Friends
The person you spent the most time with was the one in the bed next to you.
You ate, chatted, listened to the radio, read books, rested and slept next to them every day. Hopefully it was
someone with whom you could get along. When I was admitted in April 1955, I was put in a bed in the corner of the ward
next to a patient named Harold Riggle. He had been admitted in October 1953, eighteen months before me. He was
in his mid to late 30's and was married with teenage children. Fortunately, Harold was relaxed and easy going just like
me, so we got along great for the next eight months until he was discharged. During that time he was like a surrogate
father to me and I got to meet his wife and children during their visits. The day he left, I was happy to see him reunited
with his family, but sad to lose him as a friend. That's the way it was at the san.
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.
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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. 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 earlier in life when he was into boxing. 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 interesting stories about his earlier life,
which we all found fascinating. He was very intelligent and one hell of a good chess player, often playing several
opponents simultaneously and winning every game. He taught both Jim Hammond and I how to play and we spent
many hours playing him simultaneous matches.
Below is a letter Herb wrote which was published in January 1955 in
the Readers' Forum section of Chess Review magazine requesting material to start a chess club at the san.
Apparently people were moved to donate these items because Herb had all these items when I met him just three months later.
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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.
(Note: In March of 2010 I talked
with a retired nurse who lives in Cresson and she remembered Herb very well. She also remembered that Herb could
requisition almost anything, for a price. The joke was that if you wanted a refrigerator, just tell Herb and it would
be delivered he next day. Also, on page 22 of the August 1956 edition
of the Skyliner newsletter, there is an item about Herb Eby's little store having a lot of nice plastic airplanes to sell
which the patients can put together. Herb was a real entrepreneur, even when a patient in a TB sanatorium)
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Jack Larson Jack, pictured at right, was also a friend of Herb Eby. But Jack and Herb had an on-again, off-again
relationship. 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!
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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.
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