And Physicians of Southern Alberta

Medical Clinics and Physicians of Southern Alberta Gerald M. McDougall & Fiona C. Harris ~ ~ N RA 983 .A4 105 A424 1991 C.2 Medical Clinics and Physicians of Southern Alberta Gerald M. McDougall & Fiona C. Harris with Jim Middlemiss Leopold Lewis & D.S. Grant © 1991 by Gerald M. McDougall. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, by print, photocopy, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data: McDougall, Gerald M. (Gerald Millward), 1934- Medical clinics and physicians of Southern Alberta Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-83953-162-5 1. Group medical practice--Alberta--History. 2. Clinics--Alberta--History. I. Harris, Fiona C. II. Title. RA983.A4A46 1992 610'.65'09712309 C92-091727-5 Published by: G. M. McDougall 3707 Utah Drive N.W. Calgary, Alberta T2N 4A6 Printed in Canada, by the University of Calgary Printing Services. This book is dedicated to: Donald R. Wilson, MD FRCPC Professor of Medicine, University of Alberta. Edward L. Margetts, MD FRCPC Professor of Psychiatry, University of British Columbia. physicians who as clinicians, teachers, medical historians and friends had a great influence on my life, and my interest in medical education and medical history. GMMcD. FOREWORD I was asked to read the manuscript of this book in the fall of 1989. Having read Teachers of Medicine, wherein one of the present editors coordinated the work of many of the early medical educators in tracing the development of grad uate clinical education in Calgary, I was pleased to examine this new work. After numerous delays, I finally sat down to read the manuscript one evening and did something I have never done before. I didn' t put it down until 3 a.m. the following morning. I was totally absorbed in this masterly coverage of what is in reality a broader coverage of the history of medical practice in the south. Therefore when asked to write this foreword, I had no hesitation in doing so. This publication is the first serious coverage of medical hi story to emerge since Dr. Heber Jamieson's Early Medicine in Alberta. As I read it, much of the early history of medicine in this part of the province which had been dormant in my mind came to life again. I came to know many of the early Calgary physi cians through my father who served four terms as president of the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Alberta - covering a span of twelve years. I had the good fortune to travel south with him on many occasions in the '20s and '30s - even before I entered medical school. r have very clear memories of Dr. Heber Jamieson; Dr. George Johnson, one of the early registrars of the College and briefly a member of the Brett Sanitarium in Banff and the Mackid group in Calgary; Dr. Mackid and Dr. Brett themselves; and two of the early distin guished members of the Calgary Associate Clinic: Dr. George Stanley and the scholarly historian, Dr. Earle Scarlett - to mention but a few .. I am tempted to fall into the trap of prolonged reminiscence, but common sense says "No." I shall mention only a few of the colorful characters that I can recall. It was my privilege to follow in the footsteps of that somewhat unpredictable physician and historian, Dr. Heber Jamieson, in developing a division of endocrinolgy at the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Alberta. I also became his doctor during the latter years of his life. Heber's spirit of adventure never failed him right up the the end of his days. Long after he had passed his 60th birthday, he decided he wanted to learn to fly. He engaged the services of Moss Burbridge, the chief flying instructor of the Edmonton Flying Club who later related many stories to me. Heber proved to be an apt pupil, his only failing being that he tended to level off too high when he came in to land. Moss decided on one final strategy. One pleasant day when they were flying back from Vegreville in one of the early two-seater Moth biplanes, Moss instructed Heber to land at the Cooking Lake field. As they started into their final approach, Moss tapped Heber on the shoulder and through the inadaquate speaking tube, told him firmly that he really had to land the plane this time. To this end, he pulled out his control column and threw it over the side. Heber, in the front seat nod- iii ded, pulled his joy stick, and heaved it over too. I'm told that the look of terror on Moss' face was total! Heber then proceeded to land the plane without inci dent. Apparently he got wind the night before what Moss intended to do and procured an extra control from stores. Word has it that Moss was so mad that he didn ' t speak with Heber again for three months. This book describes Dr. Brett as an amazing man of many talents outside medicine - not all of which I was aware. My recollection of this early pioneer was on a bright sunny Sunday morning when I was sent off to Sunday School. As I dawdled my way along thinking of ways and means to escape this weekly occasion, I encounterd Alberta's Lieutenant Governor at the comer of I 13th Street and Victoria Avenue - immaculately turned out - gray topper, morning coat, pearl gray vest, striped trousers, spats, carrying a cane at a jaunty angle. He stopped and we talked for a few minutes. I told him my father was a doctor too. He said he knew my father. Enquiring if I was going to Sunday School, as I was decked out in my best togs; he said he liked to walk to church and suggested that we might go together. As a small boy, I was petrified at the prospect and man aged to tell him that I had a few messages to do first. I also have a very clear recollection of Dr. George Johnson, the registrar of the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Alberta. He was a ruddy-faced jovial man and a great friend of my father's. On one occasion, when I was with my father in Calgary - on College business, I presume, combined with his lifelong love of sporting dogs, he discovered that his old Buick touring car refused to start. He wanted to go down to High River on dog business, and arranged to bor row Dr. Johnson's Dodge tourer - built like a tank, very reliable and, of course, painted black. All went well on the trip down, but on the return trip the follow ing evening, all hell broke loose. My father, who had had a long tiring day in the field with hi s dogs, asked me to drive. Of course, I jumped at the chance. It was early evening and a big wind was beginning to blow. My father had neglected to tell me about the gear shift sequence - I thought it was the same as the old Buick, but it turned out to be the reverse. I seem to remember it was called an Imperial shift. When I put in gear what I thought was low, it was really high, and with difficulty I managed to get the car started, and then I shifted into what I though was second, but it wasn't at all, it was reverse. I draped myself over the steering wheel, and my father's face hit the windshield. By this time, it was really blowing, and so we stopped and put on the old cel luloid curtains. The roar of the wind practically flapping off the curtains and more dust than I'd ever seen in my life before was indeed intimidating. We chugged along, at times barely moving. In those days, there were no road mark ers, and it was just a gravel trail, so I trusted to luck that I was on the right road north to Calgary. Two hours later, we staggered into Midnapore. My father had decided wisely that we should call it quits for the night, and we put up in the old iv rambling hotel which has long since di sappeared. My father expressed his relief saying, "Son, tomorrow ni ght we'll have a real full -course dinner; soup, roast beef, and apple pie" at the York hotel where we were staying - $1 .50 per per son - early depression years! I enjoyed the account of how Dr. George Stanley failed to get elected to the provincial legislature in 1909, losi ng both the WCTU vote, and the "wets" as well because of erroneous gossip and rumour concerning a cache of liquor in his basement. I had the good fortune to spend a pleasant and memorable afternoon with him and my father in Saskatoon. They were sharing a hotel room at the CMA meeting where they both received Senior Membership. Stories of the early days flew back and forth between them, aided and abetted by respectable amounts of the grape, just enough to keep the conversation flowing almost non stop for three hours. I have many warm recollections of Dr. Earl Scarlett. To relate them here would be overloading this foreword. Suffice it to say that he was unquestionably the leading figure in medical hi story in the province among his many other accomplishments. Could it be that hi s life-long productivity and enthusiasm fo r medical hi story explains Calgary's pre-eminence in thi s field today? The statement is often made at these times that there are no more colorful characters, that they are all gone, and that nothing very exciting is happening on th e medical scene.

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