The summer of 1955, I spent waiting to go back to school was really one of a "ce la vive" attitude, I had cheated death for a minute and had a don’t give a damn attitude. I couldn’t work so I just hung around the house eating some of my mother good cooking. I borrowed $600 dollars from my Dad and bought a 1949 Pontiac, from the proverbial little old lady, so I could have wheels for getting around IU campus because the dorms were a distance from the medical science building where classes were held. This need to drive would lead to an incident in pathology that provoked the Dept Chairman. I mentioned in an earlier chapter that there were eccentric characters teaching us. Dr S wanted any one who came late to his lecture to put on one of the horrible ties he had hung on a rack in the back of the room as some sort of identification and punishment. Now here we are all adults and I thought this rather stupid. One morning I couldn’t find a parking space and got to class late, he said “ Robinson. I see you’re late put on a tie”. Later after the formal lecture there was a 2hr lab and we were studying something I couldn’t identify under the microscope. I raised my hand to get some help and Dr S came to my station. I asked him what it was and he said if I came to class on time I would know. I said what if I didn’t. He said “I’ll take 1 point off your final grade for every tardy”. I said “what if I don’t come to class at all”. And he replied “ you’ll flunk my course”.
I went immediately to my advisor who was the Prof and Chair of Biochemistry whose class I excelled in. I told him the situation also that I had to drive because of my recent illness. He phoned Dr S right in my presence and informed him that if he flunked me he would flunk one of his prize path students tit for tat. From then on Dr S never spoke to me, but in my senior year a situation occurred that he was effusive in his praise of me, amazing how fate changes things.
The classes in the second year were pretty straight forward and we were introduced to some clinical situations in physical diagnosis. Here, I encountered several instructors that were visiting clinical professors, all white, that were fair and appeared less racist. It seemed to me that the full time faculty especially in the surgical specialties were the ones that exhibited prejudice. IU had no Blacks at any position in the medical school except janitors and housekeepers all of whom were so proud of us that we were to them like a relative. Occasionally an old (?exam ) turned up in our hands from one of them, having been found by the way, while cleaning an office.
One incident that I am reminded of was when a Black class mate was presenting the history of a patient for grand rounds and he had a very slow drawl. The case was one that was obviously acute gall bladder disease and he was making the point that the patient had ingested a fatty meal…chili. A characteristic trigger for an attack.
The Dept Chairmen interrupted him and said “Kingfish, get to the point” (referencing a character in Amos and Andy) a Black radio show. I stood up and walked out of the room hoping my colleague would do likewise, but he dropped his head and said yes sir! I wanted to kick his ass the next time I saw him, but from then on I knew I would have to fight any battle alone. I wanted to finish school but with what I had been through I wasn’t about to sell my soul for a MD degree. And later in my career as a chief resident, I had to put my principals on the line and I opted to walk rather than be disrespected as a man.
But there are some fair and honest souls like Dr Test who was a physical diagnoses instructor, who was independently wealthy and truly a gentlemen. He addressed all the Black patients as Miss, Mrs or Mr not “Auntie or Mary or Willie. He invited me along with my white classmates to his home for “BS” sessions along with dinner and drinks on several weekends. Those types of encounters with others professors were to say the least were nil and my only contact with a Black physician came later in my 3rd year rotation on OB/GYN that was to be a pivotal point in my life.
One of the lighter things that that happened in the 2nd year was living in the Quonset hut dorm with my fellow classmates. We were a mixture of different grades levels and there was one dental student, my roommate Suggs. One guy studied with such intensity, if any one made any noise he wanted to fight. The rest of us were pretty loose. We bought an old refrigerator for $25 and stocked it full with beer at $4 a case which we sold on the honor system for 50 cents that was dropped in an old coffee can. The proceeds were used for cigarettes, cold cuts and stuff for the dorm mates and also gas for me since I was the only one with a car and everyone shared it, especially Boone who likes to light his pipe and go for long late night drives to clear the cobwebs after studying. How little it took then to find pleasure. Our social interaction was nil with the white class mates but we met some city girls to date on occasion which ended in marriage for some of us later.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention this. One of the students, Al Holliday, was from Gary and his dad was the first Black fire chief in Indiana. Right across from the Medical Center was Engine House 1 that was all Black. Because of the brotherhood that firemen have they let Holliday come over bringing some of us to eat with them and play pool and ping pong in their firehouse. Their hospitality was a needed relief to the hostility we faced on our side of the street and I will be forever thankful to them.
