MEMORIALS

I have lost a good friend with the passing of Gene Blum. It was a friendship that built slowly over many years, in keeping with Gene’s quite, reserved demeanor. He was bright, witty and very involved in the ongoing events of the world, both locally and globally. His love for his family seemed deep and abiding. In his quiet way, he was forever doing kind and sensitive gestures for those around him, whether to be pitching in to help in the step-aerobic classes we shared over many years or researching medical issues and sending information to colleagues who seemed stuck on a particular issue.These things he did quietly without much ado, because he just liked to help. He had a zest for life, a love of people, and his work as a physician. We have a lost a complex, gentle soul.

James William (Bill) Clague, M.D.

1922-2006

I’ve known Bill for over 25 years as a surgeon and as a man of many talents. A man with a wonderful sense of humor, always on the
move, and with boundless energy. He frequently discussed his early years which included living and attending school in Shanghai, China. On returning to the United States he attended Stanford, where he obtained a B.Sc. in Mathematics and played outfield for the Stanford baseball team. He also attended medical school at Stanford, and served in the military during the Korean War. Upon his discharge he completed his surgical residency and became Board Certified in General Surgery. He joined Norm Christensen and Joseph Walsh in Eureka, bringing Martha, his wife, and his family to permanently reside and practice in the area. He was a member of many medical associations, and served as Chief of the Medical Staff of the Eureka General Hospital. I first met him while I was working in the Emergency Department of the General, and knew that whenever I had a patient needing surgery that he would be there in about 30 seconds and have them on their way to the OR. He loved surgery, joking with his colleagues, fishing and bragging about it, golfing (but needed his green jacket and plaid pants), camping with his family and friends and going home to be with Martha, not necessarily in that order. He would break whatever he was doing to say, “ I got to get home to my little bed bunny” and he would zoom out the door. Bill retired in 1989, and traveled for several years with Martha and Tenzing (his cat) in their RV. Bill led a full and exciting life, always going at great speed to wherever he was headed. He contributed years of excellent surgical care to the community and I believe loved every minute of it. He provided great surgical skill along with a fun-loving and caring heart and will be missed by many old friends. We will not see another “Bill.”

James S. Eley, M.D., a retired family practice physician passed away July 28, 2000, at the age of 84.
Dr. Eley was born in Lima, Ohio in 1916. He received his medical degree from Ohio State University in 1942. He enlisted in the army during World War II and served as a Post Surgeon at Camp Molgrie, North Carolina. At the end of the war he moved to Eureka where he established a private practice. Dr. Eley served as the President of the Humboldt-Del Norte County Medical Society in 1958. Dr. Eley was a 50 year member of the Shriners, having received his 32nd degree; a member of Post 212 - American Legion, in Eureka; a member of Tahoe Amateur Radio Association; Member of the Board St. Joseph Hospital, Eureka; and a past president of the Ingomar Club.
Dr. Eley had a great love of the outdoors. He enjoyed hunting, bringing home many trophies, and fishing, especially deep sea fishing. He built his own boat, the BEME named after his children. He supervised and helped in the construction of that and many others. He owned and lived on a ranch in Eureka raising cattle.
In 1975, Dr. Eley retired and joined various cruise ship lines as Ship’s Surgeon. He circled South America and traveled extensively in the South Pacific, the Orient, and many other countries. He later moved to Lake Tahoe, Nevada.
Dr. Eley is survived by his wife, two daughters, one son, and five grandchildren. Remembrances may be made to the Shriner Children’s Hospital in Sacramento or the Ohio Masonic Home (for the aged) in Springfield, Ohio.

M y partner and friend, Allan Goodman died Nov 11, 2004, at his home on Humboldt Hill after a more than 10 year battle with thymic carcinoma. Those 10 years saw Allan undergo two thoracotomies, radiation, pleurodesis, and innumerable courses of chemotherapy. Allan did not “go gentle into that good night,” but when he realized he had exhausted all potentially effective therapies, he accepted the inevitable with the active involvement and dignity with which he lived his life.
Allan was born in Santa Monica, the son of a general practitioner. He attended U.C. Berkeley, where he met his future wife, Lori Bernstein, whom he married in the summer of 1963. They went off for medical school at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, then an internship and residency at U.C.L.A. followed by fulfilling his Berry Plan military commitment with a year in Long Binh in Vietnam and then a year in Colorado Springs. Allan returned to U.C.L.A. to complete his residency then studied hepatology under Telford Reynolds at U.S.C.
The Goodmans lived across the corridor from Larry and Terri Hill during internship at U.C.L.A. and maintained their friendship as they went their separate ways through training and the military. When each needed to decide on a practice after fellowship, Larry Hill told Allan about an opportunity Gary Baker had told him about in Fortuna. The community was offering a paid recruiting trip to visit, which they did, and both families decided to move to the area and associate with Ted Welton. A year later Allan and Larry decided to join with Jerome Lengyel to form Eureka Internal Medicine. They were the first Board Certified Internists in the county.
In the mid 70’s there were no gastroenterologists in the area, and endoscopy was in its infancy. Having been trained in hepatology, Allan saw that he was the right fit to fill Eureka’s need for endoscopy services and grew with the field to eventually limit his practice to gastroenterology and perform the wide range of endoscopy for the community. And he did it skillfully.
Jack Irvine joined E.I.M. in 1975, and Cyril Barch and I joined in 1980. Eureka Internal Medicine continued to expand over the years to our present size of 17 doctors and 3 mid levels. Allan was always our heart and conscience. He deeply believed in quality medical care, had a keen eye for the business of medicine, and was a prime mover and visionary for our group.
Allan loved medicine but also loved his non-professional life. He encouraged me to take up fly fishing though I never could hope to approach his dedication and skill in the sport. He made yearly pilgrimages to Christmas Island for its world class bonefishing, and innumerable forays into our local waters for steelhead. In years past he was heavily into volleyball in area traveling leagues, and skiing at Bend, Oregon. But, next to Lori and his daughters, I sensed that Allan’s greatest love was golf. He learned it at a very early age, and was junior champion in Los Angeles for several years. I seem to recall that he once told me that there was a time when he had to decide whether to become a professional golfer or go into medicine. Myth or not, he served both masters for much of his life, and was beyond good in each field.
I met Allan the day I arrived in Humboldt County. It was Allan who asked me to move to Eureka Internal Medicine from Arcata four years later. I admired who he was and what he accomplished. Our practice is where it is today because of his vision. Humboldt County medicine has greatly benefited from his skills. He will be dearly missed.

Mike was born November 10, 1913 in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. His parents had recently emigrated from the area of Eastern Europe which would become Czechoslovakia in 1919. He attended undergraduate school at Carroll College in Cleveland, Ohio, and graduated from Loyola University School of Medicine, Chicago, in 1941. His internship at the U S Army’s Letterman General Hospital in San Francisco was a much more rewarding venture than a civilian internship: Cook County Hospital, in Chicago, was paying interns $10.00 per month, plus board, room, and laundry.
Enter fair maid: Marion, who, having completed her nurses training, had also joined the army and was stationed at Letterman. Love at first sight? Well, almost: they were married late in his internship year. Because of army regulations, Marion had to resign her commission.
Mike was then sent to the Medical Field Service School at Carlisle Barracks, Pennsylvania for medical and dental officer’s basic training ; which included close-order drill (formation marching). There was a parallel program at Carlisle Barracks for enlisted men, who were then commissioned in the Medical Administrative Corps. (I later earned my M.A.C. Commission there).
Mike decided to transfer from the Regular Army to the Army Air Corps, and soon after was sent to Southern China by way of India and Burma. His Commanding Officer was General Chennault, who had been the air advisor to Chiang-Kai-Shek, and who had also formed the American Volunteer Group known as the “Flying Tigers.” The Chinese and American troops were under the command of Chiang-Kai-Shek and General “Vinegar Joe” Stilwell: neither could abide the other. Chiang-Kai-Shek later had Stilwell relieved of his command. Later, Stilwell, in his writings, referred to Chiang-Kai-Shek as “the peanut.”
Flying equipment and supplies from airstrips in Burma into Southern China, and wounded and sick soldiers out, was extremely hazardous with the C-47 (the military version of the DC-3) aircraft used: The operating ceiling of the planes was lower than the mountain peaks! Later, the “Burma Road” carried most of this traffic.
After the war, Mike returned to Letterman Hospital to begin his orthopedic residency. During his rotation at Shriner’s Hospital he met his future partner, Paul Grigorieff, an orthopedic resident at the University of California in San Francisco. Along came the Korean Conflict: Mike was assigned to a MASH (Mobile Army Surgical Hospital) and following that was stationed in Puerto Rico, where he decided his Army Life was over.
Mike joined Paul Grigorieff in practice in Eureka in 1954. Their office was in the old Medical Arts Building at 6^th and G Streets, and their phone number was Hillside 2 1105 (Arcata was Van Dyke 2, and Fortuna was Randolph 5). They built a new office on Harrison Avenue at the corner of St. Joseph drive, and later were joined by Kenneth Roberts, Ed Emmons, and Robert Sampson. Mike retired in 1981.
I was associated with Mike for many years, initially having an office across the hall. I found him to be a genuinely kind man. He was completely apolitical, gracious, and collegial. He loved to fish, especially on the Smith River, where he had a cabin at one time. He and Marion’s homestead in Freshwater was his pride and joy: Marion, who remains completely independent, lives there. He is also survived by his six children: daughters Barbara, of Eureka, and Cathie, of Maui; and sons Michael, of Chico, Kieth, of Grant’s Pass, Bruce, of Calistoga, and Greg, of Eureka.

(Editors Note: Mike and I were both army medics who took care of aviators: he in WWII, I in Viet Nam. He had a number of “war stories” about flying through the mountain passes in Burma, which was called “flying the hump”. The airplanes were unable to fly over the mountains, so the pilots had to weave through the valleys between. Weather forecasting varied between primitive and nonexistent and radio beacons were primitive and unreliable. There were many fatal crashes. Mike could have stayed in his clinic on the ground but…being Mike…he opted to ride along on some of the missions to have a better idea of the conditions and stresses his patients were facing. He was always quietly dismissive about it and felt it was just part of the job, nothing special.
We young docs sometimes feel we’ve outstripped the old timers. In many ways, we have: we’re smarter about prions, MRSA and such, and we are comfortable with InformationTechnology.But for humility, guts and compassion, few of us will ever match Mike Hitchko.

by George Ingraham)

The fall was always a special time on the Klamath River and Klamath River was a special place for John Machen. A memory: Fishing the River one September evening, I see John in his boat returning from up river, and he slows to spy what's happening. He hands me a beer. Bam!-fish on. My right hand hanging on to a fly rod bent to the handle, left hand holding on to a cold beer, foaming out the popped top, and in his boat grinning is one of the best friends I ever had.
I'll always be grateful to John for teaching me how to boat and fish the Klamath River. He taught me with such patience that I remember learning with out paying dues. John wasn't just a good fisherman; he was one of those rare fishermen who could revel in watching one of his friends play a fish. John was there for my first Steelhead on the Klamath. He also witnessed my hooking a Sucker fish on a fly, whence I proved Suckers can't jump. We laughed about that for days. Fishing with John always seemed to make the fish less important and the days more special. He felt getting people to respect fish was more important than hooking fish.
I remember stopping along the Klamath for a relief from the afternoon wind in John's boat. He stepped out on shore, lit up a cigar and casually cast out to an unlikely spot because that's why we were there wasn't it? John hooked into a bruiser. The fish realized it just before he did and the fish ran straight at him. As he started stumbling backward towards shore, the surprise of this unexpected fish propelled that cigar like a cruise missile from his mouth across the water. Whenever someone lights up a cigar that scene replays for me. Fishing with John often meant getting more excited about someone else's fish than he did. That may have been the lesson he taught me.
John was mechanically gifted, one of those invaluable individuals upon whom those of us who couldn't be trusted with a hammer or screwdriver depended. He knew a lot about engines, boats, planes and "guy" stuff. With his boys he built a custom boat and re-built two airplanes. He had faith in things mechanical. If equipment failed to function properly, it was probably due to operator error. All could be salvaged; all could be fixed.
A natural Urologist, John practiced in Eureka for more than twenty years. He often untangled many of our patients from some dire problem. For a Gynecologic Surgeon a Urologist is like a life guard. He was always available and had a reassuring calmness in his manner that seems typical of skilled surgeons. He offered help to his colleagues and offered hope to his patients. Along with his associates, he brought new and more efficacious treatment modalities to Humboldt County.
Growing up in Iowa, John's ethos was definitely Mid-Western, John Deere through and through. I think that accounted for his dry sense of humor, responsible also for his red hair and boyish grin. So many people living in California are from elsewhere. John valued family, friends and the outdoors. Always grateful for small gifts, he accepted them with grace. John and I shared a similar hairline, so a hat was not just a personal statement, but rather a necessity in the outdoors. I remember a hat I wore that John admired. The only one left in the store was an awful purple color, probably even too small for him. Yet he treasured that hat, knowing it was purchased with the currency of friendship.
John exalted in the successes his boys enjoyed, small or large, fishing or otherwise. He recognized and took pride in Matthew's musical prowess. So much so, that I remember at one point he said he was taking up the Sax himself. Scott was already finessing the trombone. For his sons, he was selfless. Teaching Scott to fly fish was high on his agenda. As time went by, John passionately tried to fill the inevitable gaps in his family life and marriage that a career in Medicine leaves behind, like potholes. Time spent with his wife and children became the measure of time's worth.
One dusky evening, John shared with me how he viewed the Klamath River as his sanctuary. He'd muse how the river was always changing yet always constant. Absent John, that river won't ever be the same for many of us. Fortunately, few of us will ever understand the onslaught of despair that swept him away, but there are many of us who would give a lot to fish just one more day with John Machen. Our prayers go with his family.

Floyd, a first generation American, was born, lived and died in Humboldt County. His Italian parents immigrated to Humboldt in the early 1900’s, and, as a youngster, he helped support his parents and six sisters by selling newspapers and repairing typewriters in downtown Eureka. His humble beginnings didn’t stop him from excelling academically. He attended Humboldt State College and graduated magna cum laude from UC Berkeley as a member of Phi Beta Kappa.
Floyd started out to be a surgeon, but was midway through his five year surgical residency at the University of California, San Francisco, when he developed pulmonary tuberculosis and was forced to give up surgical training. After he was treated for TB he changed to anesthesiology, finished his training, and returned to Humboldt County. Thus Floyd’s misfortune became Humboldt’s fortune. Years later his former chief, Leon Goldman (Senator Diane Feinstein’s father) who was Professor and Chair of the Department of Surgery, told Norm Christensen that the surgical faculty at UCSF had already identified Floyd, when he was in mid-training, as someone that they wished to retain on the faculty.
But Floyd could not completely shake his surgical training. When giving anesthesia he watched surgeons critically. Joe Walsh, Bill Clague, Norm Christensen, George Husband, and John Van Speybroeck were often the recipients of comments from Floyd as he bent over the anesthesia screen to see what we were doing. Authoritative comments floated down from the head of the table: “Don’t you think a transverse incision would be better?” Or: “That patient would probably do better with an end – to – end anastamosis instead of the side to side one.” The reply to Floyd would almost invariably be, “Yes, Floyd, you’re probably right!”
He helped bring anesthesia excellence to Humboldt County. For a time, he and Terry Kerrigan were the only anesthesiologists at St. Joseph Hospital. If they were giving anesthesia one did not worry; there would be no anesthesia catastrophe.
Floyd was quick and believed in doing things on time. If surgeons were late to start a case he could become very disturbed and berate the person to the surgical nurses. However, when the surgeon poked his head in the door he was able to control his annoyance, much to the nurses’ displeasure, who felt the same way as Floyd did. John Van Speybroeck remembers that when he first came to Eureka, fresh out of an academic setting, he lay down for a nap after scheduling an appendectomy at 4 AM, believing that he had a least an hour before Dr. Marchi got there. He had barely closed his eyes when the phone rang. It was Floyd: “Where are you? Let’s get going. We are all set.”
Nurses loved and admired Floyd. Perhaps he grouched now and then but it was not about them. He was patient, instructive, and loved to teach. He allowed (even encouraged) RN’s and student nurses to practice inserting IV’s into his own arm. Floyd had large veins!
Floyd was generous but also prudent. When playing with his poker group, a group that had been together for 10 – 20 years, he always made it a practice of taking his money with him if he had to leave the poker table temporarily. One night it looked as if he was about to have a change of heart. After pondering a while he got up leaving the money on the table, walked half way out of the room, had second thoughts, turned around, came back and picked up his money.
When Floyd retired he found a new passion: art and sculpting. At Humboldt State University he studied under Mort Scott where he learned sculpture and turned out distinguished pieces. Professor Scott says that Floyd told him that when he was young he wanted to be an artist but his family wanted him to be a physician. Scott says that Floyd had extraordinary talent and that anyone that has one of his pieces is “very lucky.” Scott says that Floyd had a wonderful eye and that he could model anything--so accurately that it could almost be mistaken for a photograph. But in addition to his realism he had a superb talent for the abstract.
As he was admired for his help and understanding by the nurses at St. Joseph Hospital so he was admired by the students at HSU. Scott says “the students loved him.”
Indeed, they don’t make them like they used to.!!!!

On Monday, August 9, 1999, Humboldt County lost one of its finest physicians, following a massive C.V.A. He was someone who quietly contributed much to our community and to our medical society in many ways.
Ken was born in Alameda, CA on July 7, 1923 and moved to San Francisco at an early age. Ken’s father, Eugene John Mooslin, had immigrated from Ukraine, Russia, with his family. In the early 1900s. Ken’s father became a lawyer and practiced law in San Francisco for many years. His uncles were also professionals, one a general practitioner, two attorneys. Ken graduated from Balboa High School in San Francisco, received an A.B. in 1944 from U. C. Berkeley, and his M.D. in 1946 from the U. S. Medical School in San Francisco. While in medical school he served in the U. S. Army A.S.T.P.Program. After graduation he served an internship in surgery at the Mount Zion Hospital in San Francisco, followed by eighteen months as a resident in Urology at the Veterans Administration Miley Hospital in San Francisco. This was interrupted by a return to the Army as a Captain and Chief of the Urology Department for three years at Camp Roberts near Monterey. After being discharged from the Army he returned to UCSF to complete urological training. He was a member of the Northern California Urological Society and the San Francisco County Medical Society. In 1954, his urological training completed, Ken, Betty and their two sons, Craig and Gary, moved to Eureka. He was associated with Stan Schmidt in private practice in urology, becoming the second urologist in the North Coast.
I had the pleasure to getting to know Ken almost from the day he arrived in Eureka, and was happy to nominate him for membership in our medical society in 1954. The forty-five years that Ken was a member of the Society he served on many committees and particularly in many community activities. The most worthy of mentioning were his coordinating a group of physicians to do free physicals each year for boys participating in scouting, Little League baseball and Pops football. The second was involvement in the Poliomyelitis Immunization Program in 1959. He convinced the medical society members that we should join with the local chapter of the Poliomyelitis Foundation and the local P.T.A. to set up low cost clinics in an all-out effort to eliminate poliomyelitis on our north coast. The program consisted of clinics, set up throughout the county in July, August and February 1960, staffed by society physicians, as a cost of $1.00 per person to help defray the cost of the vaccine. The program was a huge success and even generated a small surplus which was donated to the Medical Society’s Nursing Scholarship program. In 1957, the Society decided to start a Bulletin to keep our members better informed. Again, Ken was very much involved from the inception and served on the Publications Committee serving as the associate editor during 1957 and 1958. In 1959, he became the editor. Some of the editorials he wrote during 1959, such as “the Rising Cost of Apathy”, “C.M.A. Again Leads the Way”, “E = DPE/LW” were timely for 1959 and in many ways apply to the problems we face today in the practice of medicine
Many of us in the Medical Society urged Ken to run for office in the society. He always refused stating that most of his spare time was dedicated to Betty, Gary, Craig, the Boy Scouts and other activities. In deed, there were other activities. He had been an Eagle Scout in San Francisco and on arriving in Eureka, immediately became involved in scouting activities. He served as President of the Redwood- Empire Boy Scouts Council in 1967. He was awarded the Silver Bear Award, the highest honor from the Boy Scouts of America, for his services. He was a Hunter Safety instructor for many years. He and his wife and sons were avid trap and skeet shooting enthusiast. He was a past president of the local Trap & Skeet Club. He was an excellent photographer and processed his film in his own dark room. He loved pets which included a monkey, birds, dogs, cats and fish. He loved camping, fishing, and hunting with his family. He also played the organ and was the chess champion at Balboa High School in San Francisco in 1941.
Ken retired from active practice in 1985 at the age of 62 because of health programs. He had inherited diabetes from his mother and developed hypertensive cardiovascular disease with complications, which forced an early retirement. Despite his health problems, he and Betty continued to participate in many local activities and were always available when needed. My last contact with Ken was on Sunday, August 8, 1999. We were attending the 50th wedding anniversary of two old friends at the Fortuna River Walk Center. Ken, Betty, Ruth and I decided to leave the party a little early so we walked out to the parking lot together. I will always remember how pleased Ken was to see so many of his old patients, and physician friends again.
Ken was a person of great character, endowed with thoughtfulness, selflessness, wisdom and a great sense of humor. He was a compassionate, caring physician who in his own quiet and unassuming way has left an indelible mark on Humboldt County.

Ted Loring passed away peacefully in his sleep early Sunday morning, May 11th, 2003. Even at 86 years old, he remained active and sharp, enjoying the company of family, friends, and his wife of nearly 60 years, Ruth. He was still professionally involved with the Humboldt-Del Norte Medical Society, Norcal Mutual Insurance, and the Pacific Coast Obstetric and Gynecologic Society.
Ted was born November 23rd, 1916, in Belize (then British Honduras). He came to the United States at age 16 to pursue his education. He ultimately graduated from Stanford University with a B.S. in 1943. He received his Doctorate in Medicine from Stanford in 1946, and following two years in the US Army Medical Corp, returned for his residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology. In 1951, displaying qualities that would become prominent in the years to come, Ted decided to forgo lucrative offers in the Bay area and join Paul Roberts, MD, in a small remote coastal town in far northern California. There, the need for his skills as a board certified OB/GYN was much greater.
What followed was a career that spanned more than four decades and over 6,000 deliveries. Ted was an excellent clinician and a skilled surgeon, well liked by his patients and his colleagues. Ted received many awards recognizing his professional excellence. Two of the more prestigious awards were his election into the Pacific Coast OB/GYN Society in 1972 and the Frederick K. M. Plessner Award from the CMA in 1988. The Pacific Coast OB/GYN Society is an invitation only organization dedicated to excellence in the development and delivery of health care to women through the collaboration of physician educators, researchers, and private practitioners. Ted became President of the group in 1996. The Plessner Award is given to physicians who best exemplify service to rural areas.
Ted’s intelligence, excellence and drive were not limited to his practice of medicine. Ted was a community leader as well. In response to a local shortage of nurses, Ted was instrumental, with Dr. Homer Balbonis, in starting the nursing program at HSU. When a 1967 law allowed third party payers to contract directly with physicians, Ted served as a founding member and President of the Humboldt-Del Norte Foundation for Medical Care. In response to the malpractice crisis in 1975, Ted became a founding director and Treasurer of Norcal Mutual Insurance Co. When a high rate of home births jeopardized the quality of maternal care in the area, Ted organized and provided physician back-up services for midwives at the Humboldt Perinatal Clinic. As the first physician director of Union Labor Hospital Board, Ted worked to ensure the survival of General Hospital during the financial hardships of the 1980’s. When General was eventually lost, he converted Union Labor’s assests into the Union Labor Health Foundation, a charitable association providing grants to local organizations for health care pursuits. Throughout his life, he was also active in his church, Boy Scouts, Rotary, KEET-TV, Baywood Country Club, and the Ingomar Club.
I knew Ted for a very short 16 years. During that time he was my partner, my mentor, my confidant, and my very close friend. Ted was intelligent, compassionate, talented, and humble. He had undying respect for others, whether friend or patient or stranger. Ted had a way of seeing the good in people, even when it was difficult to find. Ted was fair and honest. Ted served the people of the North Coast unwaveringly for over five decades as a physician, community member, and friend. He gave to us much more than he asked in return. I feel very privileged to have known him and to have called him my friend. Thank you, Ruth, for sharing him so graciously with us all. I will miss him very much.

Dr. Jerold Phelps died quietly at his home in Garberville on Christmas Day 2006, surrounded by his wife, Betty, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. For over 50 years, Dr. Phelps had been a highly respected physician and prominent member of the Southern Humboldt County Community. Among his many achievements and contributions were his years on the Board of the College of the Redwoods, his service to the Humboldt-Del Norte County Medical Society and his passionate devotion to the California Bamboo Society. He helped build the existing hospital in Garberville and was honored by having the hospital renamed the Jerold Phelps Community Hospital in 1997.
Jerold Edgar Phelps was born in Wheatland, Wyoming on March 15, 1924, the second youngest of six children. When still a young child, his family relocated to Fontana, in Southern California and Jerold has stayed in California ever since. He was in college in Santa Maria when WWII began, and at that point joined the Navy, who sent him through medical school in Galveston, Texas. It was in Texas that he met a local beauty queen, Bettie Todd, and they were soon married. Jerry finished his Navy service in San Juan, Puerto Rico, then finished his surgery training in New York.
It was in 1955 when Jerry returned to California and answered an ad for a general surgeon in a booming logging town in Northern California. He came to work in Garberville with Dr. Leland Lowen as the town’s second doctor-surgeon. Not long afterward, Dr. Lowen left and Jerry found Dr. Jack Pearson; these two surgeons enjoyed decades of close professional association and even closer friendship. Together, Jerry and Jack served the surgical and medical needs of Southern Humboldt Co. Jerry Phelps never really did retire, although he did cut back his practice in later years, still seeing old friends and patients until a few months before his death.
The 2001-2002 Physician Membership Resource Directory was very deservingly dedicated to Jerry. The dedication article is posted on-line on the Medical Society’s website: in the Historical Section. Nomination for the CMA Plessner Award came up several times, however, part of the criteria for the award is that the nominees cannot be retired status............. although Jerry never really “retired”........he tried several times and sought the status on paper, which made him ineligible for nomination. The following quotes were pulled from the Dedication article from 1997:
Comments from Bill Hunter’s................
“Medical times changed during Jerry's sojourn in southern Humboldt county, as did the culture and the economy. Throughout the changes he remained a perfect gentleman and cared for the needs of all the region's citizens. He was responsible for the real world training of a number of young doctors who came to town and was always willing to get up at night an help put in a dislocated shoulder, sew a finger back on, or help with a difficult birth.
Comments from Mark Phelps..........
As I look at rural medicine today, and reflect on what a commitment my father made to this community back in 1955, I realize rare that combination of effort and ability has become. Even back then, when Dad and Jack recruited the occasional third partner, he would never be a physician with the experience and skill to do the emergency surgery, difficult emergency room cases or the anesthesia or OB needed to keep this busy hospital going. Even those days, theoretically, when Dad could relax, the telephone inevitably would ring and there would be an emergency appendectomy or amputation or GI bleed to deal with, as transferring to Eureka was simply not done for those cases. I am sure that Dad realized what a uniquely stressful commitment he had undertaken, but never in all of the years I was growing up did I hear one complaint or harsh word when the phone would ring again, just after or even during dinner, an off he would go once again to perhaps return before we went to bed or perhaps not.
Certainly all of my surgical skills, often limited to minor abdominal procedures or
Cesarian sections, I truly learned with my father "assisting". Even the basics of wound closure, I realized had been poorly conveyed to me in residency, but a careful and meticulous surgeon with decades of experience could gently show me by example and instruction on the most "tissue friendly" method in which to handle wounds. A lot of Dad's surgical training and philosophy were aimed toward plastic surgery and that idea was always in the background of his care and treatment of human tissue. Furthermore, the whole open minded and calm approach to the practice of medicine and the treatment of illness quickly became a cornerstone of my continuing to learn and develop as a doctor and continues to this day. If indeed, learning on the job is inevitable what occurs in any long term career I could have never hoped for a better, more superior teacher to have learned under than my father. His opinion, in staff meetings and in the clinic, is still as valued and powerful today as it has ever been. And I take tremendous pride in even attempting to follow in his very large footsteps.
Dr. Phelps is survived by his wife, Bettie, his sister Dee, his children Kim, Mark, Laurie, Todd and Kelly and their spouses and numerous grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews and cousins. He will be sorely missed by all.
Memorial contributions may be made to the Southern Humboldt Community Hospital Foundation, Attn. Debbie Scaife, 733 Cedar Street, Garberville, CA 95542.
A memorial service is being coordinated for the middle of March and notices will be sent out once the date, time and location have been set.

In recent years I was honored to be Richard Ricklefs’ friend. While I did not know him during his long years of medical practice, and during his remarkable marriage to Elsie Mae Gardner, the consistency of his life continued. Through his gentle reminiscences I became well acquainted with the shape of his life. We don’t often these days use the word exemplary to speak of a person, but it is certainly the word that comes to mind when thinking of Richard.
Richard was a man of courage and quiet persistence. As a lifelong pacifist he served as a conscientious objector during the Second World War. Both he and his wife, Elsie, worked in a psychiatric hospital in Connecticut at that time. Their work and that of other conscientious objectors became fundamental to the subsequent reform of state mental hospitals in our country. After World War II, Richard managed, with his wife’s help, to return to school to study medicine at Hahnemann Medical College in Philadelphia, then doing a rotating internship designed for prospective general practitioners at St. Luke’s Hospital in San Francisco. A few months into his internship Richard became aware that the pediatric training being offered was less than had been promised, and less then he felt he needed to practice in an isolated rural setting. Being a bit older than most of his fellow interns he was willing to approach the administration of the program about these deficiencies and appropriate changes were made.
In 1952 Richard began his practice in the Hoopa Valley.
To speak of Richard it is necessary to speak of the Hoopa Valley and the Hupa People. Richard first went to Hupa in 1934 as a teenager to visit his brother who was teaching there. He fell in love with the Valley and with Elsie Gardner, a Hupa girl a few years his junior. Their long courtship led to their marriage in 1942; a marriage which endured some sixty years until Elsie’s death a few years ago. Their lives were intertwined with those of the Hupa Tribe and the wider community through Richard’s medical practice, Elsie’s work as community activist and educator, and more essentially through deep love and trust built up through years of commitment, dependability and courageous service. Their commitment to one another in itself required courage and independent mindedness, beginning as it did at a time when such a “mixed marriage” was not always welcomed.
Richard’s work as a physician has been well known in Humboldt County since it began 55 years ago. He was a pioneer in the organization of health care, running a prepaid medical system in Hupa in the 1950’s, emphasizing family centered obstetrics and the integration of Native American approaches to health care with the benefits of Western Medicine. His dedication and the quality of the care he gave are legendary in Hupa.
After retiring from full-time medical practice in the late 1980’s Richard remained active as community organizer, peace activist and respected elder in the Hupa and Quaker communities. It is through his Quaker connection that I came to know him well. During the last years of his life he traveled to the coast frequently to attend Humboldt Friends Meeting where he provided inspiration to many. He and Elsie had become Quakers in the 1940’s but during the most active years of their lives it was not easy to attend meeting while living in Hoopa.
My friendship with Richard was based on many common interests but more than anything on a shared philosophy about medical practice. He had great respect for the ideals of the profession and remained active both in the Medical Society and in the organization of medicine in Hoopa into the last years of his life.
Richard was a truly modest man though intelligent enough to know his own worth. To live with simple integrity and in a humane and loving manner is not an easy task in our world. Richard managed to do that and the only tribute he would want is that others try their best to do the same.

by Jerome Lengyel, M.D.
Ken Smith was a long-time friend and colleague and I was his doctor for many years. He was a hearty, decent, robust, independent thinkerand kind man with a maverick streak that suited his origin in Texaswhere he spent his early years. He had harrowing tales of riding on andoff the roads with his father in Texas. The family came to California where his father worked as treasurer for Pacific Lumber Company in the good ol’ days. Ken was educated in California and went to McGill for his medical training. He served in the military during WWII and did a residency in anesthesiology in Washington, DC followed by a preceptorship for one or two years. He then came to California. He had met and married his lovely wife, Peggy, during his McGill years. After coming here, they built a home on Bryant Street and raised seven kids. He was a devoted family man. He established the anesthesiology practice in 1950 and was a mainstay for surgeon, Bill Clague and others. At various times, he was Chief of Staff of General and St. Joseph Hospital. He was the President of the Humboldt-Del Norte County Medical Society as well as the Medical Society’s Delegate to the California Medical Association. After retirement, he spent time in Incline Village at Lake Tahoe and ended up working in anesthesia at the Reno VA Hospital for a number of years. He also served as physician to HSU for five years.
He had a literary bent and was an avid reader. He and Peggy were personal friends of Stephen Leacock, a renowned author. He had tried improving my mind with some really interesting off-the-usual-path books.
His children all grew up to be decent human beings. He also was the grandfather of Jill Bakken, who is an Olympic-level bobsled athlete who competed in the last winter Olympics and indeed won a gold metal in this event. He had reason to be proud of his offspring.
He was wonderfully matched and balanced by his wife, Peggy, who was his helpmate and foil who saw him through the last two years of his decline in a devoted and kind fashion. He departed this life in his own home with his kids and wife in attendance. He was a good man and had a good, if not easy, life.

Dr. Chuck Schwartz, long-time family physician in Fortuna, died quietly at home on July 9, 2007, with loving family members at his bedside. Chuck was born February 3, 1910, the eighth of nine children, to Preston and Katharine Henszey Schwartz, in Germantown, Pennsylvania. When Chuck was six months old, the family moved to Sierra Madre, California, a small town in eastern Los Angeles County. That move provided Chuck Access to the Pacific Ocean, near and around Newport Beach, a happy turn of events for a boy who learned to love body surfing, sailing and the outdoors. Following his high school graduation he entered UCLA in the pre-med program and graduated four years later. He received his medical education at Stanford University School of Medicine, completing studies in 1936. After graduation he entered medical practice in San Francisco with Dr. Leo Eloesser, a noted Stanford professor of surgery and one of Chuck’s medical mentors.
In 1940, Chuck married Evelyn Calvert, the love of his life, to whom he was wonderfully married for sixty-six years until her death, May 14, 2007. Their lives were interrupted by World War II, during which Chuck spent three years overseas with the U.S. Army’s 59th Evacuation Unit, a field surgical hospital, an assignment for which he was selected by Dr. Carleton Mathewson, a Stanford surgeon and another of Chuck’s mentors and a lifelong friend. The unit participated in the North African campaign and the invasions of Sicily, the Italian peninsula and southern France. Chuck was present at the liberation of Paris and then crossed the Rhine into Germany for the final months of the war. He was assigned to a special unit that entered Dachau Concentration Camp in Bavaria shortly after its 67,000 prisoners were liberated at the end of April, 1945.
Following the war, and his release form the army, Chuck wanted to start a medical practice in a small community where he could raise a family and enjoy the outdoors. He found this community in Fortuna, where he and Evelyn moved in December, 1945, with their three year old daughter, Linda. Sons Chuck and John were born in 1946 and 1952.
Dr. Schwartz, as he was known affectionately by his hundreds and hundreds of patients, loved the practice of medicine in Fortuna and its surrounding communities. He was, in turn, loved and respected by his patients. He made house calls all over the larger community, even when, during the winter months, it meant crossing the Eel River in a boat. He delivered many babies both at Scotia Hospital and, later, after its closing, at Redwood Memorial Hospital. His office hired the first nurse practitioner in Humboldt County. During the 1950's, Chuck was joined in practice by Dr. Harold Auerhan, with whom he continued in practice until his retirement in 1984, bringing to an end his 39 years of service to the community.
During his retirement, Chuck had time to pursue a number of his lifelong interests, including hunting, fishing, tending his vegetable garden, traveling with friends and attending sporting events with yearly trips to Arizona for spring baseball practice and to Oregon for basketball and track events. Chuck continued his enthusiasm and interest in sports long after he was no longer able to travel to these events.
Chuck was and outstanding physician, a gentle, kind, generous, caring, compassionate man, who was devoted to his patients and their well-being. He was a careful listener, a trait often cited by his patients. He loved small town medical practice, its intimacy and the strong sense of community and belonging that it gave him. His quiet presence, infectious smile, good humor and enduring positive outlook will be long remembered.
by Jack W. Irvine, M.D.

Joe Walsh died April 22, 2006, at age 90. His life spanned a remarkable period of increasing knowledge and change in medicine.
When Joe returned to Eureka in 1950, the medical world was primitive compared to today. He was not warmly received. Specialization, which had begun before WW II, and had accelerated after the War, had not yet reached many smaller communities. General practitioners were doing the bulk of surgery and some felt threatened by a board certified surgeon (the first north of Santa Rosa) in their midst. The first several years were lean ones. Joe once said , “If it had not been for my brother, Jack , and Buddy Rosenberg, (a pediatrician trained at UCSF and life-long friend), who referred me cases, I would have starved.” It would be years before it became generally accepted that surgery was best done by qualified surgeons. For example, in the late 1950s a general practitioner was doing chest surgery for Humboldt County Hospital patients, and another was freezing stomachs for peptic ulcer disease. The only imaging device was the x-ray; serum electrolytes could only be determined by a difficult, often inaccurate colorimetric technique; the first open heart (by hypothermia) procedure was two years away; the first “heart-lung” open heart operation was 5 years away; fiber-optics were unheard of; computerized tomography was undreamed of; and the structure of DNA was unknown.
Joe was exceedingly well trained, and he was in the vanguard of specialty trained physicians who would move to the north coast in the succeeding decade, profoundly changing the practice of medicine in the region. He brought with him contemporary concepts of pre- and postoperative surgical care, and the management of trauma, fluid and electrolytes. His legendary professors of surgery at Stanford, Leo Eloesser, Carleton Mathewson, Jr., and Roy Cohn, instilled in him the philosophy “that the patient is your absolute responsibility and that you must be completely honest recognizing and admitting complications and poor outcomes.”
General surgeons in those days were trained to do most kinds of surgery, from burr holes to intricate pediatric surgery. He did these, performing burr holes for sub- or epidural hematomas, and several successful repairs of tracheo-esophageal fistulas in newborns.
In the operating room he was adept, cool, and gentle. Having trained at the Lahey Clinic (the thyroid capital of the world) he could do a thyroidectomy before lesser surgeons got through the skin. As his reputation grew, he became much in demand as a consultant, particularly in difficult cases. He was known as a surgeon’s surgeon and was equally respected by his patients.
In the operating room, an 8 o’clock start time meant just that to Joe. A recently arrived surgeon was to assist Joe with an abdomino-perineal resection of the colon and rectum. Figuring that there was no way the procedure could start before 8:30, he arrived to find Joe closing the abdominal part of the procedure.
He was an excellent clinician. Stanford had a tradition of emphasizing the importance of a careful history and a complete physical examination and Joe was good at both. Stanford also instilled in its graduates a healthy skepticism, a characteristic that stuck with Joe all his life.
Joe graduated from Eureka Senior High School as valedictorian, attended Humboldt State for two years, then transferred to UC Berkeley where he received his undergraduate degree in 1938. He went to Stanford Medical School, completed his internship and graduated in 1942. He volunteered in the Army Air Force and in 1943 arrived in England as a squadron flight surgeon with the 445th bombardment group of the Eight Air Force, flying B-24 missions into Germany. He was responsible for the flight readiness of the crews and took care of wounds of men returning from missions. He quickly became aware of frequent severe frostbite of the face of side gunners who had to fly at freezing altitudes with open gun ports and took immediate steps to stop or reduce it. He spent many hours in the air as he experimented and developed a hood that covered all of the face not protected by helmet or goggles. This device, which was made of readily available materials, reduced the incidence of frostbite to a mere fraction of the pre-hood era and became standard equipment. For this contribution he was awarded the Bronze Star in 1945. He completed his service with the rank of Captain and returned to resume his surgical residency on the Stanford Service at San Francisco County Hospital, transferring to The Lahey Clinic in Boston for the last two years of his training.
In 1961 he and Norman Christensen, who had also trained at Stanford, combined their practices. They were joined in 1974 by George Husband who had trained at the University of California, San Francisco and in 1981 by John Van Speybroeck, who had also trained at UCSF.
In addition to his surgical skills his friends and associates remember him with great affection: Pete Krieger, former Administrator of St. Joseph Hospital said, “He was a trusted and important counselor. I could always count on him for honest and frank advice.”
Ted Trichilo, former Director of Pharmacy at St. Joseph remembers him as “a dedicated surgeon, professional in every respect and loved by his patients. He was the embodiment of a real human being.”
Floyd Marchi, retired anesthesiologist, was one of Joe’s favorites. “He always had full control and understanding of the surgical procedure he was doing. He was a true scholar and had a great wit.”
John Van Speybroeck appreciated his wisdom. “His help to me as a young surgeon in the operating room was invaluable. He told great stories of his training; opening up vignettes about some of the greats in surgery such as Leahy and Trendelenberg, names now most young surgeons associate only with clamps and positions. His generation of surgeons was the link between the giants of the early 20th century (for instance. Emil Holman, Halsted’s last resident, was Chairman of the Department of Surgery at Stanford when Joe was a resident) and surgeons of today.”
George Husband learned much about life from Joe. “One of the great blessings in my life was to have a prolonged association with Joe Walsh. His influence on my life was on the same level as my own father’s.”
Jack Irvine remembers him as being cool and calm under pressure. “I never saw him ruffled and his calmness helped keep other people calm.”
Norman Christensen remembers his humor and generosity and love of English; he had an extraordinary knowledge of American and English literature, acquired for the most part through life-long learning. He was a grammar maven, as evidenced by the fact that one of his favorite books was Strunk and Whites’s, The Elements of Style. He was a voluminous reader and remained connected to the end to local, national, and international issues. “When I told him I planned to move to Eureka on August 1st he said, ‘Great. You will be here in time for half-pounder fishing.’ ” Fishing on the Klamath was one of his two favorite outdoor pursuits; the other was golf. Joe built a cabin along side Gordon Hadley and Walter Dolfini’s cabin at Ryerson’s Rock and that is where he spent as much time as possible from September through October with friends from all over California; cooking and pouring drinks for them and telling some outrageously funny stories. Unselfishly, he spent much of his fishing time on the river hauling friends from one side of the river to the other or from one riffle to another.”
His last day on call was August 31, 1981. On that last night the fates did not treat him well. Yet the remarks he made at breakfast the next morning to his wife, Janie, epitomized his life-long love of his profession. During the night he had gotten out of bed and done three cases. “It was great,” he said.

By:      Norman Christensen, M.D.
            George Husband, M.D.
            John Van Speybroeck, M.D

Joe Graham Anthony Sr. M.D.
Eugene Blum M.D.
Bill Clague M.D.
James S. Eley M.D.
Allan Goodman M.D.
Michael J. Hitchko M.D.
Ted Loring M.D.
John Machen M.D.
Floyd Marchi M.D.
Kenneth Eugene Mooslin M.D.
Jerry Phelps M.D.
Richard Ricklefs M.D.
E. Kenneth Smith M.D
Chuck Schwartz M.D.
Joe Walsh M.D.