The Story of My Father
Reed asked me to post something regarding my father Burt, whose photo images are below and for me to provide a glimpse into his life.
Earlier this week, I was standing at the kitchen counter dicing up some vegetables for a meal and I found myself thinking of my dad, and the contrast between his nature and spirit and his hugely demanding and difficult life.
Shortly after, I get a text from my oldest sister saying she had received a message from our youngest brother (perhaps just when I was thinking of dad) saying that, “Yesterday (April 12th) was the 34th anniversary of dad’s passing.” Heart pang…Oh Dad.
Dad’s parents were immigrants from Germany and Holland. The Great Depression overshadowed his youth, college and medical school years. Due to the war, he was conscripted into the army. He had no choice. He was a newly wed. He’d just finished his medical residency, and baby #1 was on the way. He would not see his first born daughter until she was two and a half years old. (The picture of Burt with the little girl was the first time he’d even seen his first child, when pemitted take leave mid-war to go home from the field.)
Originally destined for the eastern front in the Pacific, and on the way there by naval ship, his orders were changed when his commanding officer learned that he was fluent in French and German. He was off loaded somewhere in Pacific and sent back to Europe by sea, then land and by sea again via the ship the Queen Mary. By chance, we were actually able to visit this ship last December, docked in Long Beach California.
He spent five and a half years in Europe as a field doctor. With many of the injured soldiers he worked hand in hand with his partner, a field dentist (who, after the war, became one of the first plastic surgeons). Among many other battle field and trench war injuries, together dad and his dentist-partner did the best they could and found a way to do onsite facial reconstruction for some soldiers. “We had to do something right away for the men with injuries like that” he once said.
Regarding the antibiotic penicillen, he said “It was a total miracle. I had men dying of trench mouth, in addition to schrapnel and gun fire. Finally we had something.” He was the first medical officer on the Western Front to receive a shipment of the new drug. He recalled a historic moment in his life of walking out onto the tarmac to be handed a small crate of it, just after being unloaded from the aircraft.
Towards the end of the war he said, “Soldiers and prisoners alike, including myself, we all just wanted to go home.”
And so it went, for my dear dad. He returned home a newly wed, to three children (two of whom were conceived on the leaves he was premitted in those five years). There was ever more life to come, more demanding work, eventually two more years away from home and family to go to Columbia Univ. to obtain a Masters in Public Health, on top of his MD. He eventually became Commissioner of Health, but endured terrible political pressures. Political corruption was rampant in that era. More babies came, one of whom was me.
With six kids, our family life was rambunctious and active, but dad’s quiet, sensitive nature was such a refuge for me, as a child. Sometimes in the evening I’d see him reading his huge history books about Abraham Lincoln, a life long study of his. I’d ask him what he was doing. He’d say, “Oh Patricia, this is my meditation.”
As a little girl I didn’t know what a “meditation” was, but the mere seeing my dad, home at last , sitting there relaxed with his book, provided a bit of “an invisible light” for me to go and find out in my life. That long journey one day led me to find Marshall Vian Summers.
Dad would have loved to know Marshall and Reed. Relationships with these two men would have elevated the quality of his life to the stars.
Thank you for taking this in.
Thank you for sharing this, Patricia. These glimpses into the past and into your family are important for us all. I especially benefit from hearing the stories of other quiet and sensitive men. It gives me strength when others who are similarly designed show their strength as your father has done.
Thank you
Very moving to read about your father, Patricia. Thank you for sharing with us what a light in the world he was.
Thank you Patricia for this beautiful testimony to your father who helps us all through you. My father is 90 years old and also the father of six children. He is my hero. A hero in his life. I am so very grateful for the amazing relationship we have established, later in his life but oh so worth waiting for. One I now know continues to eternity. Nasi Novare Coram
Such a gift to share with us this very thing that just this morning (three weeks after your writing but at the top of the side bar when I arrive at the site) came up for me: to think of the parents who brought up Patricia and prepared her for the work that would require the highest dedication, innovation, responsibility and creativity–the truest studenthood–to establish a brand new pathway in the world.
I remember Patricia describing good parenting practice in terms of allowing the child to follow their deeper inclinations, and I cherish that approach and give thanks for my own parents who demonstrated the same … but there you see the prompt for my thought of Patricia’s parents–“results may vary!”
Thank you Patricia for sharing this heart warming glimpse into part of your life. Many Blessings to you.
Thank you Patricia, you have the same smile as your father and definitely you both carry ” the invisible light”.
Patricia, this is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Knowing more about your past strengthens the practice Patricia, thank you for sharing this.
Ohhh Patricia… I love his portrait in uniform. So young…this is a precious testament to your courageous dad, whose daughter is one courageous woman. I know what a demonstration he always was to you. He deserves to be known.
Oh, beautiful, dearest Patricia! Thank you for sharing these photos and the memory of your father with us. You look so like him! Thank you, Burt, for doing your best during troubled times. We must do the same now. NNC
Thank you, Patricia, for sharing this touching story! It brought me back to the memory of my father who died 3 years ago and now I realize more how much he loved us.
Great story thank you for sharing!!!
Thank you Patricia!
Such a beautiful remembrance of your Father. Thank you so much for sharing. My Father passed when I was very young leaving my Mother with seven children take of. I only know my Father was a very loving and quiet Man who loved his children very much. Knowing just this has given me so much.
Thank you, Patricia
Thank you Patricia for your story. Oh yes, your father would have loved them both dearly.
I’m really moved by the story of your father Patricia, particularly that last bit: “Dad would have loved to know Marshall and Reed. Relationships with these two men would have elevated the quality of his life to the stars.” Thank you for sharing x
Wow Patricia! I have a soft spot for WWII vets and your dad was an MD! I really get a kick out of hearing about you and Marshall’s early lives. Thank you so much for sharing a wonder story about one so influential in your life. Nasi Novare Coram.
Thank you Patricia for sharing this touching story about your father, his service, travels and your family.
Dear Patricia, thank you for opening your heart to us. When I hear stories like yours it helps me begin to remember my own relationships from the past which are becoming more and more difficult to remember. What a life your Father must have had!
What a beautiful heritage Patricia, thank you for sharing this personal memory of your father and how wonderful his service to humanity.
What a privilege to hear about your father, and the service he rendered. Thank you for giving us this glimpse, and the photos! May we see your mother as well!? I have been so moved by your stories of things she knew for you…
Thank you Patricia for this account of your father’s life. What an amazing journey…thank God he made it back home and had more children 😉
Oh Patricia, thank you for this glimpse into your fathers life.