Dear Louie,

At the encouragement of my daughters, I thought it might be entertaining to recall a number of events which occurred during my practice of medicine which were initially strange and scary, but which with time and telling are now benign and entertaining. Entertaining, especially when told to grandchildren, on a dark summer evening while sitting around a campfire, talking listening to the night sounds, huddled under a blanket with a three year old on your lap. You can just feel their interest, their skepticism, and their doubt. You realize when they finally figure it out, “Grandpa is telling another one.” But there is always a doubt, is he or is he not telling a story, and does he really mean what he says? Always a doubt, even for the storyteller; no one is ever really sure, and each summer the stories are told over and over.

I have three stories which have been told, each episode was an event which took place during my lifetime, to me and each event was somewhat scary to me at the moment and still retains some intrigue and questions linger. I am able to feel the hair stand up on my neck when I slowly relate the stories. I normally tell these stories in the Halloween season, the time of the goblins, headless horsemen, full harvest moon, and early dark nights. Now I will reminisce about three stories and events.

The first story is true, as all three stories are true. The first is understandable, scared me, and almost prompted me to stop making house calls. Yes, I am the age of recall of house calls, many in the mid portion to the night, on cold winter evenings, on dark nights, when the city was quiet, few cars on the roads, and the street lights were mere incandescent 100 watt bulbs. For many years the city was very dark at night, the countryside was black, and cell phones were only imagined. My associates and I were very much alone walking up to, and then into an unfamiliar home, carrying the house call bag, and wishing for the warmth of the emergency room. There with the staff it was warm and secure.

One night I received a call with a request from a man to make a house call; he had no one to take him to the hospital. He did live in the city, on State Street, on the corner of State and Johnson, in the “big brick house, with the light on the porch.” “I will be upstairs, just take the steps up to the second floor, turn left, and walk down the hall to the bedroom on the right. I’m really to sick to come down, and no one is here who is able to drive.”

Those were the instructions.

I followed the instructions, entered the front door. The stairwell was to the left, a dull hall bulb barely cut the darkness of the night. I swallowed, called to the patient, and a voice from afar told me to come up. This really wasn’t the usual house call, but up the steps I went. The steps went up four steps, turned to the right and went up six more steps. The hallway at the top turned to the left, it was dark, only the light from the street light filtered into the hall. The doorway was cracked and a light shown through the opening. As I proceeded down the hall a form floated from the doorway on the opposite side of the hall. The form was clothed in a dress or gown, from the head to the floor; the head of the figure was snowy white; no sound or voice emanated from the quietly shuffling form.

No sound in the hall way except the moaning of the sick patient in the bedroom at the end of the hall. I gathered my wits and said,”Who are you?”

A quiet voice said,“I am Le Roy’s Mother. Follow me.” I did, she turned about, opened the bedroom door at the end of the hall, and there in a barely lit room found Le Roy, moaning, sick, and suffering from gallbladder disease. The form was his Mother, an elderly slight, gray haired woman in a long white nightgown. She shuffled in her night slippers, was hard of hearing, and quiet in nature. She left, went back to her room, sort of gliding along the darkened hallway.

My pulse returned to normal, I examined LeRoy, called the ambulance, assisted in carrying LeRoy down the steps and drove to the hospital. I was really scared from the apparition of that ghost like figure quietly floating down the hall appearing from nowhere, saying little and then disappearing back into her room. The story got good coverage when told in the Emergency Room. Le Roy did well.

Watch out for the spooks, Louie,

Jim