When I pick up pills at Scofield's to keep alive, they have to ask my name. That's how the nail of how old you are gets pounded in thick skull.
So an abbreviated bio to introduce my old self to young ones seems in order.
Farmer father assumed I'd farm. Age 15 sent me to Ag school. Right off the bat I got (pre antibiotic) mastoid infection. Three months, four surgeries later, parents got back an 80 pound skeletal too stubborn to die.
Age 19 I began chicken, pig, mortgage, box car housed farming. Stir crazy 24 I successfully petitioned (without hi school) admission to U of M. Two years later finished pre med and entered U of M Med School.
Finished that. Wife and 2 kids. Came here. (to farm farmers) Begged and got built soon-to-be-torn down hospital. (3 more kids)
I patted butt cry a bunch of you, a bunch of the best have died. So to you who don't know my name, I'm still (at 93 yrs.) able to tell you what to do, what not, and best of all "how" - even if you don't listen. (Smile)
When I quit my MD job - I burned $30,000 of receivables because they would have if they could have - and to say thanks, I added $5,000 to the library. So when I'm not here to tell you, you can look up from down and warm your lazy butt in the process.
Robert Eugene Molenaar, M.D.
P.S.: Artifacts of human anthropology intrigue. Jigsaw puzzle of Cosmology the language of God, faith and acceptance. Character the product of both.