{"id":26901,"date":"2025-06-30T05:02:00","date_gmt":"2025-06-30T05:02:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/?p=26901"},"modified":"2025-10-31T23:14:47","modified_gmt":"2025-10-31T23:14:47","slug":"multiply-my-hands_chapter-two_draft","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/magazine\/2025\/06\/30\/multiply-my-hands_chapter-two_draft\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter Two: A Calling"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"row row-collapse row-full-width\"  id=\"row-2080542157\">\n\n\n\t<div id=\"col-1305066956\" class=\"col small-12 large-12\"  >\n\t\t\t\t<div class=\"col-inner\"  >\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n\n\t<div class=\"box has-hover   has-hover box-text-bottom\" >\n\n\t\t<div class=\"box-image\" >\n\t\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"\" >\n\t\t\t\t<img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1794\" height=\"1004\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM.png\" class=\"attachment- size-\" alt=\"\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM.png 1794w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM-300x168.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM-1024x573.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM-768x430.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Screenshot-2025-06-18-at-4.15.44-PM-1536x860.png 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1794px) 100vw, 1794px\" \/>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\n\t\t<div class=\"box-text text-center\" >\n\t\t\t<div class=\"box-text-inner\">\n\t\t\t\t\n\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 170%;color: #faf7f7\">Multipy My Hands:<\/span><\/h2>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 170%;color: #faf7f7\">The Life of Dr. Richard Smith<\/span><\/h2>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 75%;color: #faf7f7\" data-text-color=\"primary\">____________________<\/span><\/h1>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center\">\u00a0<\/h2>\n<h3 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 170%;color: #faf7f7\">Chapter Two: A Calling<\/span><\/h3>\n<h3 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 110%;color: #faf7f7\">Missionary Work, University Life and the Pull of Healthcare<\/span><\/h3>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 75%;color: #faf7f7\" data-text-color=\"primary\">_________________<\/span><\/h1>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 80%;color: #faf7f7\">Written by Erik Steen with Jim Wehmeyer<\/span><\/h2>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 80%;color: #faf7f7\">Edited by Melanee Nelson<\/span><\/h2>\n<h3 style=\"text-align: center\"><span style=\"font-size: 80%;color: #faf7f7\">MEDEX Northwest Communications<\/span><\/h3>\n\n\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\n\t\n\n\n<style>\n#row-2080542157 > .col > .col-inner {\n  background-color: rgb(0, 66, 89);\n}\n<\/style>\n<\/div>\n\n\t<section class=\"section\" id=\"section_540456263\">\n\t\t<div class=\"section-bg fill\" >\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\n\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n\t\t\n\n\t\t<div class=\"section-content relative\">\n\t\t\t\n\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">It was a summer that would change everything. Richard stepped off the DC-3 and into a haze of heat and uncertainty. The air clung to him, thick and humid, carrying the sharp scent of damp earth. Jagged mountains stretched toward a sky heavy with tropical clouds. As he stood under a sun that seemed close enough to touch, a flicker of unease twisted in his stomach. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">What exactly had he gotten himself into?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335551550&quot;:1,&quot;335551620&quot;:1,&quot;335559739&quot;:0,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27173\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-300x167.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"500\" height=\"278\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-300x167.jpg 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-1024x570.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-768x427.jpg 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-1536x855.jpg 1536w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Cuba-map-2048x1140.jpg 2048w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 500px) 100vw, 500px\" \/><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-769833786\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-769833786 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h1><strong>Down South<\/strong><\/h1>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The trip had begun in Connecticut, where Richard, filled with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, boarded a train bound for Miami. \u00a0He had grown up in a world of <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">cultural<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> contrasts: part Hispanic, part Cherokee, part Irish, raised partly by a Jewish family, and living in an Italian neighborhood. These experiences had taught him adaptability but hadn\u2019t shielded him from the harsh realities of racism. In West Virginia, where he had lived with his Aunt Cora and her family for a time, he learned to navigate the unspoken rules of segregation<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u2014<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">: <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">which doors to use, which seats to take, and most importantly, how to avoid unnecessary trouble. Those lessons came to mind as he reached Miami. He avoided the \u201cWhite\u201d waiting room and chose to stand in the middle of the station, unwilling to enter the \u201cColored\u201c waiting room, which smelled like it hadn\u2019t been cleaned in a year.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_27428\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-27428\" style=\"width: 212px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-27428 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/miami-herald-colored-waiting-room-miami-railroad-station-undated-212x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"212\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/miami-herald-colored-waiting-room-miami-railroad-station-undated-212x300.jpg 212w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/miami-herald-colored-waiting-room-miami-railroad-station-undated-723x1024.jpg 723w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/miami-herald-colored-waiting-room-miami-railroad-station-undated-768x1087.jpg 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/miami-herald-colored-waiting-room-miami-railroad-station-undated.jpg 900w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 212px) 100vw, 212px\" \/><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-27428\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">A period photograph taken in the Miami bus station.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Reverend John and Hazel Stroud, Methodist missionaries and<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">deeply committed to sharing the Christian message and serving the people of Cuba, arrived at<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> the<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Miami train station just in time to see two policemen grab Richard. Without warning, the officers scooped him up along with his bag, half-dragging and half-carrying him toward the station exit. \u201cIf you don\u2019t wanna stay in your place, boy, then we\u2019ll show you where you belong<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">1<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">,\u201d one sneered as he shoved him to the pavement. Richard landed hard at the Strouds\u2019 feet, dazed and humiliated. Hazel helped him up, her face a mix of outrage and sorrow. The humiliation burned in Richard\u2019s chest, leaving him silent as he brushed the dirt from his clothes, anger simmering beneath the surface.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">For the past six years, the Strouds had made Mayar\u00ed their home, building a small clinic in the heart of the community. Their work extended beyond the physical walls of the clinic. John, tall and soft-spoken, often led services and offered spiritual guidance to those who sought it, while Hazel, sharp-eyed and tireless, addressed the community\u2019s practical needs, caring for patients at the clinic, teaching sanitation practices<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">,<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> and advocating for better living conditions. Their faith was the foundation of everything they did, a guiding force that shaped their mission in this remote and challenging environment.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As they drove to Coral Gables for the work camp orientation, Hazel stole glances at Richard in the rearview mirror. She had seen that look before\u2014the tight-lipped anger of someone who had just endured humiliation and didn\u2019t yet know how to process it. John, seated beside her, broke the silence with his usual calm. \u201cWe\u2019ve got a lot of work to do in Mayar\u00ed,\u201d he said, glancing back at Richard. \u201cI think you\u2019ll find it worthwhile.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The silence in the car hung heavy, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement. Richard sat in the back seat, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, staring out the window at the unfamiliar streets. The Strouds\u2019 calm demeanor only seemed to amplify the chaos still echoing in his mind from the station. The officer\u2019s words replayed like a bad record, each repetition stirring a mix of shame and anger. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Why didn\u2019t I say something? Do something? But what could I have done against a badge and a gun?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">From the front seat, Hazel turned slightly, her voice interrupting his thoughts. \u201cYou alright back there, Richard?\u201d Her tone was gentle, but the steady look she gave him in the rearview mirror made it clear she expected an honest answer.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cYeah,\u201d he replied quietly, \u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d But the strain in his voice gave him away. Hazel\u2019s gaze lingered for a moment before she looked away.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cWe\u2019ve seen it before,\u201d John said softly, eyes on the road. His hands gripped the wheel, steady but firm, as though the memory burdened him, too. \u00a0\u201cIt doesn\u2019t make it right. But you\u2019re not alone in this.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard swallowed hard, the knot in his chest tightening. He shifted in his seat, unsure how to respond. A part of him wanted to brush off their sympathy\u2014it felt too much like pity\u2014but another part was desperate to believe them.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cDo you know why we\u2019re here, Richard?\u201d John asked, glancing at him in the mirror. The question caught him off guard.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cTo&#8230;help?\u201d Richard said, unsure if it was the right answer.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cTo serve,\u201d John corrected gently. \u201cAnd not just with our hands, but with our hearts. People out there, the ones we\u2019ll meet in Cuba\u2014they\u2019re struggling, just like you are right now. They need someone to walk alongside them, to remind them they\u2019re not forgotten. That\u2019s why we\u2019re here.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard didn\u2019t respond, unsure what to say. The rhythm of the tires and the low murmur of the engine filled the quiet. Outside, the streets of Coral Gables gave way to shaded neighborhoods, the trees arching over the road like a canopy.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cYou\u2019ll see soon enough,\u201d Hazel added, her voice soft now. \u201cThis work, it changes you. It\u2019s not just about what you give; it\u2019s about what you learn. What you let God teach you.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard stared out the window, their words swirling in his head. The burden of the moment began to shift, not lifting entirely, but finding a new balance. Maybe they were right. Maybe this summer will be more than just an adventure. Maybe it would mean something.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1634397243\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1634397243 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h1>A Shared Purpose<\/h1>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">When they arrived at the small Methodist church hall in Coral Gables, Richard paused before entering. Through the open door, he could hear Southern drawls weaving through the air as seven white students greeted each other with easy familiarity. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Will they see the dirt that\u2019s still on my clothes?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he wondered. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Or <\/span><\/i><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">the humiliation still burning in my chest?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_27432\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-27432\" style=\"width: 384px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-27432\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/first-united-methodist-church-coral-gables-chapel-230x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"384\" height=\"500\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/first-united-methodist-church-coral-gables-chapel-230x300.jpg 230w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/07\/first-united-methodist-church-coral-gables-chapel.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 384px) 100vw, 384px\" \/><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-27432\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">The First United Methodist Church in Coral Gables, Florida, where Richard trained with John and Hazel Stroud for his volunteer stint in Cuba.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside quietly and found a spot along the wall, conscious of being the only Black face in a sea of white ones, their differences pressing down on his shoulders.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">It amazed me,<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d he would later recall with a hint of irony, \u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">that it took them all summer long to finally get used to eating, sleeping, playing, praying, and working with an Episcopalian.<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The Strouds called the meeting to order, their voices cutting through his thoughts as they outlined their upcoming work in Oriente Province. The poverty they would encounter, the clinic duties, the house construction<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u2014<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> &#8211; <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">these practical matters slowly drew everyone\u2019s focus away from the awkward dynamics in the room.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">During breaks between sessions, Richard noticed their glances shifting from wary to curious. His background fascinated them. His Blackness, his mixed heritage, and his Episcopalian faith each added a new layer to what seemed to them an increasingly complex puzzle. As the afternoon wore on, tentative conversations began to emerge, bridging the invisible barriers that had seemed so solid just hours before.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">It amazed me,<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d he would later recall with a hint of irony, \u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">that it took them all summer long to finally get used to eating, sleeping, playing, praying, and working with an Episcopalian.<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As the days passed, initial awkwardness gave way to genuine friendship. Their shared purpose of<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">serving desperately poor communities in Cuba\u2019s mountains began to matter more than their differences.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The Methodist Church\u2019s offer of free airfare, lodging, and a small scholarship had been too good to pass up. For Richard, it was a practical solution\u2014money he needed to support himself while pursuing his dream of becoming a musician. It felt like an adventure, a chance to see the world while earning something tangible. But as the jeep jostled over dirt roads that turned to muck with every passing rainstorm, his excitement began to fade. By the time they arrived in Mayar\u00ed, his shirt clung uncomfortably to his back, and his shoes were caked in mud. The practicality of the decision now felt far away, replaced by a gnawing sense of uncertainty.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-419784057\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-419784057 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h1>The Stark Reality of Life in Mayari<\/h1>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27323 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_kids-in-homeshuts_3-combined-images.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1484\" height=\"344\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_kids-in-homeshuts_3-combined-images.png 1484w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_kids-in-homeshuts_3-combined-images-300x70.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_kids-in-homeshuts_3-combined-images-1024x237.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_kids-in-homeshuts_3-combined-images-768x178.png 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1484px) 100vw, 1484px\" \/><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The reality of life in Mayar\u00ed hit Richard immediately. The sanitation was unbelievably bad, with the city\u2019s drainage emptying directly into the Mayar\u00ed River. It was the same water many residents drank. In this environment, disease flourished like the tropical vegetation surrounding them.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Each morning, Richard and fellow volunteer Alan Whanger worked alongside Hazel Stroud in the clinic. Her reputation preceded her. In the six years since the clinic\u2019s opening, her diplomatic handling of local officials and tireless dedication had helped reduce child mortality in Mayar\u00ed from 26 percent to 4 percent. The Strouds had developed a system that involved treating what they could during the week and referring the most serious cases to a local doctor who visited for half a day each Wednesday.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard and Alan helped with whatever was needed. They carried water, cleaned instruments, organized supplies, and offered comfort to patients who waited in long, humid lines for their turn. Working under Hazel\u2019s direction, they began to see how much of the work depended on steadiness, attention, and the willingness to return each day, even when exhaustion set in, and the line kept growing.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">By midmorning, the clinic overflowed with children weakened by malnutrition and illnesses tied to the same river that both nourished and poisoned their lives. The air inside was thick with the sour smell of unwashed bodies. Babies wailed as mothers rocked them, their cries blending with soft, urgent prayers. At the center of it all was Myrna, a young nurse\u2019s aide with little formal medical training but extraordinary skill. Her hands moved quickly, wrapping bandages, measuring doses, and checking for signs of dehydration.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>An idea began to take root. What if we could multiply these hands?<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cBoil the water,\u201d she told a mother, her tone firm but kind. \u201cEvery time. No exceptions.\u201d The woman nodded, clutching her child tighter. Myrna wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and moved to the next patient with practiced ease. Richard marveled at her quiet efficiency. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">How does she do it?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he wondered. She moved from patient to patient with a focus that felt beyond him. He found himself watching more than helping, unsure of what he could actually contribute.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The clinic buzzed with urgency. The lines stretched longer than usual, the air thick with the metallic tang of sweat and heat. A single fan whirred unevenly, barely cutting through the stillness. Water trickled steadily into basins, punctuated by the occasional rise of a mother\u2019s voice in rapid Spanish. Her words, heavy with desperation, sliced through the room like a blade.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27360 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1608\" height=\"1028\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics.png 1608w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics-300x192.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics-1024x655.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics-768x491.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari-Churchwell-Clinic_gate_patients_assistants_docs_four-combined-pics-1536x982.png 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1608px) 100vw, 1608px\" \/><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">A young woman stepped forward, her baby limp in her arms. Richard\u2019s eyes went first to the child\u2019s face. Dry lips. Hollowed cheeks. Barely responsive. He had seen enough in the past week to know what that meant. Dehydration. Maybe worse. Myrna was already reaching for a basin, her voice calm, her touch efficient. Richard hovered nearby, uncertain whether to stay or make room. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">What if she hands the child to me? What would I do?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">But it was the next child who would stay with him forever. A boy, maybe eleven months old, slid from his mother\u2019s grasp and dropped to the floor with surprising speed. He moved across the warped wooden planks on all fours, his thin shirt tugging up as he scooted forward. Then Richard saw it: Something pale trailing behind him. At first it looked like a strip of cloth, something he had dragged from his mother\u2019s bag. But it kept going. Long. Ribbon-like. Glinting faintly in the clinic\u2019s dim light. Almost seven feet of it.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">That is coming from him,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Richard realized, his breath catching. He could not move. Could not speak. The floor tilted slightly under his feet.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Then, as if the world were not already strange enough, another shape slipped free. A thick worm, round and pale, landed near Richard\u2019s boot and curled in on itself.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">He took a step back, instinct overriding reason. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">What is this? What am I looking at?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> His stomach turned, but he forced himself to keep still. Myrna was already there, wiping the boy down, speaking softly to the mother. No panic. Just motion. Practiced and sure.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard gripped the edge of a nearby table, steadying himself. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Do not faint. Do not be useless. Just stay on your feet.<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> But the image stayed with him. The boy. The ribbon. The worm. It etched itself into his mind before he could look away. Myrna gave the boy what medicines she could. But something in her eyes caught Richard\u2019s attention. A flicker of doubt. The kind that did not show in her hands but told him everything. This might not be enough.<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Weeks later, when the mother returned with her older daughter suffering from measles complications, Richard saw her head drop at the mention of her son. All he could hear were her tears.\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">At night, lying on his cot in the stifling heat, Richard could not shake the images. The boy. The ribbon. The worm. The look in the mother\u2019s eyes when she returned alone. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">So much of this is preventable<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, he thought, staring into the darkness. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">But how?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> One doctor and one nurse can only do so much. He pictured Myrna back at the clinic, her hands moving with quiet confidence, managing cases that would rattle trained physicians. Three months of training? Maybe six? And she was saving lives.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">An idea began to take root. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">What if we could multiply these hands? Train more people like Myrna?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27385\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-300x168.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"700\" height=\"393\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-300x168.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-1024x574.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-768x431.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-1536x862.png 1536w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Mayari_women-outside-Chuchwell-Dispensary-aides-1-2048x1149.png 2048w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 700px) 100vw, 700px\" \/><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The question stayed with him in the days that followed, even as the team left the clinic behind and made their way into the mountains. The sun beat <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">down <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">mercilessly as Richard and the other volunteers made their way up the mountain road to Guayabo. Twenty-two miles from Mayar\u00ed, their destination felt like another world entirely. The jeep groaned beneath them, its tires spinning in red mud as they forded yet another stream. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Sixty miles from Guantanamo Bay<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, Richard thought, wiping sweat from his eyes, <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">but it might as well be on another planet<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">His hands, soft from years at the piano, had grown calloused from swinging hammers and hauling lumber. They were building a house for a Cuban clergyman who would serve this isolated mountain community. The work was backbreaking, but Richard welcomed it. Physical exhaustion helped quiet the thoughts that kept him awake at night\u2014the faces of patients he couldn\u2019t help, the memory of that tapeworm writhing across the clinic floor.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As he worked, his mind often drifted back to that humiliating moment in Miami, where police officers had thrown him to the pavement for refusing to use the \u201ccolored\u201d waiting room. The sting of those words\u2014\u201cput your ass in the gutter where you belong\u201d\u2014still burned. But now, standing on this mountainside, watching the clouds cast shadows across the valley below, those prejudices seemed absurd in the face of such widespread human suffering. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Disease doesn\u2019t care what color you are<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, he thought, driving another nail home. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Pain doesn\u2019t check your papers before it visits<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The Strouds moved through their days with quiet purpose, helping people grow gardens, establish bartering networks, and treat their ailments. They weren\u2019t just dispensing medicine; they were strengthening the fabric of the community itself. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This is what real mission work looks like<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, Richard realized. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Not just preaching, but meeting people where they are, helping them help themselves<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Each evening, as darkness settled over the mountains, Richard sat on the steps of the nearly finished house, letting the cool air wash over him. The transformation happening within him felt as vast as the landscape before him. Music, which had once seemed his destiny, now felt like a prelude to something greater. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">But how can I be a doctor when I can\u2019t even handle blood?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The question nagged at him, even as his determination grew.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As his days in Cuba wound down, he thought of Myrna, how she moved through the clinic with such assurance despite her limited training. If she could overcome whatever fears she\u2019d had, so could he. The memory of her steady hands would become symbolic, something to hold onto as he imagined a future so different from what he\u2019d planned only a year or so earlier. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This is what I\u2019m meant to do, <\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">he thought.<\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Not just treat patients but empower others to serve.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1730412769\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1730412769 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>Back Home Again\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cWe all learn that we have to pay our rent for the privilege of living,\u201d she said softly, her voice carrying hard-earned wisdom through this familiar aphorism. \u201cLiving here, living at this time.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The familiar walls of his Norwalk home felt strangely foreign, as though Cuba had shifted his entire world. At night, the silence of his bedroom was deafening. The absence of the chorus of tropical insects made his memories all the louder. The images wouldn\u2019t fade: the tapeworm-afflicted child, Myrna\u2019s steady hands, the endless line of patients. <\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Mabel noticed the change in her son immediately. She watched him push food around his plate at dinner, his mind clearly somewhere else. Her years of cleaning houses to pay for his surgeries, her decision to send him to West Virginia for his health\u2014every sacrifice had been aimed at giving him a chance to have a better life. Now she saw him wrestling with something profound, something that went beyond career choices.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">One evening, as the kitchen filled with the soft light of sunset, she set aside her dish towel and sat across from him. The wooden table between them held years of family discussions, victories, and sorrows. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">My baby\u2019s not a baby anymore<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, she thought, seeing the man emerging in her youngest son\u2019s troubled expression.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cWe all learn that we have to pay our rent for the privilege of living,\u201d she said softly, her voice carrying hard-earned wisdom through this familiar aphorism. \u201cLiving here, living at this time.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard looked up, struck by her words, finding a new way to apply their meaning. The fork he\u2019d been fidgeting with stilled in his hand.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cSometimes we learn it late,\u201d she continued. \u201cSome people never learn that they have that obligation to God and His people.\u201d Her eyes softened with pride as she studied his face. \u201cI\u2019m happy to see you thinking about it while you have plenty of time to figure out how you\u2019re going to pay YOUR rent for living.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">She understands<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, Richard realized, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease for the first time since returning home. Her words seemed to crystallize everything he\u2019d been feeling since Cuba<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u2014<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> &#8211; <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">the inadequacy of his former dreams in the face of such profound need, the pull toward something larger than himself.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cYou\u2019re gonna be happier than most,\u201d she continued, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand, \u201cprobably be harder working than most, and for things that can\u2019t be measured in terms of money.\u201d Her voice caught slightly. \u201cI\u2019m gonna be happy to see the man you\u2019re gonna be.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Later that week, back again in Manny Lee\u2019s (Pop\u2019s) study, Richard found himself surrounded by the familiar scent of pipe tobacco and the wall of books surrounding his desk. He described the summer\u2014the brutal poverty, the endless line of patients, the quiet heroism of people like Myrna. His words came out cautiously at first, as though speaking them aloud might diminish their weight. But Pop listened intently, his chin resting on his hand as he puffed his pipe.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">When Richard finished, Pop leaned back in his chair, exhaling a plume of smoke that swirled lazily toward the ceiling. \u201cSo,\u201d he said, his voice low and thoughtful, \u201cyou went all the way to Cuba to learn a lesson you probably didn\u2019t realize you needed.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard frowned slightly, unsure where this was going. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Pop tapped the pipe gently against his ashtray, knocking out the spent tobacco. \u201cLife isn\u2019t about solving every problem, kid. It\u2019s about choosing which ones you can live with and which ones you can\u2019t. It sounds to me like you\u2019ve found one of the latter.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard sat quietly, letting Pop\u2019s words settle over him.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cMost people,\u201d Pop continued, \u201cwalk through life with their eyes half-closed. They see pain, injustice, need\u2014and they look the other way, because it\u2019s easier. But not you. You saw it, and you didn\u2019t turn away. That\u2019s no small thing.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cI just\u2026 I didn\u2019t do enough,\u201d Richard muttered, his voice cracking slightly.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Pop leaned forward, fixing him with a sharp gaze. \u201cEnough? Enough for what? For the whole world? Of course you didn\u2019t. But you didn\u2019t stand still, either. You stepped into something bigger than yourself. And now you\u2019ve got a choice to make. Are you going to keep stepping forward, or are you going to let fear stop you?\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard didn\u2019t respond, but the knot in his chest began to loosen, just a little.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Pop\u2019s tone softened. \u201cWhat you saw, what you did\u2014it matters. Maybe more than you know. And maybe that\u2019s why you brought it all home with you. Because now, it\u2019s not just something you saw. It\u2019s part of who you are.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard looked at him, unsure how to respond. But deep down, he knew Pop was right. Those moments in Cuba, those faces and voices\u2014they were part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Pop leaned back, his gaze drifting to the big plate glass window. He stared out for a long moment, then turned back to Richard with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. \u201cYou\u2019re a good kid, Richard,\u201d he said softly. \u201cDon\u2019t let this world convince you otherwise. The world\u2019s got plenty of cynics. It doesn\u2019t need you to be one of them.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The room fell quiet, the faint crackle of embers in Pop\u2019s pipe filling the silence. Richard sat back, his eyes drifting to the spines of books lining the shelves behind Pop. Each title seemed to whisper its own question: <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">What will you do now?<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Between Mabel\u2019s faith and Pop\u2019s steady encouragement, the haze in Richard\u2019s mind began to lift. He didn\u2019t have all the answers yet, but the path ahead felt clearer. <\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-2114530154\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-2114530154 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>Finding His Path at Howard\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The diversity that had always made Howard unique now carried deeper significance. Richard found himself drawn to conversations with medical students from Nigeria, Ghana, and the Caribbean. We&#8217;re all fighting the same battle, he realized.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As he prepared to return to Howard University that fall, Pop\u2019s words lingered in Richard\u2019s mind. The path ahead felt daunting, but his resolve had never been clearer. He arrived on campus with a renewed sense of purpose, determined to reshape his future.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">With this newfound clarity, Richard switched his major from music to biology and threw himself into his studies with relentless determination. Evenings that he might once have spent playing the piano were now devoted to long hours in the library, poring over textbooks and struggling to master the intricate vocabulary of science. His fingers, once so nimble on the keys, now wrapped awkwardly around a pencil as he sketched diagrams of cellular structures and scribbled chemical formulas. The work didn\u2019t come easily, but he pushed himself forward, determined to overcome every challenge.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The diversity that had always made Howard unique now carried deeper significance for Richard. In the cafeteria, Richard found himself drawn to conversations with medical students from Nigeria, Ghana, and the Caribbean. Their stories of healthcare challenges in their home countries echoed what he\u2019d witnessed in Cuba. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">We\u2019re all fighting the same battle<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, he realized, as he listened to a Jamaican student describe the toll of parasitic diseases in his village. These exchanges deepened Richard\u2019s understanding of how interconnected the world\u2019s struggles for better health were\u2014and how much work remained to be done.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">That sense of purpose followed him in September 1952, when nineteen-year-old Richard traveled to Boston for the General Convention of the Episcopal Church. Inside the grand hall, hope swelled in his chest as he watched the predominantly white delegates pass a resolution declaring <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cChrist\u2019s teaching is incompatible with every form of discrimination based on color or race.\u201d<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The words carried the weight of possibility, taking a stand almost two years before the Supreme Court\u2019s landmark <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Brown v. Board of Education<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> ruling. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This is what progress looks like,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Richard thought, his optimism lifting with the moment.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_25489\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-25489\" style=\"width: 400px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston\/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-25489\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-25489\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston-300x287.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"383\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston-300x287.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston-1024x980.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston-768x735.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/episcopal-convention-1952-boston.png 1419w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-25489\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Picture of a record sleeve containing a summary of the 1952 Episcopal Church convention in Boston.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Amid the excitement, Richard had the chance to connect with an influential church leader, Dr. Kendall Emerson, who chaired the Harvard Medical School admissions committee. He had been introduced as the brother of Father Sewall Emerson, the beloved rector of St. Paul\u2019s Episcopal Church back home in Norwalk. Father Emerson had been a cornerstone of Richard\u2019s adolescence, guiding him musically and spiritually. Under his mentorship, St. Paul\u2019s had become a refuge where Richard felt valued and uplifted. Now, meeting Father Emerson\u2019s brother\u2014someone who seemed equally kind and encouraging\u2014felt like a continuation of that trust.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. Emerson listened closely as Richard described his dream of becoming a medical missionary. He seemed genuinely moved. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cThe world needs more young men like you,\u201d<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he said, shaking Richard\u2019s hand. The affirmation lit a fire inside Richard, filling him with renewed determination to pursue his medical studies. He left Boston feeling certain that his path was becoming clearer.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">However, the academic transformation ahead wouldn\u2019t be easy. His earlier semesters of half-hearted study cast long shadows over his GPA. Organic chemistry proved particularly daunting. The complex molecular structures seemed to mock him, no matter how hard he tried. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">I can\u2019t fail this,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, staring at yet another disappointing quiz grade. Hours of extra study in the library only seemed to magnify his frustration. No matter how much time he spent trying to master the material, his grades didn\u2019t improve.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">By the end of the semester, his grade hovered at a D. This was far below what he needed to move forward. Desperate, Richard found himself in Dr. Ferguson\u2019s office. The organic chemistry professor was a towering presence at Howard, known for his rigorous expectations and intimidating demeanor. His lectures often left the classroom in awed silence, but they hadn\u2019t been enough to keep Richard from falling behind.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Sitting across from him, Richard gripped the grade report in his hands, his palms damp with sweat. \u201cDr. Ferguson,\u201d he began, his voice shaking slightly, \u201cI know I haven\u2019t performed as well as I should, but I\u2019m asking for a chance. If you could raise my grade to a C, I promise I\u2019ll do everything I can to prove myself.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. Ferguson leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied Richard. \u201cYou know I don\u2019t hand out grades, Richard,\u201d he said finally, his tone measured. \u201cYou earn them.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cI understand that, sir,\u201d Richard replied, his heart pounding. \u201cBut I\u2019ve learned my lesson. I know what\u2019s at stake, and I\u2019m ready to do the work. This grade\u2014it\u2019s not just a letter. It\u2019s my chance to become the doctor I want to be. Without it, I can\u2019t move forward.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Silence stretched between them. The moment pressed heavily on Richard\u2019s chest. Finally, Dr. Ferguson spoke, his voice firm but not unkind. \u201cI\u2019ll raise your grade to a C. But remember, what happens next is up to you. If you\u2019re serious about medical school, you\u2019ll need to prove it.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Relief washed over Richard as he left Dr. Ferguson\u2019s office, but it was tempered by the knowledge that this wasn\u2019t the end of the battle\u2014it was only the beginning. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">I won\u2019t let this chance go to waste,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he vowed. The C was a lifeline, but the road ahead remained steep. His medical school applications would need to overcome the blemishes on his academic record. Late into the night, Richard crafted his medical school application essays, pouring out his heart about his purpose, his transformative experiences, and his desire to serve communities in need.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Weeks later, the first response arrived. Richard held the envelope from Howard University in his hands, his heart pounding as he carefully tore it open. His eyes scanned the page until the words jumped out at him: \u201cWe are pleased to offer you admission.\u201d A wide grin spread across his face as relief and joy surged through him. They had looked beyond the grades. They had believed in him. He read the letter again, savoring the victory.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Days later, a second envelope arrived\u2014this one from Meharry Medical College, the historically Black medical school located in Nashville. The familiar anticipation gripped him as he opened it, his pulse quickening. Another acceptance. A wave of relief swept through him, followed by a flicker of pride. Two medical schools believed in his mission, in his potential. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">They understand what\u2019s possible,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, reviewing both letters again.\u00a0<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Then, there was Harvard. The letterhead was unmistakable. Richard held the envelope with trembling hands, his mind flashing back to the Episcopal Church Convention in Boston two years earlier. He could still hear Dr. Kendall Emerson\u2019s voice, warm and encouraging as they\u2019d discussed his dream of becoming a medical missionary. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The world needs more young men like you,\u201d<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Dr. Emerson had said as he handed Richard the Harvard application with a smile. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This is it,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Richard thought as he carefully opened the envelope. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">They\u2019ll see my potential, too.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">His eyes moved over the words on the page, searching for the acceptance he had hoped for. Instead, a single phrase stopped him cold: <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Not our year for a <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">N<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">egro.<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The words burned into his mind, raw and undeniable. The breath caught in his throat as reality hit him. No mention of his grades or qualifications\u2014just this.<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_27367\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-27367\" style=\"width: 2226px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-27367 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"2226\" height=\"490\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot.png 2226w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot-300x66.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot-1024x225.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot-768x169.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot-1536x338.png 1536w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Howard-Meharry-Harvard-Medschools-exterior-bldgs_combined-photot-2048x451.png 2048w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2226px) 100vw, 2226px\" \/><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-27367\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Howard University College of Medicine (Washington DC) (left): &#8220;We are pleased to offer you admission.&#8221; Meharry Medical College (Nashville, TN) (middle): &#8220;You are accepted.&#8221; Harvard Medical\u00a0School (Cambridge, MA) (right): &#8220;Not our year for a Negro.&#8221;<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The shock froze him in place, the letter still trembling in his hands, though now for new reasons<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">.<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> He read it again, as if doing so might somehow erase the phrase from the page. But there it was, staring back at him. His eyes drifted to the bottom of the letter, where the signature mocked him: <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. Kendall Emerson.<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The same man who had spoken so enthusiastically about his future at the convention. The same man who had smiled warmly as he handed over the application. And now, the man whose hands had written this rejection.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The letter felt like two blows at once\u2014one to his faith in the man who had encouraged him and the other to the institutions he had hoped would rise above prejudice. Harvard Medical School, a beacon of supposed progress; the Episcopal Church, which had so proudly condemned discrimination. And yet, both stood together to uphold the very barriers they claimed to oppose. Dr. Emerson wasn\u2019t just a gatekeeper\u2014he was proof that even within institutions of faith and knowledge, prejudice still ruled.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The rejection letter from Harvard might have closed one door, but Richard refused to let it define him. If anything, the blow only deepened his resolve, sharpening his focus on the path that lay ahead. As he began to navigate the demanding challenges of medical school, he would find himself returning again and again to his vivid memories of Cuba\u2014the clinic, the child, the helplessness of that moment. The vision that had carried him this far\u2014to multiply his hands a thousandfold\u2014remained unshaken, even as life\u2019s obstacles seemed determined to test it. Those memories became a quiet fire within him, pulling him toward the world of tropical medicine and the neglected diseases that plagued vulnerable communities. Harvard had refused him, but Howard had not, and it was there that he would carry his dreams forward.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1224252249\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1224252249 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>An Unexpected Diagnosis Opens New Doors\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard\u2019s pencil moved with careful precision across the page, each stroke capturing the sinuous curves of a parasite\u2019s life cycle. The quiet scratch of graphite on paper filled the late-night silence of the Howard Medical School library. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">These aren\u2019t just diagrams,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, shading in the complex stages of larval development. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">These are the enemies we\u2019re fighting.<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The parasites weren\u2019t abstract concepts to him\u2014they were silent invaders destroying lives, families, communities.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">During lectures, he found himself scribbling questions in the margins of his notes: <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">How do they really spread in the poorest communities? What actually stops them? What could we do differently if we had more trained eyes in the field?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Each lecture brought new insights, new possibilities. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">There are answers here,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">answers that could help people who\u2019ve never seen a doctor.<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Every study session felt like he was gathering tools he would need for the work ahead.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">That growing clarity of purpose carried him as graduation drew near. With his vision sharpened by years of study and his resolve unshaken, Richard approached the Episcopal Church\u2019s Missionary Board once again. \u201cI want to multiply my hands a thousand<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">&#8211;<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">fold,\u201d he told them, \u201cto expand the reach of healthcare by training more than the hands of doctors,\u201d his voice steady with conviction. The board members listened, nodding, but behind their thoughtful expressions registered an unease that Richard couldn\u2019t ignore.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">At home, the source of their hesitation weighed on him. Parbattee, his wife and fellow Howard graduate, had been battling an unexplained illness for months. Subtle symptoms\u2014a lingering fatigue, vague discomfort\u2014had grown into deeper concern. Elevated eosinophils in her bloodwork hinted at a parasitic infection, but no one could pinpoint the cause. This uncertainty gave the Missionary Board pause. They were unwilling to send a missionary\u2019s wife with an undiagnosed condition into the field. For Richard, it was an unexpected roadblock, one that delayed his dreams of immediate deployment indefinitely.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Late one night, sitting at the small desk in their cramped apartment, Richard\u2019s mind began connecting dots. Elevated eosinophils. A subtropical origin. Parbattee\u2019s symptoms\u2014hinting at something deeper\u2014churned in his thoughts. He flipped through textbooks, his pen scratching feverishly as he scribbled notes, cross-referencing her symptoms with what he had learned in class. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Could it be filariasis?<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> The idea hung in his mind, but he needed more.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The next day, he dove deeper, consulting articles and journals on tropical diseases in the medical library, his growing certainty sharpening with each page. But certainty in theory wasn\u2019t enough. Richard approached one of his professors for advice, gathering a fresh round of bloodwork and examining Parbattee\u2019s eosinophil levels with a microscope himself. The telltale markers were there, aligning with everything he had studied. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This fits perfectly,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, his pulse quickening. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">May<\/span><\/i><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">b<\/span><\/i><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">e <\/span><\/i><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">too<\/span><\/i><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> perfectly? <\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">He needed validation from an expert.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Armed with his findings, Richard sought out Dr. Henry Beye, the Director of the Parasitic Disease Service at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, Maryland. Presenting his case with cautious excitement, he laid out the evidence step by step: the clinical symptoms, the data he had gathered, and the connections to her subtropical origins. Dr. Beye leaned back, his smile breaking across his face. \u201cYour diagnosis is spot on,\u201d he said to Richard, the praise landing like a jolt of electricity. \u201cNot many med students would have pieced this together so precisely.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"whitespace-normal break-words\">That moment marked a turning point. Diagnosing Parbattee was a personal victory, but more importantly, it meant she could finally receive proper treatment. With the correct diagnosis confirmed, Parbattee began the appropriate medication regimen for filariasis. Over the following weeks, her symptoms gradually resolved\u2014the lingering fatigue that had plagued her for months began to lift, and the discomfort that had caused them both such worry finally subsided.<\/p>\n<p class=\"whitespace-normal break-words\">The successful diagnosis and treatment also became a breakthrough that cemented Richard&#8217;s growing expertise in tropical medicine.<\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Under Beye\u2019s mentorship, Richard began working in the Laboratory of Tropical Diseases at the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID). By 1955, he was balancing rigorous medical studies with groundbreaking research into <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Wuchereria bancrofti,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> the parasite responsible for filariasis. Each hour in the lab deepened his understanding of how neglected diseases devastated vulnerable populations, sharpening his focus on the urgent need for public health interventions.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Coming upon what had seemed like a closed door\u2014the Missionary Board\u2019s hesitation\u2014had instead led Richard to open another. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Maybe this is how I start multiplying those hands,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought, pouring himself into the work.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">His first assignment with Beye yielded surprising insights. Tasked with identifying filariasis cases in Washington, D.C., Richard turned to the Caribbean student community at Howard. Blood samples revealed that some students carried parasite loads so high that mosquitoes feeding on them died under the strain. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">It\u2019s like nature created its own checkpoint,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he realized, the implications unfolding in his mind. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The very thing that makes them sick might also protect their communities.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The discovery gained attention, and Richard\u2019s findings were featured in Beye\u2019s publications. By 1956, his reputation had grown, leading to a historic honor: Richard became the first medical student commissioned into the U.S. Public Health Service. The appointment aligned perfectly with his drive to merge science with service, opening new doors for his growing mission.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Not long after, another opportunity arose\u2014an offer to direct the Filariasis Control Commission in the French Society Islands. <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Tahiti<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">,<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">,\u201d<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Richard thought, the word conjuring vivid images of turquoise waters and sunlit beaches. But when he brought the offer to Dr. Beye, the elder doctor\u2019s guidance was clear: \u201cComplete your medical training first.\u201d The decision weighed on him, but he knew the wisdom in it. With a deep breath, Richard set aside the dream of Tahiti and redoubled his focus, each step preparing him for the larger battles ahead.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard\u2019s relentless dedication soon caught the attention of other prominent figures in the field, including Dr. Hildrus Poindexter, a trailblazing African American leader in the U.S. Public Health Service.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1754483474\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1754483474 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>Mentorship and Inspiration from Dr. Hildrus Poindexter\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<figure id=\"attachment_25488\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-25488\" style=\"width: 215px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><a href=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/hildrus_poindexter-_photograph_by_l-j-_bruce-chwatt-_wellcome_v0028003\/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-25488\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-25488\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/Hildrus_Poindexter._Photograph_by_L.J._Bruce-Chwatt._Wellcome_V0028003-215x300.jpg\" alt=\"Photo of Dr. Hildrus Poindexter\" width=\"215\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/Hildrus_Poindexter._Photograph_by_L.J._Bruce-Chwatt._Wellcome_V0028003-215x300.jpg 215w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/Hildrus_Poindexter._Photograph_by_L.J._Bruce-Chwatt._Wellcome_V0028003-732x1024.jpg 732w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/Hildrus_Poindexter._Photograph_by_L.J._Bruce-Chwatt._Wellcome_V0028003-768x1074.jpg 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/09\/Hildrus_Poindexter._Photograph_by_L.J._Bruce-Chwatt._Wellcome_V0028003.jpg 1024w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 215px) 100vw, 215px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-25488\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photo of Dr. Hildrus Poindexter &#8211; an early mentor of Dr. Richard Smith.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">In Dr. Poindexter, Richard found more than a mentor\u2014he found an exemplar of excellence in the face of systemic prejudice. A malariologist and tropical disease expert, Poindexter had been indispensable during World War II. \u201cGeneral MacArthur told me he wouldn\u2019t set foot in the Philippines without my help,\u201d Poindexter recounted one day. \u201cHe knew malaria would\u2019ve killed more troops than the enemy.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. Poindexter\u2019s expertise had earned him four major battle stars and the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. His contributions had saved literally thousands of lives. Yet even with his unparalleled achievements, Poindexter had been denied leadership roles at the National Institutes of Health solely because of his race.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cThe system isn\u2019t fair,\u201d he told Richard during one of their many conversations. \u201cAnd it may never be. But you don\u2019t stop. You learn to work within it. You change it from the inside.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Richard felt the weight of those words. The sting of Harvard\u2019s rejection still lingered, a reminder of how entrenched discrimination was, even in the most progressive spaces. But like <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Poindexter, he refused to let systemic injustice limit him. Instead, it fueled his determination. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">I\u2019ll push forward,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> Richard resolved. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">I\u2019ll find new ways to serve.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1595872693\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1595872693 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>First Posts and Transitions\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">After graduating from Howard Medical School in 1957, Dr. Richard Smith headed west to Seattle for his internship at the Public Health Service Hospital. The endless rain mirrored his mood as he wrestled with his frustrated missionary ambitions. But the experience would ultimately serve to broaden his understanding of disease patterns and the connections between public health and prevention.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">A residency in public health and preventive medicine with the Los Angeles City Health Department followed, exposing him to the intricacies of community health systems. By <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">1959<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, he had decided to return to school to <\/span><span data-contrast=\"none\">pursue \u00a0a Master\u2019s in Public Health <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">at Columbia University in New York.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_27373\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-27373\" style=\"width: 1766px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-27373 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"1766\" height=\"426\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined.png 1766w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined-300x72.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined-1024x247.png 1024w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined-768x185.png 768w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Pacific-Medical-Center-Seattle-LA-Public-Health-Bldg-LA-Mallman-School-of-PubHealth-Columbia-U_three-combined-1536x371.png 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1766px) 100vw, 1766px\" \/><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-27373\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Public Health Service Hospital (Seattle, WA), Los Angeles City Health Department (Los Angeles, CA, Mallman School of Public Health, Columbia Univeristy (New York, NY).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\t<div id=\"gap-1440262077\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-1440262077 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>The Smith Production Company\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The nurses at the U.S. Public Health Service Hospital on Staten Island had seen many birth announcements, but nothing quite like the one Dr. Richard Smith was crafting at his wife\u2019s bedside. Parbattee, exhausted but smiling, watched her husband hunched over a notepad, scribbling and crossing lines out with the intensity he usually reserved for medical charts.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cListen to this,\u201d he said, clearing his throat with mock formality before reading aloud:<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\"><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The Smith Production Company<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">New York City<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Announces their new 1959 model:<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Rik Balakvishma<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">6 pounds, 11 ounces<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335551550&quot;:2,&quot;335551620&quot;:2,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\"><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Designer and chief engineer: Dr. Richard A. Smith<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Production Manager: Parbatee B. Smith<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Technical Assistant: Dr. John Dorson, New York City<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">In-the-hangar consultant: Dr. LeRoy Weeks, Los Angeles<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Assembly Plant: U.S. Public Health Service Hospital, Staten Island, NYC<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">November 7th, 1959<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Model released at 2:29 a.m.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335551550&quot;:2,&quot;335551620&quot;:2,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\"><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Two lung power<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Free squealing<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Streamlined body<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Hair-lined non-convertible top<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Economical feed<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">External plumbing<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Water cooled exhaust<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<br \/><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Changeable seat covers<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335551550&quot;:2,&quot;335551620&quot;:2,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\"><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The management assures the public that there will be no more models during the balance of the year.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335551550&quot;:2,&quot;335551620&quot;:2,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Parbattee burst into laughter, the sound mixing with baby Rik\u2019s soft breathing. \u201cRichard, you cannot possibly send that to people.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cWhy not?\u201d he grinned, already imagining the reactions. \u201cIt\u2019s accurate. Completely factual. And it\u2019ll give people a smile.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Within days, the announcement appeared in newspapers from Los Angeles to New York, bringing chuckles to colleagues who recognized Smith\u2019s irreverent humor even when announcing a new baby.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27416\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement-99x300.jpg\" alt=\"Birth Announcement of Rik Smith\" width=\"329\" height=\"994\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement-99x300.jpg 99w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement-339x1024.jpg 339w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement-508x1536.jpg 508w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement-678x2048.jpg 678w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/Dr_Richard_A_Smith_son_Rik_Birth_Announcement.jpg 694w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 329px) 100vw, 329px\" \/><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-45274440\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-45274440 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>Seeing Patterns\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">In 1960, Dr. Smith returned to Seattle to begin work as an epidemiologist with the Washington State Department of Health. His opening investigation appeared routine<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">:<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> a typhoid outbreak linked to a church picnic. \u201cBe sure to see if a grandmother made the potato salad,\u201d his supervisor said. The comment struck Dr. Smith as oddly specific, but as he drove east across the state, it kept echoing in his mind.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559739&quot;:0,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">He began the slow work of interviews, tracing what each person had eaten and when symptoms began. One dish surfaced again and again: homemade potato salad, prepared by an elderly woman who felt perfectly healthy. A grandmother, indeed. Treated decades earlier and symptom-free ever since, she was a textbook typhoid carrier, never knowing she could still infect others.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">She\u2019d carried the bacteria for twenty-five years without knowing.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">The case taught Dr. Smith something he had not fully grasped before: Public health was not just about treatment. It required prevention, vigilance, and the recognition that one overlooked detail could endanger an entire community.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">During his residency, Dr. Smith investigated outbreaks of rabies, encephalitis, and botulism, but this case felt different. Each mystery became a test of logic and patience, requiring more than medical knowledge. It called for the ability to see the system as a whole.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">He realized this was where his strength lay: recognizing patterns and understanding how things connect.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">He could not yet know how crucial that mindset would become. But the typhoid case and the quiet revelations it sparked marked a turning point. Medicine was no longer just about treating illness; it was about seeing how one person\u2019s health could quietly shape the well-being of many.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n\t<div id=\"gap-744069747\" class=\"gap-element clearfix\" style=\"display:block; height:auto;\">\n\t\t\n<style>\n#gap-744069747 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/div>\n\t\n\n<h2><strong>Growing Frustrations with the Episcopal Church\u00a0<\/strong><\/h2>\n<blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">When the Church finally<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">responded, they completely missed the point. Their offer\u2014a position at St. Luke\u2019s Hospital in Manila, Philippines\u2014represented exactly the kind of traditional one-doctor approach Dr. Smith was trying to move beyond.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Even as Richard pursued his career with the U.S. Public Health Service, his dream of what he would come to refer to as <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201c<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">multiplying his hands<\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201d<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">through medical missions hadn\u2019t dimmed. <\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Dr. Smith had written a proposal to his Church\u2019s board describing how he saw healthcare in the future, especially in the developing world. He called it Project 2-C, naming it for Christ\u2019s Second Great Commandment\u2014\u201dLove thy neighbor as thyself\u201d in the Gospel of Matthew (Matt. 22:39). The proposal he crafted drew deeply on his Cuban experience, outlining a bold plan to train \u201cquasi-doctors\u201d who could provide care to various populations within a country. The proposal outlined a bold vision: teams of twelve health professionals and their families who would commit to a revolutionary venture. These teams would travel into a series of countries, spending a few years training local providers before moving on to new areas of need. Most importantly, they wouldn\u2019t just treat patients\u2014they would train trainers, creating self-sustaining systems of care that would continue long after the teams departed.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559739&quot;:0,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">When the Church finally<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">responded, they completely missed the point. Their offer\u2014a position at St. Luke\u2019s Hospital in Manila, Philippines\u2014represented exactly the kind of traditional one-doctor approach Richard was trying to move beyond.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">\u201cI want to train people\u2014I don\u2019t want to be running a clinic,\u201d he <\/span><span data-contrast=\"auto\">told them<\/span> <span data-contrast=\"auto\">firmly, the faces of Cuba\u2019s suffering masses still vivid in his memory. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">One doctor can only do so much<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">, he thought. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">But a doctor who trains others\u2026<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">His college chaplain and mentor, Reverend John Burgess, recognized Dr. Smith&#8217;s vision for taking medical missions to an entirely new level of effectiveness. When the rejection came from the board in New York, Burgess pursed his lips and said, \u201cI\u2019m going to take this to a higher authority.\u201d<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_25491\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-25491\" style=\"width: 207px\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\"><a href=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/magazine\/2024\/02\/23\/the-people-collector-alternate-version\/john-melville-burgess\/#main\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-25491\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-25491\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/02\/john-melville-burgess-207x300.jpg\" alt=\"Photo of Rev. John Melville Burgess, circa 1970.\" width=\"207\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/02\/john-melville-burgess-207x300.jpg 207w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2024\/02\/john-melville-burgess.jpg 552w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 207px) 100vw, 207px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-25491\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photo of Rev. John Melville Burgess. \u00a9The Archives of the Episcopal Church, DFMS<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">It was during this period of uncertainty that Dr. Smith accepted a new position in Tuba City, Arizona. The bright beauty of red rock country offered a stark contrast to Seattle\u2019s grey skies and rain as he took up his post as Field Medical Officer at the U.S. Public Health Service Indian Hospital in July 1961. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">But his time there would be brief\u2014a flyer about the Peace Corps healthcare program caught his eye, leading to that fateful October meeting with Sargent Shriver where his next path became clear: Nigeria.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Meanwhile, Burgess had set his own plan in motion. He arranged to be on the same plane as the Archbishop of Canterbury, flying from London to New Delhi for the 1961 World Council of Churches meeting. During that flight, Burgess presented Dr. Smith&#8217;s 2-C proposal, persuading the Archbishop to champion it before the Council.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">As Dr. Smith prepared for his departure to Nigeria, Burgess\u2019s audacious plan was unfolding halfway around the world. But in December, word came from New Delhi\u2014the World Council of Churches, like the Episcopal Church before it, had deemed the proposal too radical.<\/span><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span data-contrast=\"auto\">This time, though, the rejection felt different. Richard was already in Nigeria, discovering new ways to implement his vision through the Peace Corps. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Maybe this is how it was meant to be,<\/span><\/i><span data-contrast=\"auto\"> he thought. <\/span><i><span data-contrast=\"auto\">Sometimes the most direct path isn\u2019t the right one.<\/span><\/i><span data-ccp-props=\"{&quot;201341983&quot;:0,&quot;335559738&quot;:240,&quot;335559739&quot;:240,&quot;335559740&quot;:276}\">\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-27379 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/US-PeaceCorps-Logo.svg_-300x300.png\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/US-PeaceCorps-Logo.svg_-300x300.png 300w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/US-PeaceCorps-Logo.svg_-150x150.png 150w, https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/3\/2025\/06\/US-PeaceCorps-Logo.svg_.png 640w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/p>\n\n\t\t<\/div>\n\n\t\t\n<style>\n#section_540456263 {\n  padding-top: 30px;\n  padding-bottom: 30px;\n}\n<\/style>\n\t<\/section>\n\t\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It was a summer that would change everything. Richard stepped off the DC-3 and into a haze of heat and uncertainty. The air clung to him, thick and humid, carrying the sharp scent of damp earth. Jagged mountains stretched toward a sky heavy with tropical clouds. As he stood under a sun that seemed close enough to touch, a flicker of unease twisted in his stomach. What exactly had he gotten himself into?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":27083,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[68],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-26901","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-special-series"],"cp_meta_data":{"_edit_lock":["1761952354:173"],"_edit_last":["221"],"_thumbnail_id":["27083"],"post_order":["2"],"_wp_old_date":["2025-06-18"]},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26901","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=26901"}],"version-history":[{"count":133,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26901\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":28555,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/26901\/revisions\/28555"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/27083"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=26901"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=26901"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/familymedicine.uw.edu\/medex\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=26901"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}