I need to show how important a part each of two men played in my life at a critical time. One was of course, our Uncle Phil with a capital U. and the other is Uncle Bill Johnson with a capital J. They both stepped up at a time in my life when I was a sick kid with a lot of problems.
They did the impossible for me. Things that were not possible for me but were simply everyday things in their ways of life. And as always, Uncle Phil stands at the top of the Throne of our family, a well earned place.

In 1950 while attending a company teleprinter school in Toledo, Ohio I became very Ill feeling after approximately two hours after class started. The instructor asked me If I was ill and I replied that I was but I had no idea what was causing it. It seemed As if I couldn’t get enough air and I had a pain starting at the upper left front area of My left shoulder and starting to move downward and spread from there.

I began to suspect that I was having a heart attack because I could feel each heartbeat In a way I had never before experienced. The instructor asked me if I wanted to go to A doctor or hospital and advised me that the company doctor was in the same Building but at the far end which was about a city block away. The instructor said He would get someone from the office to take me to the doctor’s office.

After a ten-minute wait and no one arriving I decided to walk there on my own. I wasn’t in great pain at that time; I just had the strange feelings. I went outside And as I started walking a wave of pain hit me that was so strong I stopped walking, leaned against the building, and slowly dropped to a sitting position against the side of the building to rest until it eased.

After a few seconds I got up to continue and I was too weak. I asked a man walking past on the sidewalk if he would assist me. He looked at me like I was an evil animal and turned away muttering, “damned drunk.” I was surprised, but then angered. That anger gave me the drive to get up and continue to the doctor’s office a few more feet away.

After the doctor checked and x-rayed me he declared that I had a "Spontaneous Pneumothorax" ( Lung Collapse). That alone was enough to really scare a 23 year old kid in a strange city. I asked the doctor if it would require surgery or would it heal on it’s own over time. He told me I could go back to the hotel and eat 6 small meals a day, do nothing but bed rest and call him if it got worse. He knew that lungs seldom inflate when they have spilled their contents into the pleural space. It’s like trying to fill a balloon inside another balloon. It requires getting the trapped air out of the space the lungs normally occupy and when the leak is closed the lungs will open and function normally. All of that is normally done with a large needle inserted between two ribs and into the pleural Space to aspirate the patient. Simple and effective but when a patient goes for too long a period of time with a collapsed lung, fluids move into the spaces and can’t be removed with a simple needle aspiration.

After six days of hotel bed rest I was not improving, in fact was getting worse so we called home. Mother and dad called uncle Phil and it wasn’t long before our 'Knight on the white stallion' arrived with Dad. He arranged for Dad to fly to Detroit, then the two of them drove to Toledo to get me and my first wife who had come To Toledo with me.

The company doctor was quickly recognized as a self-serving man who was looking forward to monetary gain instead of a patient’s best interest so against his wishes I was taken to another doctor to see if I was able to travel. The plan was to take me to Detroit’s Ford hospital for treatment.

The result was, I wasn’t able to fly and if traveling by car, must be very careful of jolts or bumps that might trigger a heart attack, etc, etc. We made the trip with no problems.

The problems began when they wouldn’t admit me to the hospital. They were full and had no space available. Once again family came to my rescue. Uncle Bill was a close friend of the hospital administrator and one phone call was all it took and I was in a room and bed quicker than the snap of a finger and in the capable hands of a thoracic expert, doctor Silverman.

I don’t know what I would have done had it not been for uncle Phil and Uncle Bill. So Virginia, when you read this, you will know of another of Your dad’s good deeds that I will remember as long as I live. God bless them.

After 6 days in the teaching hospital I was dismissed and uncle Phil took me to his home in Farmington and treated me like royalty. That was when I met Ben and Corrine. We didn’t spend a great amount Of time together but I well remember those hours as so enjoyable. Ben used to have a way of turning his eyelids up that made his eyes look strange and we all got a laugh at that. Aunt Rose would admonish him in her mild way by telling him he would be unhappy if his eyelids remained that way. Those were good memory building days with family around and the knowledge that someone cared. I miss the family times. But as we know, all things must end some day. This story will end now though it continues in my memory and its lifetime will be extended when you read and remember it.