This tale is one of the great romances of modern times and is accompanied by the many trials and tribulations endured by an average family. It contains love, pathos, adventures, travels and hardships which confronted an ordinary family and how they handled these situations. There are many light and entertaining and some rather sad moments described in this Tale. This is a story for light and entertainment reading.

A Tale of a Mother, Her Three Boys, and Their Dog

The Love Story of a Father for His FamilyBy BYRON B. OBERST

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Byron B. Oberst M.D., FAAP
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-7913-7

Contents

Acknowledgements...............................................................xiPrologue.......................................................................xiiiPreface........................................................................xviiiChapter 1 The Beginning of our Odyssey.........................................1Chapter 2 To New York City by Mistake..........................................10Chapter 3 Fort Dix, New Jersey—A Wonderful Year..........................19Chapter 4 Our Honeymoon Cruise to Japan........................................34Chapter 5 Bon Voyage and Welcome to Detroit....................................52Chapter 6 A Return to Omaha and Starting Our Practice Life.....................63Chapter 7 Starting Sports and Having Fun.......................................89Chapter 8 Family Trips, and Fun................................................113Chapter 9 The High School Years................................................136Epilogue.......................................................................153

Chapter One

The Beginning of our Odyssey

Once upon a time almost sixty-seven years ago, a lowly peasant boy married a beautiful fairy princess named Mary Catherine. This story book romance will begin with our train ride to San Antonio, Texas as I had to report at Fort Sam Huston and the Brook Army Medical Center for medical officer training by July 1,1948. We had just finished my internship and the first year of residency in pediatrics. We were eager to start our new adventures. We traveled on the Missouri Pacific Railroad, which, now, is a part of the Union Pacific System.

After we left Kansas City and while we were on the train, we encountered our first touch of the segregation of the races. Segregation was something we had heard and read about but had never encountered or paid much attention to such an animal. Mary and I were very naïve about such happenings.

On arrival in San Antonio, we stayed the first night at the historic and lovely Menger Hotel. This Hotel had been in existence since 1859 and was located near the Alamo and the now, modern "River Walk". Upon arrival, my naiveté reared its ugly head when I asked the desk clerk, "If there was a nice restaurant nearby". The desk clerk could barely hide his smirk and laughter. Trying for a semi straight face and suppressing the smirk, he mentioned with emphasis, "This particular "First Class Hotel" had a lovely patio dining area outside and just off the hotel lobby". We proceeded there forthwith.

After a tasty steak dinner under the romantic light of the stars and with hidden music playing softly in the background, we went to our previously reserved room for a much needed good night's rest. We had had a long and tiring trip sitting up on the train all day and night. Unfortunately, we did not have enough money for a sleeper berth.

In the morning, I asked for directions to our motel unit, "Ashby Courts". Our particular unit was one of many similar ones.

After we moved and had become settled, we were enjoying sitting outside of our unit on the luscious green lawn and the lovely weather. Well! Low and behold, who should come sauntering over to say hello, but, John and Dorothy Barmore. John was my old 1943 classmate, fellow inmate intern, and resident from the University Hospital. What a pleasant coincidence!

John had a car so transportation to the army post was a non entity. We had to report every morning at 7:00 am to Fort Sam Huston and the Brook Army Medical Center for rigorous calisthenics. Our entire group of neophyte officers were so far out of shape that we were huffing and puffing after only two or three "Jumping Jacks". Oh those "Push Ups". Ugh! Between med school, internship, and residency with eighty hour plus work weeks or more, none of us were in any kind of shape, except pathetic. We had to endure this humiliation every morning for six weeks. When our training was over, we were not the same slobs who had started this formidable task of conditioning. We had become lean, sleek, and knowledgeable medical officers with a very professional eye and attitude.

Our training to become Army Medical Officers was very intense and in great depth. We learned about maintaining barrack's health, knowledge of food handling, conducting a sick call, the selection and choosing of proper cuts of meat, understanding and the application of public health measures, the need for troop immunizations, handling venereal disease including giving of lectures to the troops—ugh, sanitation, and many, many other essential army service items. The Army Medical Officer has to be adequately prepared to handle many important and diverse situations on the spot.

Over time, I had to learn how to handle a unit's sick call with about two hundred men—some were sick and some were trying to get out of a twenty mile hike. There were well and sick children and women to care for. When I became a ship surgeon, with the awesome health responsibility of two thousand people aboard ship, these health items were all part of my future responsibilities. At times, these tasks were very daunting; so my detailed extensive medical officer training was put to good use in many ways and under various different guises and circumstance. These experiences translated well over into my pediatric practice as well.

During the week, we attended classes, demonstrations, and field work as part of this training. Weekends were our own. One weekend, we took a trip to Corpus Christy with the Barmores. We went deep fishing in the Gulf for an afternoon. Naturally, non-fisherwoman, Mary, caught the biggest fish—"a Drum"—amongst all of us who were at sea. Meanwhile, landlubber John Barmore sat with his head in his hands in the stern of the boat throughout the entire voyage. He was sick as a dog. Going to sea was not John's cup of tea.

On another weekend, we drove to Austin, the capitol of Texas. We toured the University of Texas campus, the state museum, and the marvelous oil exhibit depicting the exploring, finding, drilling, and refining of oil. This exhibit about oil was very educational. In addition, we toured the state capitol building.

This capitol building had a tall, open spiral staircase way up into the dome. We elected to try the long climb up the narrow stairs along with many other tourists. Well! As we proceeded up and up towards the heavens, a look down made your heart jump into your throat as it seemed so far down. People at the ground level seemed like so many ants scurrying around. As we neared the top, my stomach became a bit queasy. It was just our bad luck! Someone ahead of us had encountered an acute case of nerves, was frozen in place, and could not go onward and upward. This dilemma created a serious traffic jam. Those of us waiting on the stairs had to back down one step at a time as the stairway was too narrow for the passing of one another. The stair width would accommodate only one person at a time. It was with a sigh of great relief when the good old terra firma was reached. The four of us declined a repeat try to reach the top.

My Beloved Mary and I spent a considerable time exploring the confines of San Antonio on foot and by bus. One of our favorite spots was the Chinese Sunken Gardens, which were carved out of an old rock quarry. The ambiance was so peaceful, and the scenery was spectacular. The various adjoining garden areas were gorgeous.

Closely aligned to the Gardens was the San Antonio Zoo with its open pit type of animal enclosures. The animals were without any bars. A wide open moat separated the animals from the public. This type of treatment was most unusual at this time as the animals seemed to be out in the open without any enclosures. We visited these two areas several times.

On another occasion, we took the bus to the end of the line and walked a mile to the San Jose Mission. This Mission had been restored. This excursion was our second encounter with racial segregation. When we climbed aboard the bus, we naively strolled to the back of the bus. This action was a great big No No, we were to discover. The bus driver did not move while he waited for us to move up forward. Finally, he called out in a very loud and embarrassing voice, "You cannot ride in the back of the bus. You must move forward before I can start". Very sheepishly, we slowly stole forward with everyone watching us. How awful, this confrontation seemed to Mary and me. We were greatly embarrassed through no fault of our own except ignorance. This old way of life was very crude during this supposedly enlightened period in which we were now living.

The Franciscan Monks had established a chain of Missions, which were spaced several miles apart throughout Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and up the coast of California to San Francisco. The most popular locations, remaining today, were Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, and San Francisco. We enjoyed this brief glimpse into a long past lifestyle.

The Texas days were warm to hot; but the nights were cool due to the Gulf breezes. These breezes would roll from the Gulf inland about 7:00 pm. We enjoyed sitting in the front yard of out motel unit. Many evenings, we needed to don a sweater.

We were introduced to an unusual type of a window air conditioning unit. This unit consisted of a tray of water where a current of air from a fan was blown across the water. This unit was very efficient and cooled our unit very well even in the very hot daytime weather. We made the acquaintance with many different types of bugs and scorpions while in Texas.

The Texas moon came out almost every night along with the stars when they were not covered by clouds. The stars seemed so close that one could reach up and grab a handful. The gulf sea breezes would come during the early evenings and cool everything. Our first born, Byron Joseph, was conceived in this romantic setting though we did not know it at the time. Keeping pace with us, the Barmores conceived their firstborn, Ann Elizabeth, while here.

While John and I were busy with all types of learning activities, Dorothy and Mary would go to the Officers' Club swimming pool and bask in the sun. One day, my Beloved Mary slipped on the wet concrete and bruised her cute round bottom. My, she hurt! I ice packed and hot packed this area for several days before she could move around semi-comfortably. Such is the life of a devoted husband and a paid up member of Husbands' Union Local 404. The union rules required this action.

Due to high ground water tables, many of the Southern cities do not have storm sewers as we have them up North. When the rains would come, it frequently arrived as a deluge. It was imperative that one not be caught in an arroyo. In such a spot, the flood waters can quickly cover a car and sweep it away.

One day, I walked to the nearest grocery store for some milk and other assorted items. On the way home, I was caught in one of these deluges. I quickly became soaked through to the skin. The streets were flooded curb to curb. The sack carrying the glass bottle of milk became saturated. Well! Wouldn't you know? The bottom of the blasted sack gave way and that damn glass bottle of milk fell right smack on my big toe nail. Oh! How it hurt. I am afraid that I said, "Thunder Turtles, By Golly", and a few other choice words. I hobbled for a good while. However, the toe was no excuse for missing the morning Army conditioning exercise program. The adage was just, "Tough luck Old Bean". No sympathy was given to me by my good friend, John, or so I thought he was at that time. He had a good laugh at my expense.

One Sunday we had a brunch with the Barmores in a restaurant where Pecan Pie was featured. I literally fell in love with this new delicacy for me and enjoyed it as often as possible. We tried many of the local dishes, most of which I could bypass when they were offered on the menu.

As Mary and I would frequently stroll hand in hand around the midtown plaza, the music, "My Happiness" and "You Can't Be True Dear" filled the air everywhere we walked. The atmosphere was so melodious and romantic. Even now when the strains of these pieces are heard, my mind quickly returns to my special moments in San Antonio with my Beloved Mary. If I seem to be a romantic, I am where she is concerned. She made our marriage and my life so beautiful. Whenever I was asked to describe her, I would reply, "She is a Lady-Lady and is as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside". She owned every valve in my heart.

Our time at the Brook Medical Center and Fort Sam Huston rapidly came to an end. After our graduation exercises—the Army is big on ceremonies. We received our orders. John Barmore was assigned to the Army Beaumont General Hospital in El Paso, Texas in anesthesiology. He did not have to move very far from San Antonio. At first, I was assigned to be a Ship Surgeon out of San Francisco. Oh! What a blow. I protested my assignment vigorously. "I was a trained Pediatrician and my training would be wasted"! Apparently, my residency had not yet appeared upon the approved residency lists because it was so new. My residency was the very first pediatric residency at the Nebraska Medical Center in its entire history. This major omission from the approved lists was the reason for my ship assignment. Oh! How I volleyed and thundered with extreme passion to any one in authority. After the air was cleared and my residency was proven to be certified, I was assigned to the First Army Headquarters on Governor's Island off the tip of Manhatten. This end result was much more to my liking.

Chapter Two

To New York City by Mistake

After receiving my orders for Governor's Island, which was located off of the tip of Manhattan and in true Oberst form, I vigorously studied the time tables and brochures ad infinatum in order to contemplate the various scenic routes available to travel to New York City. This intense and time consuming study was much to my Beloved Mary's amusement. As a result of these studies, we took a train to Chicago. Our funds were limited to the $300 I had borrowed from my mother prior to leaving Omaha. Our first month's salary as a First Lieutenant was not due until the end of the month.

The ultimate choice for transportation to New York City was limited to a very few and far between options. Obviously, air flight was erased early on as being too expensive. Bus travel was both too long and too uncomfortable. Ah ha! The train was the best solution. I wanted Mary to experience as much history, see the many and variable sights, and have as much pleasure as possible. I remembered so much from my family's big trip to the 1933 World's Fair in Chicago and the subsequent travels throughout the East when I was ten years old.

After due diligence, study, and contemplation, the Missouri Pacific train to Chicago seemed the most logical and scenic way to go. We would change railroad stations, transfer trains in Chicago, and take the New York Central train to Albany, New York via Niagra Falls. After this stop at the Falls, we would take the trip down the Hudson River on the "Hudson River Day Line, which boat trip is not available any more.

After we arrived in Chicago, we used most of our day sightseeing. We visited the Field Museum of Natural History, the Shedd Aquarium, the Buckingham Fountain, and other notable sights which were within walking distance of each other and inexpensive.

When we checked in at the railroad station that evening, we learned we could obtain a lower berth for the two of us for five dollars for the overnight trip to Niagra Falls. This purchase we gladly made.

We took the overnight train traveling cuddled together in our lower birth to Niagra Falls. We spent a spectacular day wandering all around the Falls' area. We viewed the American Falls, the Canadian Horseshoe Falls, and the Rainbow bridge. We, even, braved going under the American Falls via the Cave of the Winds.

The view up the face of the Falls was spectacular and an awesome sight. Towards nightfall, we wandered over the Rainbow Bridge to the Canadian side and found a nice place for supper with a great view of the Falls. We waited and waited for the colored light show which would illuminate the Falls. It was marvelous sight to behold and was breathtaking. I had had many memories from my visit here as a boy, when I was ten years old.

As the evening wound down, we headed for the train station. Our train left Niagra Falls about 10:00 pm and arrived at Albany early in the morning in time for our "Hudson River Day Line" trip down the Hudson River. While on the river, we passed many notable historical points such as, Poughkeepsie, West Point, Stony Point, Bear Mountain, and many others too numerous to mention here. My father, having been a Lieutenant Colonel in the army reserves from World War 1, thought that I should go to West Point, but medicine had had a much stronger call for me. I turned down the opportunity for an appointment.

Most of these historical sites, which we passed, were important locations during the Revolutionary War. Being an ardent student and lover of past history, I found this trip to be fascinating. I so enjoyed showing my Beloved Mary new and interesting things. Her big beautiful brown eyes would become so large and so expressive when she would experience something new and unusual that it was a treat for me to watch. Her eyes always made me melt. I will admit that I was putty in her hands. The weather was great, and the voyage was delightful. We arrived at the New York City 36th Street Pier about 6:00 pm. (Continues...)

Excerpted from A Tale of a Mother, Her Three Boys, and Their Dogby BYRON B. OBERST Copyright © 2012 by Byron B. Oberst M.D., FAAP. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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