ENPages
Another version of "A Plain Country Doctor", entitled "A Small Town Doctor", can be found on pages 154A-177. In two deleted version, entitled "I'm Just a Plain Country Doctor", additional information is given, Line fifteen on page 803 and line two on page 812 read: "Doctor somp'n's wrong" and "but truthfully". The name of the interviewer, Lawrence Evans, the area the interviewer worked in, Baldwin County, and the place of the interview, Foley, Alabama, appear on the top of the page 801C. The following notes are written on the same page: "this is the Doctor's story which was revised. W.T.C," "Change names and type", and "Revised by Jack Kytle and Luther Clark." On the last page is Lawrence Evan's signature and the notation (in the bottom left hand corner), 2/16/39/S.J. Otherwise the material in these deleted versions is identical with material in the life history included here.
[column 1] Places and persons as they appear in "A Plain Country Doctor" [line break] Dr. Clark Evening Herald University various camps
Doc Clark
[column 2] Places and persons as they appear in "I'm Just A Plain Country Doctor" [line break] Dr. Abernethy Montgomrey Advertiser University of Alabama various camps, including Pike, Beauregard, Dix, Ogelthorpe, and Merritt Doc Ab
801A
AL-87
Foley, Alabama
A PLAIN COUNTRY DOCTOR
450
"Another baby coming," called Doc to his assistant as he replaced the telephone receiver.
"Everything's ready, doctor," she said, handing him a bulky little black bag.
Doc reached for his hat and turned to me.
"Look you come along," he said; "We can talk on the way."
"Let me stop and get a magazine to read while you're working."
"You won't need it; you're going to help me."
When we were in the car Doc continued, "You know, I believe I remember this patient. I think I came out here nine years ago. It was one of the toughest obstetrical cases I ever had; a case of version. That's where the child's head fails to make the proper passage, and the feet and head are exactly backwards. The woman had pains and convulsions for eleven hours. I thought I was going to lose them both. I finally failed to get the head right and had to deliver the infant feed first with forceps. Everything was wrong; but they both did fine. I think this is the same woman, living in the same turpentine camp."
He reached a straight stretch on the sandy road and pressed harder on the accelerator.
"Look, Dr. Clark," I said, clinging to the door handle, let's start at the beginning and talk about what has happened during your life."
"Sure but there's nothing terrific, I reckon." he replied.
801C
- 2 -
"I am the son of a Methodist preacher. The male members of our family have see-sawed back and forth between the ministry and medicine as far back as the record goes, even when my family lived in Scotland. We've lived in the South for six generations.
"I reckon 1 always wanted to be a doctor. When I was a boy I was always giving sick animals medicine and cutting into them if they didn't get well. I took two years of pre-med work at Southern University. But when I got out of there, I didn't know how I could go ahead with my medical studies. You know how poor preachers are.
"So to get money for the rest of my course, I went to work in the circulation department of the Evening Herald. Then my grandfather died, and I went home for the funeral. There, the subject of my training was discussed. Well, they all said it was just too bad; all except my bachelor uncle Will who was a doctor and owned a drug store at Fitzgerald. He made me a proposition to come and live with him, work in his store in the summer, and go to school in winter.
"I finished at the University in 1916 and went back to Fitzgerald to help Uncle Will. I felt that I could begin paying him back; and at the same time be getting a little training as an intern.
"The Government solved the problem of accredited hospital internship, because the World War came along and all young doctors were admitted as first lieutenants in the Army. Some of them were given full credit for internship, and I was one of the fortunate ones. I spent two years in various camps, including some base camps and spike camps. I've forgotten some of the camps now; but I had plenty of
802
- 3 -
experience with men's diseases.
He slowed the motor as we approached a group of shanties. "Must he the place here," he said, "We'll stop and see."
We heard a shriek inside one of the shanties, and he immediately cut off the motor.
"This is it, all right," he said. "Come on in."
"Well, look. Doc Clark," I protested. "I believe I'll Just wait out here. I can hear enough without going in."
"Come on -- come on!," he said with a flash of impatience.
A fat Negro woman met us at the door. Four Negro children, apparently between the ages of three and seven, were scattered around the filthy room. A three-legged stool was beside the bed, where the midwife had been sitting. She had sent her man two miles to telephone, and we had arrived before his return.
"Doctor, somethin's wrong," said the midwife, "Ah can't do no good. You remembers this woman; she's Susan Jenks."
"Yes," the doctor said, "I remember attending her. How many has she had since?"
"Well, ah's delivered five, doctah, and you done brought de fust one."
Doctor Clark went over to the groaning woman. "This seems to be another case of version." After an examination he turned to me and said; "very similar to the other one I was telling you about. This should be less difficult. The fact that several children hare been born since then makes it easier for her now.
"Get me some clean cloths -- clean, now," he ordered the midwife,
803