My Dad, Earle, was the oldest of 8 children and the first black to graduate from West Grove, Pa high school. In high school, he had a job as the clean up and delivery boy at the only pharmacy in town. The owner was impressed with his diligence and intellect and encouraged him to think about going to college. When he graduated as the top student in his class, he was bitten by the desire to go to college and also wanted to go on to be a doctor; partly because his mother had done some practical nursing and medical work intrigued him
With a small token from the pharmacist and with money saved, he enrolled in Lincoln University in Oxford, Pa. the first all black men’s university in America, just down the road from West Grove, allowing him to stay at home and hitch hike or walk to school the first year. Later he was able to get campus housing and food by working in the cafeteria. In the summer he worked to make his tuition as a bell hop in Atlantic City, this is where he met my mother and they later married. He graduated senior class president and was accepted to Howard University Medical School.
With a small token from the pharmacist and with money saved, he enrolled in Lincoln University in Oxford, Pa. the first all black men’s university in America, just down the road from West Grove, allowing him to stay at home and hitch hike or walk to school the first year. Later he was able to get campus housing and food by working in the cafeteria. In the summer he worked to make his tuition as a bell hop in Atlantic City, this is where he met my mother and they later married. He graduated senior class president and was accepted to Howard University Medical School.
At the end of his freshman year, he had to take a leave to earn more money to continue school and Howard had a rule that if you interrupted your studies you had to repeat the year. This was impractical and with the help of my mother’s cousin he was able to transfer to Meharry Medical College in Nashville, TN. He and my mother were then married and later I was born.
In 1937 he graduated and wanted to train as a surgeon. He and 26 of his classmates decided to do their internship at Kansas City General Hospital.
In route, they had to change trains in St. Louis, Mo, where a Red Cap asked them where they were headed. When they said Kansas City, he said why not stay here they just built a new “colored hospital , Homer G. Phillip’s, and they don’t have any doctors their”. ,They checked out the hospital and since the pay 15$ / month plus expenses was the same as Kansas City, they all decided to stay in St. Louis.and became the first class of interns at Homer G. in July 1937.
The story behind Homer G is intriguing and involves it being built due to racism in St. Louis. Homer G. Phillips was a black attorney who had led the fight to get the hospital built and was later murdered for unrelated reasons.
The stories my Dad and his best friend Herbert Erwin ( Uncle Red ) would tell could fill several volumes. Dad wanted to complete a surgery residency but after 2 years he needed to support his family and 15$/mo wasn’t going to do it. My mother and I were living in Atlantic City, she teaching and I enrolled in grade school.
My Dad had always intended to move back to the East to practice medicine, but with his dream of being a surgeon dashed he looked around for another place to practice. It so happened that a doctor in Evansville, IN had put up a notice at the hospital that he needed someone to take over his practice while he sought some advanced training. So, my Dad contacted him and they agreed on a plan.
My Dad had never driven a car and he needed to buy one. At the end of his two years he had a bonus of 500 dollars coming when he finished that year. Uncle Red took him to a car dealer where he purchased a Model A Ford for 250 dollars and then took him to Forrest Park to teach him to drive. After a couple of lessons, Red pronounced that Dad was ready to go. Dad asked “How do I get to Evansville”. Red replied “take US 40 east to Terre Haute, IN and there make a right turn on to US 41, go south until you reach the Ohio River and you are there”. That is how my Dad got to Evansville and where later a new chapter in my life began.
In route, they had to change trains in St. Louis, Mo, where a Red Cap asked them where they were headed. When they said Kansas City, he said why not stay here they just built a new “colored hospital , Homer G. Phillip’s, and they don’t have any doctors their”. ,They checked out the hospital and since the pay 15$ / month plus expenses was the same as Kansas City, they all decided to stay in St. Louis.and became the first class of interns at Homer G. in July 1937.
The story behind Homer G is intriguing and involves it being built due to racism in St. Louis. Homer G. Phillips was a black attorney who had led the fight to get the hospital built and was later murdered for unrelated reasons.
The stories my Dad and his best friend Herbert Erwin ( Uncle Red ) would tell could fill several volumes. Dad wanted to complete a surgery residency but after 2 years he needed to support his family and 15$/mo wasn’t going to do it. My mother and I were living in Atlantic City, she teaching and I enrolled in grade school.
My Dad had always intended to move back to the East to practice medicine, but with his dream of being a surgeon dashed he looked around for another place to practice. It so happened that a doctor in Evansville, IN had put up a notice at the hospital that he needed someone to take over his practice while he sought some advanced training. So, my Dad contacted him and they agreed on a plan.
My Dad had never driven a car and he needed to buy one. At the end of his two years he had a bonus of 500 dollars coming when he finished that year. Uncle Red took him to a car dealer where he purchased a Model A Ford for 250 dollars and then took him to Forrest Park to teach him to drive. After a couple of lessons, Red pronounced that Dad was ready to go. Dad asked “How do I get to Evansville”. Red replied “take US 40 east to Terre Haute, IN and there make a right turn on to US 41, go south until you reach the Ohio River and you are there”. That is how my Dad got to Evansville and where later a new chapter in my life began.
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