Simpler Times

ANT BITES, SAND SPURS, AND INTEGRITY

By Charles D. Williams, M.D., FACR, FAAP (“Pedro”) I was sitting around my office in between BE’s longing for simpler times when my mind wandered back to earlier years when all I had to worry about was ant bites and sand spurs. I remembered Grandma Williams in her last years. She was dying of cancer when she said to me, “Pedro, (they called me Pedro because I was little when I was small) they tell me I have a big heart but it could be worse I could have a big head.” She raised seven kids in Coolidge, Georgia, after Grandpa died of swine flu. Depression hit. There were three boys, Dillard, Millard, and Willard. Boll-weevils got the cotton and the banks got the land. They all became sharecroppers. When you visited the aunts and uncles they would pat you on the head and say, “Pedro, get your education. It’s something they can’t take away from you.” They had never heard of due process, economic credentialing and bylaws. Dad couldn’t write but he did learn to sign his name on the checks. The local merchants would fill in the rest. Good thing he lived in Moultrie. It seemed that trust and honesty cannot be legislated and cannot be instilled by policy statements. My favorite was Aunt Pearlie and Uncle Willie. Uncle Willie was henpecked but Aunt Pearlie wouldn’t let him join the hen-pecked club. I would go over there to pick cotton because they would pay me. Dad wouldn’t pay me as long as belts lasted. I would get out in the fields early with dew on the ground and throw in a few rocks into the cotton sacks. One day it was hot, and the rocks were hurting my knees and I thought, “When I get grown I want to get one of those inside jobs with x-ray view boxes.” I still like to mess around in the dirt and dig holes as long as they are not too deep and as long as it is not for survival. One day me, Pearlie and Willie went over to Aunt Ella and Uncle Claude’s to pick butter beans. Aunt Ella was Mama’s half-sister and Uncle Claude was Dad’s first cousin. This kind of arrangement is hard to avoid if you stay in Moultrie too long. At the end of the day Ella and Claude said, “It’s late and we have this big room over here where Pearlie and Willie can sleep. Pedro can sleep with Dump,”—that’s their boy. We got ready for bed and Dump put on a long nightgown that came to his knees. I didn’t have my pajamas with me but it didn’t matter ‘cause I didn’t have any pajamas to take with me. Dump knelt down along side of the bed and I thought he was saying his prayers. I knelt down on the other side of the bed. Dump looked over at me and said, “Pedro, Mama’s gonna beat you in the morning. The pot’s on this side of the bed.” Later, I thought if I study hard, do good, become competent, and get a good contract I could buy two pots—one for each side of the bed. Just ‘bout then Dr. Louis St. Petery said, “Dr. Williams, it’s time to go to the Concerned Physicians meeting.” I quickly came back to reality, completed my last BE and went off to another meeting. As I was going out the door the thought struck me—was I striving for the security that Dad and my kin folks never had? Is security gone in today’s medical climate, even with long hours of training and caring? Maybe while we are negotiating due process, re-doing bylaws, fearing economic credentialing, etc., maybe, just maybe, we can retain the other country folk qualities of respect for truth and integrity, desire for good, striving for excellence, willingness to labor hard for others, and respect for the God-given dignity of all people—unless of course they’re excluded by the government.

Reprinted with author permission from Simpler Times.

Dr. Williams’ sequel book, More Simpler Times, can be purchased from the Capital Medical Society. All proceeds from the book are donated to the Capital Medical Society Foundation’s We Care Network program. The total sales from his books have raised over $40,000 for the CMS Foundation’s We Care Network.