Remembering Dr. Dan Kessler

My Dad
written by: Anna Mary Kessler Gawthrop

Your article in last week’s paper took me right back to my childhood. I could just see Mother’s jars on the palings, then I took a look into her cellar and wondered where she had all the empties stored. When they were full, her shelves were always bulging. My mother loved to can and was famous for her preserves and apple butter. Our smoke house was always hung full of huge sugar cured hams and every fall a large hind quarter of beef was added.
My father was a country Doctor and we lived in a small town not too distant from Richwood. Getting back to those jars on the fence – we didn’t have any ravenous eaters in our family but we rarely ever sat at the table alone. Dad’s office was in the corner of our big yard. Mother usually had an errand in that area before she started a meal, for if she didn’t count heads early, she was liable to end up with a shortage of food. In those days, my folks wouldn’t think of sending someone who lived far out in the country, back home hungry ¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬–¬¬¬¬¬ so we always had to be prepared.
My father was one of the most civic minded persons I have ever known. He always was the first in getting new things for our town. Many folks thought Dr. D.P. too eager in talking up good roads and a High School but Dad was never discouraged. When he believed in a thing, he worked ‘till he saw it through. Cars were coming into use and what was the good of a car if there were no roads to drive it on. Our town, through Dad’s efforts, had the first High School in the central part of the state.
Now, that brings me back to the glass jars again. As soon as our High School opened, my father became interested in the young people who lived too far out in the country and didn’t have the finances to board in town. He invited several young folks H.S. age to live with us and go to school. Each had to help in any way they could with house or barn work. Dad did his practice on horseback and there were always two or three riding horses to curry and feed and Jersey cows to milk. Our house was fairly large and by setting up extra beds, we could accommodate several guests. Poor Mother, I wonder yet how she stood so many around, for of course it tripled her work. Now, that’s where her bulging cellar and smoke house came in handy. We had a large table but all three and four leaves were in use every meal. Our table looked like the big tables one sees in the log camps today. Talking at the table was encouraged, for it was in those conversations that our grammatical errors were corrected. Dad was a stickler for good English and not many left our home in the spring saying “have saw,” “I seen” or using double negatives. He was a great reader and committed to memory many beautiful poems, Bible verses and Shakespeare. I have never heard anyone who could make a Bible story so interesting. He all but acted out every part. We all attended Sunday School every Sunday in the summer. I was sent (horse back), two miles, to bring children in to S.S., while some other members of the family went to get others. My father was Sunday School Superintendent.
Dad loved Shakespeare works and could recite several whole plays. When we were small, Dad read aloud so often. Many nights I’ve gone to sleep hearing him read Julius Caesar or Romeo & Juliet aloud to Mother.
A Doctor’s life in those days was very different than today. One never got out of a sick bed to go to see the doctor for treatment. If there was no phone in the patient’s house, he got to the nearest phone and called the Doctor to come. My Dad took his medical oath too seriously. Many times he went when he was feeling worst than the patient. In those days there was much typhoid, and my father was a whiz with that dreaded disease. Many times a whole family would come down at one time. I remember when I was around sixteen years old, Dad asked me to go into a home to nurse the family. They lived in sight of our house and when I wanted a drink of water, I would hang a white cloth out. Mother kept an eye on the house and it wouldn’t be long ‘till she sent a younger brother or sister with the water. There was no shade to shelter their house from the hot sun. Dad took some men to a nearby woods and cut trees to lean against the house for shade. Every day he would have men take water from their old typhoid infested well and use the water to cool the low roof. That way he got the water purified by the time they were well again. All five pulled through. Dad’s practice reached for miles in every direction. Sometimes he left home early in the morning to cover all the calls. There were two women in his entourage that thought they were extra clever. Every Thursday they came into town on the eleven o’clock train to do their shopping at the company store. Their husbands worked for a job run by the company. Both women were in the pink of health but they never missed a week coming to the Dr’s office for pills. They always managed to be there around meal time. Of course, our well water was the best thing they ever tasted, so they would come up to the house for a good cold drink. They would seat themselves to talk until Mother would announce dinner. Well, that was an every week occurrence, until one day my father came home from down in their vicinity hopping mad. He was riding past their homes on horseback and before the woman saw him, she called her family, a little distance away – that dinner was ready. Dad said he never smelled boiled cabbage and fried potatoes that smelled so good – but she didn’t invite him in. Well, by the time he rode six miles home he was famished. We always knew when Dad was boiling mad. He never swore an oath in his life, but he could say “Consarnit” so strong that we thought it was the worst swearing. We all loved and respected our Dad like the king he was, and when we heard how that woman had treated him, I decided to get revenge. The next day I had a plan in mind. I told Mother, since we ate breakfast so early, around seven, that we would have a much longer afternoon if we ate at 11:00 instead of twelve. Mother agreed, and we were pretty well established in the new dinner hour before Thursday rolled around. I was very excited on Thursday and made several trips through the hall to see if I could see the women approaching. Luckily, as usual, they stopped at the company store to do their shopping before coming to the office to relate their miseries. I don’t think dishes were ever put away faster, so by 11:45 when they arrived, we were sitting out on the porch swing taking it easy. They, of course, thought we were waiting for Dad to finish with his patients in the office. They were very talkative for awhile, then one just had to have a drink to get back in the kitchen area to see what was for dinner. Needless to say they went back to the store and ate a cheese sandwich. Mother liked the early lunch. It gave her along afternoon and until she passed away, the lunch hour was eleven o’clock and supper at 5:00.
My father was the Dr. in Cowen for 27 years before he moved to Weston, and he was there twenty-seven years practicing medicine until a month before his death. He accepted no excuses for our missing Sunday School, and he was every broad minded about us playing on Sunday. He was a member of the Board of Education in Lewis Co. for years. He taught a class of around sixty ladies for many years, in the Baptist Church. Dad had a pulp wood contract that was really our living in the first town, for he never sent out a statement. The pulpwood contract required hours of work at the typewriter. I can hear the click of that typewriter yet. He was up at 6:00 a.m. each morning, if he hadn’t been out all night, to get his correspondence caught up.
Dad was so wonderful with children and anything a child did never irritated him. He has had to type many a page over because one of my little ones would add their signature or marks when I would be visiting there. I remember one time one of my babies put a cake of laundry soap in the commode and we had to call a plumber. Daddy wasn’t a bit cross about it. He said the plumber had to make a living too. My father wasn’t any good at mechanics. When his car had a rattle he took it to the garage. He even found changing a tire very difficult. All the grand children adored him. He taught many of them to drive a car and was always sure they were capable.
Dad had many interesting hobbies. His favorite was a boys camp on Gauley River. He felt sorry for the city boys that had no where to play – only hot city streets – so he built this camp. When he opened it in June each year, the cabins were bulging. He had several good milking Jersey cows and twenty six head of ponies for the boys to ride. It was quite an expensive thing each year and he would always go in the red with it. He always felt he was repaid, until the coal mines opened nearby and then he had to discontinue. He let the small grand children each pick a pony for their very own.
Daddy loved walking. He always felt that walking kept him physically fit so he never used his car to go to the post office. He walked very fast and would usually pass several people on the streets on his way. He was always so considerate of Mother. When he went somewhere in the car, he would always tell her where he was going and how long it would take him. I’ve never seen anyone time themselves as he did. If some unforeseen thing came up to delay him, he always called Mother so she wouldn’t be uneasy or keep office patients waiting too long.
It’s so hard to bring this to an end for so many things come to my mind – but I’ll end it by saying, I wish I could have one of Dad’s good steaks. When we had steak and Dad could find the time to cook them outside, he loved it. He had no interest in the kitchen – outside of the meats, but he loved to watch the bacon and ham and take it off the fire at just the right time.
My Dad was a wonderful Guy!