckiest kid. Must have given my parents a few grey hairs though!

Shorty Helms taught me Algebra

The janitor at Woodsdale always sat on a wooden bench on one side of the hall. Half asleep he rang the bell that reinstated hell. As a young scholar I always struggled with math. A common punishment at Woodsdale in my day was to be sent to sit with Shorty in the boiler room. For some reason the time of day I usually got in trouble was about the time I was supposed to be learning Algebra. The boiler room was warm, and Shorty never even showed me the formula for when the coal would run out, so my math has haunted my whole life. My first experience with Shorty was in the sixth grade. Unfortunately in those days a lot of kids with serious learning disabilities were sent to school with everyone else and no special help. A poor girl from the Woodsdale Home sat behind me in the sixth grade. All day she picked her nose and blew her nose with most of the production going into the pages of her history book. The history of our country was a lot worse at the end of my sixth grade year. I cannot remember the teachers name, but I do remember on the last day of class she took the history book from this poor girl with brown paper towels and gave it to me with the instructions I was to take it to Shorty Helms and have him burn it.

One day bored and full of mischief I had a brilliant idea. Like most of my ideas it involved putting someone else up to the dirty work. The plan was fairly straight forward. Charlie Jones the mother of all ornery kids would go up on the second floor with a helper. I would station myself on the first floor and observe Shorty Helms. When Shorty went over to ring the bell at noon, I would whistle. This would let Charlie and his conspirator on the second floor know to pull the bell rope. Shorty awoke from his half sleep and looked at the clock. Still half asleep he staggered over to the bell rope and stuck his hand through the loop, then grabbed the loop. After a pull or two I gave the signal and the guys on the second floor where the rope came through started hoisting. It never occurred to me that Shorty would rise off the ground, but he went up in the air about four or five feet before he could let loose. When he did let go he fell to the floor wide awake and madder than hell. Shorty rushed up the big stair case, and much to the bad luck of George Amos, who happened to be coming down, Shorty grabbed George, thinking he was the culprit. George was so scared and about to cry, that I felt sorry for him and told Shorty he was not guilty. Shorty went to Mr. Hile and insisted the real culprits be beaten with a board. The outcome was not that bad, and I was never implicated. These kind of things were the reason I never missed school, sick or not. You just did not want to miss a great event.

Easter 2010

Here's Caroline Coleman (Jett) with her dog and grandchildren ready for an Easter egg hunt.

Miss Beneke

Those of you who attended Triadelphia will remember Miss Beneke, the Dean of
Girls (jeesh, we weren't even considered women back then). She was tall, blocky, unfeminine...let's just say BUTCH.
About 1969, my youngest brother Colin was still at Triadelphia. A popular guy, he was President of his class, a great student, quarterback of the football team, and captain of the basketball team. He decided, during that "hippy" era to let his hair get long, shoulder length...clean and combed, but long.
He and his buddy Dave Cochran were walking down the second floor hall where Miss Beneke's office was and she lurked in the doorway as usual giving students the evil eye. As Colin walked past she remarked, "Put a dress on him and you would think he was a girl!". Dave immediately turned and said, "Put a helmut on her and you would think she was a Green Bay Packer!!"