xt79cn6xxk3g https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt79cn6xxk3g/data/mets.xml The Frontier Nursing Service, Inc. 1953 bulletins  English The Frontier Nursing Service, Inc. Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Frontier Nursing Service Quarterly Bulletins The Quarterly Bulletin of The Frontier Nursing Service, Inc., Vol. 28, No. 3, Winter 1953 text The Quarterly Bulletin of The Frontier Nursing Service, Inc., Vol. 28, No. 3, Winter 1953 1953 2014 true xt79cn6xxk3g section xt79cn6xxk3g Ciba ®ua tz Ip igullztiu
' ' 5 ' ZS
Qulumc 28 wmtzr, 1953 £umh2r 3
,)V ‘ z [rf
: · ri ·,- _} ··V-¢.@}‘ , ¤~
i· 7** “     ‘” ,    V V V. _
  rs ..,. VV.,  . V   .»>;;;·? ¢;¤~   
r~2¤£ ;£.·i·V`?_".`T?—?V> Qi;-;.V—V_--> :;=·-~3;        V V · .   V 2"-?
  ‘·‘-   ~·   ‘`‘;‘ V   ~%’V      
V ‘,   ?~eV',,¢t;»V   -·.·;i2;:»·3Jy; s.V   _.# i‘·-*l··®  " iyg. i;5—¢5•,-V ~` V¤,·= ‘ #$5 ’}f;g{;i`§    , __ _ ~·i  tf ;V· · __;g;;  V =
;~-V - ‘ ;-=—* ·  1: V¤».>;:-%·Z;¤·_·;, ,   ,    few-  Vw?} ··¤z V *;-·—l  ·;?gPgsk·V¤; _-;   V , VV 3;;*;,  $3-$·g;:%;¢·»” · w
- = -1 V   - t *=   ’ Qi-   ~ <&¤¤V   -:.,4 V-’ sits - , V
  j»V V V     ¢ · Vw- · iV '{.ufQ’=?5.  V        “ .· ·· · ~=·¢&¥;g,;-;~··=j        t ¤
·'     - : ‘ V     V S ` ‘   V, "`     ···—      snaqws ‘·:;esV·VV— V.,l.{·=¤ ‘§ ;~ VrV V;L,*·   =%?7jg.€,;;\;·;;_;5;     WV. V ;» VV; ‘ —
 __   Avrl L- A rt · 4   , V- · H 3   Fi.   --%V , ?g zV    _  
.q$;>§;i>;g;VV;_T§;   2 . Mi V   _ _ T I _v _V_     VH-&i_r;i_m&&  r..`..       _   Li  
    ~‘--`° · ' .-‘ ‘ V   ·;LJ€»a;‘·/'         I M     » Y1
- " ° ‘¤"’*’2·;;t;;*,5V,   -`   · ¥ AV   2 {sr TF?¥.?;y'V   · ’F‘ r ¢V =-     V; "r]         ’
3     '‘`' T  { · ME     V  l‘ ·  `f.     _, ,_*"}Tg_;._     ~.‘‘ ?     AV   - ·-L;   _` V
 ·¤g,·;j;j-·a__ ·-V     V   1 — ~; __ ; _  ~-_   - " _   _.` ·     ;;*‘¥#?·i V           · i " ,;··
A _ if  H V    VJ  5 · E   fr  " ·~ · ‘   _§_zrnVj ·   5,%-·   __; _
· V,   _   .·. ` -:.;;.,4 V   V -  ~ ,e·   .. _ _ _,__ if-   a
VV       -- V V    V,‘¥*‘;a» ,.V~-  "¤~¤~  _  mu —¢ a_;~» , .VV, V V ~   ·
‘     ,   6.      - ‘V‘’     f=  V       .   ·..VV V VV
»···;»·.::;; ··*,, ‘ ·,`_;· ’. ‘. -..     .» -_ W; ·. . V, "‘~ . .- `   · · ,*;{,_-,VV_ 'j .,;V¢·t"‘j»’
  _     - -VV,         ·       ·'  »   ·-   »V      
     ::‘ 5- · · .;V·4ex=~"-V     » V V.         ¤· ‘   --V-     V-V .. fr ;   ..VV V- V
‘   `-V- Ya  ·-»-     “ ·i;‘$!V‘V `V‘V     `'’`  ?"i‘§‘F*T_,Q“.    ‘.·`‘   ·`     Z— ° 4 ‘ ‘ I
F.  ,V»V   .,4   -·       {rat   »`-`·‘     · V >   ·- · ‘’·‘ " .=V» i   V- é
      4;·;`_ VV      :#‘··¤‘:;.V;. of   -··. {Li;   =·=’·=‘· .V;V¢Vy;.¥.,V_’z=¢>.¤Jg·VQ·;   L"*j.;·*--z¤f;·;;: ‘§‘*·;·f:;?§”_i'- Vi;     _. =   _ _  §·Ii   ·
  ‘·-· —    VV  V-»-. 5  ¤s`> i» Q: Y¥'¤(·;'f '{ ·V j’ 2 ; Q; _
—Q. ·  Q’ V   »·’· ’°i*iZ‘VVVV 5.     --· wx- -V V   VV J ‘ . ’ ‘
 -*`:~-k·’*“*`. _ ,;,,5; V—--   »`’‘‘   »=°V    `-=V  €` `"il   `‘V’V·~- {  V  
·-****"-   ·   ~····  ’ wl -A;¥   ‘J“L¥é%*’?*- ‘’‘*```   .:.»-V a   ‘VVV~ .-2   --‘A :<—-   ‘ ~     -‘V· - r »‘`— Gi; 
      .. V - V·     ''A'‘   —   *·'`·   V. K   —*-`     ‘"»= ‘ M
    -   V»   iw   V;  1 W, if Q   S     V ‘_ V . · . VV _§_-_;   _V   ` YV  
  V_.,. _ 2 '   Z _   ‘ ` L     V ‘   ‘ ‘ Q V_ if _     _ ·-    
Ancestral home and birthplace of
Ann P. MacKinnon
On the lsle of Skye
Inner Hebrides - Scotland

Published Quzirtorly by thc Frontinr Nursing Service, Lexington, Ky. ,j
Subsrzription Prim $1.00 Por Your ‘
"Entrxrccl as smruml class m:1ttm· Juno 30. 1926, nt thu Plwst Ofllcu nt Imxiiigtoii, Ky., A
imcler Act of l\’[ar<:h 3, 1879." ·
C4'»}')§'I`i§.f‘lt, 1953. FI’r»III,i<·r NI11·>¤i11;: S¤·rviw·_ Ime

A Hazard Party Lncile Hodges 35
A Tribute to Helece Randall (Illus.) 49
Beyond the Mountains 45
Field Notes 52
  Good-night to Skye (Poem) C. L. M. 2
Q In Memoriam—"Mac" M. B. 3
` 'J) My First Day at Wendover Linda Branch 19
It   My First Night Call Vivienne Blake 43
{ Old Courier News 23
  Old Staff News 37
i People We Need 33
Smoke House Delivery (Illus.) Anna May January 14
_ Snow Shadow Picture Ellen Wadsworth
~ Inside back cover
` Wide Neighborhoods—A Report Mary Breckinridge 17
A Message to Mac’s Friends 13
_ Barnes, Elizabeth (Photograph) 32
Butler, Judith Taylor (Photograph) 36
Fatherly Advice The Thonsandsticks 55
Hazards of Birth Nicholson J. Eastman, M.D. 21
Just Jokes, 48
, Just Jokes 51
[ Our Mail Box 35
l Parcel Post Table (Illus.) 44
` Post Office Truck Ruined by Blast 16
Solle’s Sales 36
.}· Tenacity (A Cartoon) Sophie Lewis 22
j _ The Wiltshire Moonrakers English Post Card 51
  U. S. Consul General in Madras Contributed 22
5 Words Which Humble Us Nicholson J. Eastman, M .D. 34

The sun has IiT The meunTain peaks. I
And gIeams aTar his spears eT IighT;  
Frem CeeIin`s Seund The sea-mew`s cry  
Breaks en The sTiIIness eT The nighT. Y
_ The Tisher Trem The sunIiT creek
· Sails Tewards The wesT, and seen musT I,
Then, Iingering en The recks, Ibid ·
A Ieng geed—nighT Te Skye! Q
The resTIess sea ThaT eI;>Ies beIew
Bears me Te—merrew en iTs breasT,
Far Trem This isIe eT gIeems and g_Ieams  
Fer disTanT prairies in The WesT.  
YeT when ne mere These cIiTTs can scan, I
I`II envy guIIs ThaT hemewards TIy, I
In Tancy, picTure where They`II nesT  
In seme Iene cave in Skye. [
`Tis wandering here `meng yeuThTuI haunTs
ThaT makes me IeaTh Te say TareweII;
Fer every meund er cairn I pass
I·Ias seme eId TaIe Te TeII. _
Oh! ne`er TergeT my isIand heme,
When dweIIing `neaTh sierras high; -
Fer whe has viewed can e`er TergeT
The misTy isIe eT Skye? `
The sun has seT, The darkness spreads.  
`Tis Time Te Ieave This IeneIy shere; i
A IasT and sad TareweII musT Take
Te scenes I may beheId ne mere.
The creTT I pass, where Ieern and bred.  I
The resTing—pIace where cIansTeIk Iie.
And pray an e>. Nunsmc smzvxcm a
  ilu jliilzmurnam
{ "Mac"
E Born on the Isle of Skye, Scotland, March 4, 1885
Died at Hyden, Kentucky, February 6, 1953
.- If Mac had died in Skye, Highland pipers of her clan might,
*5 at her last rites, have played the Flowers of the Foresf—Scot-
land’s dirge. During the wars in which Mac served, often under
fire, Flowers of the Forest was played by Scottish pipers for
g such as she, and the marching feet of the kilted soldiers could
§ be heard as though muffled against the music of the bagpipes.
E But if Mac’s dust does not rest in Skye, it will lie in the
g mountains of Kentucky—the country that she loved next best
{ after her own.
F Mac’s descent was of a pure Highland strain. The name
MacKinnon means "son of Fingon." It is first found in 1409
A when a Lachlan MacFingon witnessed a charter for the Lord
of the Isles. A M’ Kinnon named John was the last Abbot of
Iona. The Fingon in whom the clan had their origin was a real
historical person and of Scots royal race. He was a grandson
l of Gregor, the founder of the Clan Gregor, who was a son of
- Kenneth MacAlpine—the first king of united Scotland. The
MacKinnons are thus members of the great Clan Alpine.
‘ The MacKinnon lands in Skye were called in Gaelic, "Srath
mhie Fhionghain" (MacKinnon’s Strath). The clan served with
  Montrose at Inverlochy and Auldearn, and we find the clan at
i the battle of Worcester standing bravely against the Round-
‘ heads. They figured largely in "the ’45" and their chief was
long imprisoned. The chieftainship was held for 450 years in
° unbroken succession. Their crest is a boar’s head with other
· insignia. Their motto, translated, is "Fortune assists the
. daring."
Qi Mac’s mother was Georgena Urguhart whose ancestors can
- be traced at Cromarty to 1329, when the estate was granted to
  Adam of Urquhart ("de Urquhartt"). A Sir Thomas Urquhart .
l , was a translator of the French writer, Rabelais.

 4 THE QUARTERLY Ru1.1.E·1·m  
It was not until after Mac’s death that we knew anything
about her ancestors except that they were Highlanders. In
going through her papers, including citations that none of us
had ever seen, her niece "Ena" (Georgena-—Mrs. Carl Lee)
whom Mac loved like a daughter, found a wee tartan-covered
book in which Mac had pasted the poem called Good-night to
Skye, clippings from the papers about her clan, and other g
mementos dear to her. i
H ;l
Mac, the daughter of John MacKinnon, and the youngest
of his twelve children, was reared, as well as born at Roag _
House on the Isle of Skye. The MacKinnons had such a happy g
family life that the sons and daughters of the house remained t
devoted to one another after they had grown up and scattered
to the winds of heaven. The three nearest Mac’s age—a brother _-
John, and two sisters, Sophia and Catherine, were her special
chums. All have gone before her to the Land o’ the Leal. But
for years Mac had the joy of sharing the North American con- .
tinent with John and his family, who lived in Canada and whom  
she visited, and with Catherine, Mrs. Donald MacLean-Ena’s
mother. Mr. and Mrs. MacLean became American citizens. They
lived on Long Island and Mac saw them on her holidays.
Although English was often spoken at Roag House, Gaelic ·
was the language of the younger children. Mac told us that she »
tended to think in Gaelic, since it was her native tongue. The
religious afiiliation of the MacKinnons was with the Free Church
of Scotland, which later reunited with the Established Church
of Scotland. Mac’s Christian upbringing, even more than her
Highland heritage, inspired the bounteousness of her dedication »
to the service of God, through service to her fellow men. The ,
bent Mac followed, in preparation, is given in the following table: ?
General Education—Dunvegan High School, Dunvegan, Isle
of Skye, Scotland ‘
Leaving certificate with credits in English, History, French, ·
Latin .
(Certiiicate of the Scottish Board of Education)  Y,
Nursing Education—4 years at the School of Nursing of Ayr i
General Hospital, Ayr, Scotland  

 5  Fnourimn mmsmo smzvxcm 6
(Certificate for General Nursing and Fevers)
Queen’s District Nursing and Midwifery, Edinburgh,
(Certificates of the Queen’s Institute of District Nursing,
; and of the Central Midwives Board of Scotland)
1 In
  At the outbreak of war in 1914 Mac volunteered, at the
request of the French Army, to be one of eight British sisters
(the name for head nurses in Great Britain) in the "French
E Flag Nursing Corps." They were moved up to the front with
’, the Army and were under fire a great part of the time. They
stayed in clearing stations——dugouts, huts, sometimes a house.
_ When the lines were overrun by the Germans, they tended the
` wounded in the evacuation by ambulance under a fusillade
emiemie—an enemy fire so devastating that in one of Mac’s cita-
_ tions, her "remarkable coolness and courage" under fire are cited.
  Among her decorations Mac held the Croix de Guerre, which
France never gives but for exceptional gallantry under fire.
As to what the French soldier, the poilu, thought of Mac,
we will let him tell it in his own words. Most of the pages in
. Mac’s wee tartan-covered book are filled with goodbye messages
, from the French, with whom and for whom she had worked
from 1914 to 1919. Here are translations of a few of these:
"a Scotswoman so gallant, so charming"
"Gracious comrade ..... of these long months in war"
"Your inexhaustible devotion to the wounded and to the
» sick, your gaiety"
, "This valiant Scotswoman of so high a dignity"
And a Frenchman, writing in English, said:
‘ "From a patient who ..... enjoyed so much with the charm
. of your talking!"
- And again, a translation from the French:
  “Vive, Miss! Ever bold, brave and smiling.
  Au revoir, Miss! We go our ways, Au Rev0ir.”
l Although Mac spoke several times of the courage of the
 5 poilu, and of his sense of fun, which touched her own at many

points, the only way we had of knowing what those awful years .
of war had meant to her was through the dread she showed in '
every thunder storm. If she was indoors and her duties per- p
mitted, she would hide herself until the reverberations of the
thunder—so like the roar of great guns——had ceased to torture v_
her memory. She remained in France after 1919 for work with _
the Rockefeller Foundation at Marseilles and in Paris. Her time  
was spent in a program of training French girls of good educa- j
tion, of whom she had twelve, for work in France: in tubercu—  
losis, infant welfare, and general nursing. The best of these ,-
girls were sent afterwards to England for further training. ,
When they returned to France, they replaced the British sisters ;
and supervisors of whom Mac was one. li
iv  .
In 1928 we asked Mac to come to the Frontier Nursing .
Service in Kentucky. She arrived shortly before the dedication  
by Sir Leslie MacKenzie of Hyden Hospital and Health Center, ;
with which she was to become more identified than any of us,  S
and where she died. I
Mac’s first regular assignment in the Frontier Nursing i
Service was as one of the two district nurse—midwives stationed f
at the Jessie Preston Draper Memorial Nursing Center (Beech
Fork). At that time it was forty horseback miles from the rail-  ·
road. No visits that I made to outpost centers in our early years  .
gave me such sheer delight as the ones to Beech Fork while i
Mac was there. She would come riding to meet me, followed by
her collie dog, Scottie, or she would be waiting for me on the  K
bank, below the center, when Teddy Bear carried me through A
the rushing ford. The traillto Beech Fork went right up the
Middlefork of the Kentucky River for something like a quarter `
of a mile. When the river was up, the Beech Fork nurses were
hard put to it to reach their patients, some of whom lived on .
rough branches with names like Soap and Tallow, and Ten ·
Step Branch. Mac’s arm was broken in some such section. She  ‘
rode the twelve miles down to Wendover with it in a sling. She  _
said, "Ah! It’s nothing. But it should be set."
When Mac’s ability began to show up in her work at Beech  

.  1moN·1·11z:R Nunsme smnvicm 7
, Fork, we transferred her to Hyden Hospital as its superin-
tendent, in September 1929. From then on until 1940, she
wrestled with the problems of running a remotely rural hospital,
under conditions I described in Wide Neighborhoods, and need
not go into here. In Dr. Hiram C. Capps, our first medical
I director; and then in Dr. John H. Kooser, who'stayed until the .
, second World War; in Dr. R. L. Collins, who rode over from
- Hazard to meet every surgical emergency, Mac had powerful
l and friendly physicians. From the nurses who worked under
Q. her direction, on the districts around Hyden as well as in the
, Hospital, she received loyal support of a high quality. But hers
E was the responsibility for sick people, and complicated mater-
Q nity cases—under conditions where the pumping system or the
well itself might break down; the sewage system might boil
Q up like a geyser through the ground; the electricity needed
 l for ice and sterilization, as well as for lights, depended on hos-
_ pital engines that often passed out; where the cows had to be
  bred to keep up the milk supply; where women in labor rode
_ up on horseback; gunshot cases were carried in on stretchers;
  burned children in the arms of girl couriersehers a responsi-
 1 bility that taxed to its utmost even her administrative genius.
F And through it all, her sense of fun persisted. If I dropped
in unexpectedly, dismounted from my horse to look her up in
 a the drug room or the wards, she would come out to tell me, with
a humor more infectious than any I ever knew, how she had
. spent the night on a cot in the hallway, because a patient had
{ needed her bed and I had told her, "Give up your bed, even when
you haven’t got one." ·
1 War again! Mac did not leave us for the Old Country until
 · May 30, 1940. She wanted to do all she could for us during a
time when the Frontier Nursing Service was more terribly dis-
rupted than ever before or since, by the return to Europe of
twelve of the British members of our staff. Many hearts grieved
{ to see her go over——neighbors, patients, associates, trustees of
the FNS——because all knew she would choose again a post of
danger. As for me, my friendship with Mac had become one of
H the deepest life ever gave me, and what I felt can best be
e expressed in Eighteenth Century lines from her own Scotch
 · poetry:

 · f
The best o' joys maun hae an end, __
The best o’ friends maun part, I trow;  
The langest day will wear awa’, l
And I maun bid fareweel to you. I
Soon after her arrival in England, Mac was made superin—  
tendent of a casualty evacuation train. We learned years later .
that it was No. 22. Its mission, like that of other hospital trains, ll
was to go on orders to a city that had been blitzed and as far ,,l
into the city as tracks remained to carry it. The injured men, _
women and children, some of them horribly mangled, would be  
carried to the train. Then it moved forward in the direction of ,¢
whatever unblitzed city had been assigned for the reception of  I
the patients. The train carried surgeons who were able to save  _
‘ many lives by operating in transit. One or more of the cars were T
operating rooms. Other cars had tiers of berths. Mac’s thirty-  
odd nurses, aides, and orderlies were able not only to tend the ,_,
patients but to give first aid to their minor injuries. As her I
train moved on through the night with its load of mangled  I
humanity, we may be sure that Mac’s emotion never clouded E
her judgment. Her limitless compassion, divinely given, would  {
expend itself, as always, in service. `
At Newmarket in East Anglia where the train was based,
Mac and her assistants created a garden on what had been a i
rubbish dump—a garden not only of vegetables, but with a lawn, I
flower beds, rockery, and two ornamental pools! She used the j
collection of money we took up and sent over with her, to give .
the poorer children in Newmarket the most wonderful Christmas E
party any of them had ever had.  ¢’
One bit more about that casualty evacuation train. When  
Lady Mountbatten made a visit of inspection, she said to Mac,
‘ "Miss MacKinnon, your train is as clean as my husband’s ship." 1
When train No. 22 was blitzed, Mac sustained, among other
injuries, a broken back. She had nursed me when my own back . 
was broken. She had gone to Boston years later, when I had f
a spinal fusion, to stand by. But now there was nothing I could §
do for her. We could not even mention the blitzing of the train  
in our Quarterly Bulletin, because such things were hushed up
during war.  
U i

i, After the close of hostilities in Europe, Mac was assigned
—v  by the military services, to which she still belonged, to adminis-
— trative work at one of their hospitals, Black Notley in Essex.
5 When she was released from further service, she went to Edin-
», burgh to nurse her sister, Sophia, through a lengthy illness that
  closed in death.
  On New Year’s eve, 1948, Mac came back to the Frontier
.' Nursing Service. Several of us met her in Hyden to bring her
· to Wendover for her first few days in Kentucky. The river was
 »; in tide. When we handed her a leg of mutton as her share of
 ' the supplies to be carried across the swinging bridge, she said,
· hugging it, "I haven’t seen so much meat in one piece since I
left Kentucky?
° She took over again her duties as superintendent of Hyden
,,, Hospital. During the something less than five years she was
 A left to us, she carried a load as heavy as that of our early years,
 A although in many ways unlike it. There were still the herd of
f cows, the deep well and the pumping system with their break-
‘ downs, the sewage system with its unexpected geysers where
A all seemed calm. But electricity was rarely a problem now be-
l cause we had the beneiit of public power. On the other hand, it
- was after Mac’s return that money was given us to build the
| Margaret Voorhies Haggin Quarters for Nurses, and to recondi-
i tion a wing of the Hospital for additional patient beds. The
 { hammering of carpenters, the chipping of stones by stone-
 E masons, the rushing in and out of p1umbers—such things
M  created a confusion, and a dust, that Mac took in her stride.
e She told me once that the dust was so awful she had often to
  go to a bathroom to wash out the inside of her mouth! But the
1 Hospital continued to run with the exquisite order so charac-
T teristic of Mac’s administrative genius. The patients received
 . as nearly perfect care as can be given, the medical director had
_: a cooperation that never failed, the staff a leadership truly
l inspiring, and the hospital employees from Alonzo, the head
3 man, on through all the ranks of men and women, had a chief
A whom they adored.
  Among Mac’s last adventures was Dr. Massie’s big surgical

clinic. While the Hospital filled up with newly operated-on
patients, the skies were lit at night by flames from the forest  ,
fires on the ridge some 800 feet above the buildings. The clinic 5
was over, and rain was falling on the forest Hres, when Mac
suffered a coronary occlusion on November 9, with devastating ,
heart complications. Dr. den Dulk pulled her through the vio-  
lence of the attack. When Brownie phoned me in Chicago, ,
where I had landed, she said arrangements had been made to I
move Mac to Lexington in our own Station Wagon ambulance, {
in order to get her under the care of that great heart specialist,  
Dr. Charles N. Kavanaugh. Betty Lester went down with her,  
and then returned to take over the running of Hyden Hospital, .
while Nancy Boyle stayed on in Lexington as Mac’s special I
nurse. I
For eight weeks Mac stayed at the Good Samaritan Hospital
in Lexington. Nothing could have exceeded the kindness of the
Blue Grass people who had known and loved her for over twenty ,
years. Messages and presents poured in upon her. The Lexing-  .
ton physicians tiptoed in and out of her room, even peeping into  I
her oxygen tent, as though to convey to her that they were
behind her to a man, and to a woman——Dr. Josephine D. Hunt. `
Her own Kentucky mountain crowd never let more than a few g
days go by without a visit down to ‘her. The niece she loved, “
Ena, spent a week at the Lafayette Hotel, in order to see her
for a few moments two or three times a day. `
On Wednesday, January 7, Mac was brought back to Hyden _
in a Lexington ambulance, put at her disposal as a courtesy by .
old friends. She was carried to her own room at the Nurses’ I
Quarters and placed in her own bed from which she could see, i
facing her, the picture of Roag House and, from the windows,
the comings and goings of people with whom and for whom she 4
had lived. The change back to her old surroundings lifted her
spirits. In Betty Lester, who took over the greater part of her
nursing care even while she continued to run Hyden Hospital, _  ‘
she had a cherished colleague of her early days in the Kentucky
mountains. In all who served her, in the occasional neighbor
who was allowed to see her, she recognized, with her whimsical f

  FRONTIER Nunsmc smzvrcm 11
{ smile, the ties of Auld Lang Syne. With all of this to hearten
  her, she responded by a last effort to pull through. Such was
I her improvement, sitting up every day, taking a few steps, that I
felt free to keep my January engagements beyond the moun-
s tains. Until just before my return home the messages I got
‘ about Mac were still encouraging. The change came just before
  I got back. No one needed to tell me. As soon as I approached
.* her I knew that she was dying, even though she had yet a few
_1 days to live. But the look she gave me had the old friendship
ll in it, the old trust that she and I would see the thing through
_1 together.
` Mac was far too good a nurse, far too experienced, not to
know from the time of her heart attack that the chances of her
pulling through were slim indeed. But she was also far too
loyal a colleague not to respond, to the extent of her failing
powers, to the efforts her friends made in her behalf. When
Y·  Doctor Kavanaugh motored up from Lexington to see her she
 E greeted him with a smile and a clasp of the hand. When Ena
came the old affection went out to her from Mac’s eyes. They
. turned from her to the picture of Roag House, as though she
I would have Ena know that her presence tied the end in with
  the beginning.
During the days when Mac lay dying, she seemed to be in
, touch with the world that lies beyond death and impinges upon
this mortal world where we are living now. Often when Betty
Lester bent over her she would say, "Sophy," as though it were
her sister Sophia with whom she had been speaking. Mac had
the gift that Highlanders call "second sight." She was "fey,"
- and therefore not wholly alien to the world beyond death.
  It was not until nine on the evening of Friday, February 6,
' that Mac died. But during the long hours of the day while she
lay unconscious, I knew that my voice and my touch penetrated
if through the earthy layers to her consciousness. She made me
` aware of it. Whenever my glance fell on her desk, I was hum-
bled anew that I had been vouchsafed so loyal a friend. Over
-  ` the desk she had hung but two pictures—Winston Churchill’s
and mine.
When Mac’s spirit crossed the last barriers that held her
T back, it was as though the dimly lighted room shone with a

 · {
' l
radiance of pure love. She was enveloped in it. And then "all _‘
the trumpets sounded on the other side." I  
Those to whom Mac was dear, and they are many, scattered ;
all over this planet, will want to know something of the last f
rites that were held for her on Monday, February 9. The serv- i
ices were conducted in the Presbyterian Church at Hyden by  
the Reverend Benton P. Deaton, an old friend of Mac’s and ours, il
- who read parts of the Burial of the Dead in the Book of Com- 2
mon Prayer of the Protestant Episcopal Church. Mrs. den Dulk i
played the organ. The choir, a group of our nurses and graduate  
students in the uniform of the Frontier Nursing Service, sang ,
the two hymns that Ena and I had chosen. The iirst, with its l
proper tune of Serenity, was that by Whittier which begins:
Immortal Love, for ever full,
For ever flowing free, ,
For ever shared, for ever whole,  
A never-ebbing sea! '
The second hymn, sung just before the closing prayer and bene-
diction, was the one we in the Frontier Nursing Service think
of as our own, "Now Thank We All Our God." Friends, so many i
friends, from the vast FNS territory, from Hazard and from be-
yond the mountains, attended the services for Mac. From among  {
the older men she greatly honored were chosen the honorary pall
bearers. The pall bearers were chosen from among younger men, I
including employees of the FNS, and some of those dear neigh-
bors at Wendover who had spent two days in digging a rocky g
grave. ;
Mac’s body, with snowdrops from Wendover laid in her A
hands, was carried to our own cemetery plot in the Wendover
boundaries overlooking the river which flows through them.  
It was laid to rest beside that of Bucket which we had buried
four years earlier. Before it was lowered, Mr. Deaton read the pg
Committal Service from the Book of Common Prayer.  
The austere beauty of a service which honors God only, Q
and not His creatures of a day———read in the wintry forest-  
completed the dedication of Mac’s mortal life. In the loftiest  _
symbolism that words can express, it accepted her into the life I
of the world to come. ‘

· I Now we have done. Those who knew Mac, loved her. But
I the heart of Mac is incommunicable—that compassionate, brave,
A gay heart that beat until it broke in response to the needs of
I this piteous world. Even after death the earthly organ, now
Y given to science and research, will be of use to that humanity
  for which it beat. But Mac'? The divine Heart that created her,
 I has called back His own. ,
I It is not only of myself that I am thinking when I say
I good-bye to Mac in the words of Scotland’s greatest poet:
 1 The bridegroom may forget the bride
, _ Was made his wedded wife yestreen;
I The monarch may forget the crown
That on his head an hour hae been;
The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
., But I’ll remember thee, Glencairn,
 ‘ And a’ that thou hast done for me!
We have appreciated more deeply than we can ever express
the telegrams, cables, and letters that have come to us since
I Mac’s death—and are still coming. Although we knew what she
g had meant to you, it comforts us to have you let us know that ·
` you share our grief and our great loss.
`I It is the high privilege of different ones among us to write
Q each one of you. This message is to tell you that this will be
done, even though so many of you have told us that you did
4 not expect to hear.
 [ M. B.
I .

by i
On a cold frosty night in November I was awakened by an §
urgent "Hello, Hello." I thought to myself, Susie at last. It {
wasn’t Susie at all, but Lena. "Why, Sam I thought Lena was I
still in hospital." Sam replied, "But I’ve fotched her thar’ and  
back three times, and I says to Lena, I ain’t goin’ to fotch you (
thar’ no more—so that’s why I come for you’uns." While getting Q
my things together, I pondered on how I would get Lena off the I
hill where she lived, on such a night. I knew that she had been
hospitalized on several occasions because of slight bleeding, {
and that it was not really her time for delivery. “
Lil (courier) and I got started in faithful old Bounce who
groaned and creaked and the windshield quickly frosted over  I
and the brakes froze. He took us as far as wecould go on the  )
road, then with Sam leading the way, Lil and I following in
Indian fashion, we started up the hillside., As we filed along, Sam i
informed me that Lena "ain’t living at our house no more, but  
up at the house back of us." I was puzzled, "Sam, I did not  
know there was a house back of you." Sam replied, "Well, h’its  ,
what used to be a smoke house." We trudged on, slipping and ,
sliding and clutching at branches of trees as we crossed the
only footlog over a rushing stream, on up the hill to the smoke
Never in my life before have I ever seen a smoke house so
full (but not of meat). There was a bed, a small pot-bellied 3
stove in the west corner, a cook stove in the east and a bureau of
drawers to the north. I borrowed a straight back chair from
Sam and tried to wedge it in, but alas the two left legs hung t
out of the door, so I gave up and put my bags on the bureau
where there was already a coal oil lamp (without chimney), a  
radio and various pots and pans. As I took my bearings, I [
realized the temperature of the room must have been near zero, Q
so I asked Lil to start a fire in the pot-bellied stove while I
assembled my supplies. I gathered together quilts to be warmed
and ascertained the condition of my patient. In no time there ‘
was a good fire going so I took my vigil in the east corner while · i
¤ ;
*4 F
( I

Fnonrrma mmsxmc snnvxcn is
i. - ` I    ,  
      . .        
    T ,    
 2  ‘ *  i  ,i· :Y * ~ <;. ‘?  A/AA¤; °   `·
Qi/1 29 l l · j-·   .v¤¢:‘      ?5*  `
ll ,
Lil warmed quilts in the west and threw them to me when they
were good and warm. There was no danger of getting knocked
, down as I was well propped on all sides!
As the wind whistled through the cracks and the lamp
iiame leaped backward and forward, I smelled something
scorching. The newspapers on the wall were beginning to
turn a rich brown. Through the only window I saw large
p sparks falling, so Lil started fire watching, darting in and
out to see if the roof had caught. For a little while we were
less vigorous about having a big fire in the stove. By this
time my patient was warm, so we took up our vigil wedged
‘ between the bureau, the stoves and the bed. No sentry
ever stood strai