Transcript of interview with Joyce Marshall-Moore by Emily Powers, March 25, 2008

An Interview with Joyce Marshall-Moore An Oral History Conducted by Emily Powers Heart to Heart Oral History Project Oral History Research Center at UNLV University Libraries University of Nevada Las Vegas ©Heart to Heart Oral History Project University of Nevada Las Vegas, 2009 Produced by: The Oral History Research Center at UNLV - University Libraries Directory: Claytee D. White Editor: Gloria Homol Transcriber: Kristin Hicks Interviewers: Emily Powers, Lisa Gioria-Acres, Claytee D. White These recorded interviews and transcripts have been made possible through the generosity of Dr. Harold Boyer and the Boyer Foundation. The Oral History Research Center enabled students and staff to work together with community members to generate this selection of first-person narratives. Participants in the Heart to Heart Oral History Project thank the university for the support given that allowed an idea of researching early health care in Las Vegas the opportunity to flourish. All transcripts received minimal editing that included the elimination of fragments, false starts and repetitions in order to enhance the researcher's understanding of the material. All measures have been taken to preserve the style and language of the narrator. In several cases, photographic images accompany the collection and have been included in the bound edition of the interview. Claytee D. White, Project Director Director, Oral History Research Center University of Nevada Las Vegas - University Libraries iii Table of Contents Family background; recalling road trip to Las Vegas, 1953; mother (Agnes) undergoes nurse's training in Buffalo, New York; two years at Buffalo General Hospital; Agnes joins the army as first lieutenant in Army Nurse Corps; posted to Kennedy General in Memphis, Tennessee; met and married Royce Marshall; moved to Chicago and worked at Ravenswood Hospital; moved to Las Vegas; hired at Southern Nevada Memorial Hospital (SNMH) 1-5 Joyce recalls that Agnes quit SNMH and went to work at Las Vegas Hospital (1956 to 1976); memories of doctors her mother worked with, including Drs. Lund, Allen, Woodbury, Sulvane, and Hardy; anecdotes concerning Dr. Hardy; recalling Dr. Nelson; comparing hospital fees from 1915 to 1963 to present 5-10 Story about Dr. Woodbury; recalling 4-bed wards and babies born with severe handicaps in the 1930's; Agnes' duties as charge nurse at Las Vegas Hospital; mention of the Tarkanians; stories about Senator Wadsworth and other patients Agnes took care of; remembering Agnes' dedication to family and neighborhood 11-15 Life-changing experiences surrounding patients who died; mention of Candlelighters and hospitalized children; story regarding childbirth, heartache, a showgirl, and adoption; mention of abortion and Dr. Clivekin; prostitutes and the hospitals; Agnes' salary in the early 60s; working double shifts and saving money for future travel; whirlwind world tour in 1964; trip to Yugoslavia for Joyce's birthday, 1987; tours of Greece, Israel and Turkey; slowed down by dementia 16-20 More background on Agnes; recalling her adventurous spirit, which took her to Cuba as a young girl; charge nurse at Vegas Valley Convalescent Center ('76 to '90) until memory problems led her to retirement at age 79; noting changes in nursing over the years; comments on the growing role of insurance companies and legal matters in patient care; discussion of changes in Las Vegas since the early 50s; comments on quality of Agnes' care at Las Vegas Convalescent Center after stroke 21-25 iv Preface Joyce Marshall-Moore came to Las Vegas from Chicago in December of 1953. Only eight years old at the time, she clearly remembers the road trip with her father Royce (known as "Mousie"), her mother Agnes, and her two brothers. They left Chicago, where it was snowing, and arrived in Las Vegas on a cold snowy day! Joyce attended school at Sunrise Acres ES until eighth grade and then went to Rancho High School, graduating in 1962. She recalls that her father worked for a time at the El Rancho Vegas and that her mother found work at Southern Nevada Memorial Hospital. Agnes Marshall (nee Rasmussen) took her nurse's training in Buffalo, New York, and then worked at Buffalo General Hospital and Millard Fillmore Hospital. Later she joined the army and was stationed in Memphis, Tennessee, working at Kennedy General Hospital where she met Royce and married him. They moved to Chicago where she found work at Ravenswood Hospital. After their move to Las Vegas, Agnes was hired at Southern Nevada Memorial Hospital. She became disenchanted with nurse-patient interactions at the county hospital and found employment at Las Vegas Hospital. She worked there until 1976 and then was hired at Las Vegas Convalescent Center. Agnes followed her dreams and traveled during this period as well. Agnes worked with Doctors Lund, Allen, Woodbury, Sulvane, and Hardy, among others. Joyce recalls that Dr. Hardy, a cousin and look-alike to Oliver Hardy, was one of her mother's favorites. She shares anecdotes and memories of these and other doctors. Joyce remembers many aspects of her mother's life, including the fact that she took care of neighbors as well as her family and patients. She often worked double shifts and the pay was nominal, but she loved her job because of the relationships with her patients. Agnes passed away in 2006 at the ripe old age of 91. v 1 Good afternoon. It is March 25th, 2008. And I'm here in the library with Joyce Marshall-Moore. [Interview conducted by Emily Powers.] How are you doing today? Great. Great. Thanks for joining us. Could you start off by telling us where you were born? I was born in Chicago, Illinois. And we moved to Las Vegas in 1953, almost 1954 because it was Christmas, so that my father could do what he did anyway but legally. And what was that? He was in the casino business. And what did he do in the casino business? Here in Las Vegas he did everything from dealing to being on the floor. And I'm assuming, although we don't know, that he was dealing in Chicago. We know he worked in a casino in Chicago. What are your parents' names? My dad's name was Royce and my mother's name was Agnes Rasmussen, R-a-s-m-u-s-s-e-n. My dad - no one ever knew him by Royce. They all called him "Mousy" or "The Mouse." How did he get that nickname? He was part of a syndicate, part of a group of men that came out here. And they all had those stupid, ridiculous names. And it had to do with something that he did I guess. They called him the mouse. And so you said you moved here in 1953. Did you have siblings? I have two brothers. I have one brother who works at the Venetian. He's on the floor. And my other brother, who is six years younger than I am, we don't know where he is. He's here somewhere. I haven't talked to him in a while. And what are their names? Royce. My older brother's a junior. And Steven. And how old were you when you moved to Las Vegas? I was eight. Do you remember it very well, the trip out here? 2 Oh, absolutely. I remember everything about it. I remember the trip as being - my dad was a maniac on the road. If you had to go to the bathroom, too bad. We were supposed to take our time and see the sights and that pretty much didn't happen. We got here. It was miserable. We left Chicago. It was snowing. My dad said, well, say goodbye to the snow, kids; you'll never see it again. And it was snowing the day we got here. And it was cold and sleety and ugly. My mother thought that she'd been dropped off at the end of the Earth. She was born and raised in Buffalo, then married my dad and went to Chicago. And then we came here to Las Vegas, population 50,000, probably less than that. And it was a desert. She had never seen the desert and she hated it. That must have been a big change. It was. Yes. What were your first impressions of Las Vegas? Well, you know, we were just kids. I just hated to leave Chicago. I hated to leave my friends and my school. But other than that, it was an adventure. Where did you go to school in Las Vegas? When we got here we stayed in the Robby Motor Lodge, which was on Fifth Street, now Las Vegas Boulevard. There wasn't a lot of housing. And so we stayed there for a couple of weeks until we could find a house. I went to Fifth Street School right across the street. It was right there where the federal building is. So I went there. And then when we bought our house, which was out on the southeast side of town right where they were building the Showboat Hotel, I went to Sunrise Acres grade school. And there was no junior high or middle school. I graduated from the eighth grade and then went to Rancho High School in the ninth grade. My mom went to Rancho. What year did you graduate? Oh, before her. I graduated in '62. Not too long before. Yeah, she went to Rancho. As an aside, we just had our 45th reunion and we all went there to see the school. It just blows you away. It's such an awesome facility. It's a magnet school. They have pilots in medical field. Just in their flight school - they have 350 kids that they can take - they have over a thousand applicants every year. So it's pretty amazing. 3 They're getting good students. That's great. Yeah, they are. So to go back to your parents, you said your dad worked in the hotels. Where did he work when he first arrived? Well, the first job he had was at the El Rancho Vegas. And I remember that when we came out here, we drove a Ford that somebody had purchased back east and they had moved to Los Angeles. And so we drove their car out here. So when we got here we didn't even have a car. And the man came up from Los Angeles and then he drove his car back from Las Vegas to there. So it turns out that on our way out here, the man that told my dad to come out had died of a heart attack. So we got here and we didn't know anybody. In the 1950s, it was all about who you knew. If you didn't know somebody, you couldn't get a job. So my dad was just kind of in a pickle. And I remember one day we were walking down Fremont Street and my dad screamed, hey, Itchy, which we came to know as Uncle Itchy. And he just said, hey, Mouse. And they, you know, big hugs. And the next day my dad was at work. So it was just a whole different place and he didn't know where to go and who he was supposed to talk to. But the next day he went to work. So it all worked out. Well, that's good. And the reason we're talking today for the history in health care project is because of your mother. When she first arrived to Las Vegas, had she already practiced as a nurse in Chicago? My mother went into nurses training in Buffalo, New York. There were 105 girls in her class when they started. Totally different then. We're talking about the 30s. The nurses actually lived in the hospital. They had like dorm rooms. And they would go to school for eight hours, work for eight hours, and then try to study and sleep. And they did that like six days a week. And my mother didn't know what to do. Her mother had passed away, and she needed someplace to stay and she needed a career. So she told me that after about the first semester, they called her in the office and told her that she should quit because she didn't have the stomach for it and, you know, she was never going to make it. And my mother said that was the best thing they could have done for her because she said, ah, you know, I'm going to show you. And so she graduated from school. She worked at the Buffalo General Hospital. And she 4 worked in the tuberculosis ward. And she worked down there for two years and she never got TB. I got it when I was nine years old, but that's weird. She never got it. So after she got out of training, she went to work at the Millard Fillmore Hospital there in Buffalo. And she was going with a doctor and they were going to get married. His name was Abe Weinstein. And his parents came to her and said, "If you marry my son — he is our only child ~ we will bury him and he will be dead to us," because they were Jews. And so my mother didn't know what to do. She decided she couldn't do that to these people, so she joined the army. She said I was just walking down the street. And there was a big sign there that said Uncle Sam wants you. And she said I walked in and I joined the army. She always wanted to be in the navy. So she said she didn't know why she joined the army, but she did. So she went in the army. And she went through training. She went in as a first lieutenant in the women's army in nurse corps. She went through their basic training and then was stationed in Memphis, Tennessee, working at the Kennedy General in Memphis. And that's where she met my father. My father had been injured. He had part of his stomach ~ shrapnel in his stomach. And he was on her ward. And she really had no interest in him, but he made up his mind he wasn't letting go. So they got married. And then she got pregnant right away with me. They were still in the service and at that time you couldn't be pregnant and be in the service. So she got discharged and my dad got discharged shortly after that. They went to Chicago and she worked at the Ravenswood Hospital in Chicago. My mother always worked. She loved nursing. And so when we came out here, she immediately went to work at the county hospital, Memorial. And she really, really hated it. She wasn't used to the way they did business. And it probably comes from her working in big cities and big hospitals. She didn't understand the politics of what was going on and she didn't like the atmosphere and she didn't like the way they -- she didn't like anything about it, nothing. So she started looking around. And she found the Las Vegas Hospital on ~ So she started at Memorial when you got here in '53. She started at Memorial in '54, actually. And what do you think specifically were some of the things about the way they did business 5 that she didn't quite like compared to other places? She didn't feel the nurses treated the patients very well. My mother's a real personable kind of ~ you know, wants to hug you and talk to you one on one — and there was really no time for that. They were short-staffed. She didn't care for the way the nurses talked to the patients. She didn't care for the nurses, period. She said they were very cold and not friendly. Do you know how many members were on the staff around that time when she first arrived? No idea. Whatever it was, she says it wasn't enough. And I know there were very few doctors, too, to go around for all the patients. Right. I wondered, too, because it was a county hospital, if that had anything to do with it. According to my mother it had a lot to do with the way people were treated. My mother was always for the underdog, you know. You say your glass is half empty or half full. Hers was always half full. And so she was like the champion of the underdog. And for these people not to be treated the way she thought they should be treated, that's one of the things that just ~ And she quit there and went to work at the Las Vegas Hospital, which was a privately owned hospital, owned by its doctors, and it was a family and she loved that. People were treated well. The patients got a lot of personal attention. And she had time to give them personal attention. The doctors were friendly. They really relied on their nurses. And she went to work there in 1956 and worked there until 1976 when they closed. Wow. Twenty years, that's quite a long time. Do you remember her telling you stories about some of the doctors that she worked with? Oh, yeah. Tell us more. I can tell you myself. The doctors that were there that I remember - Dr. Lund was the pediatrician, not a very good one. I hate to - I'm sure he was. But, you know, he treated my daughter for mumps for a month and she finally went into a coma because she had diabetes. So he totally missed that. So I have some bitter feelings about him. But, you know, you can talk to other people that think that Dr. Lund walked on water. There was a nose and throat doctor. Oh, eye, ears, nose and throat. He was all of them, 6 Dr. Allen. He was a very nice man. He fixed my deviated septum. And I had terrible allergies when we first came here. And he used to irrigate my nose for me and it used to make me feel so much better because my whole face would feel like "bahoom." But, see, in those days because my mom worked there, it was just a little family. My mother could go to Dr. Allen and say, oh, you know, Joyce is having trouble with her allergies. Oh, bring her in, Ag. And I would just go in. Then there was Dr. Woodbury. Dr. Woodbury was one of the original owners with Dr. McDaniel and I'm not sure who else. My mother wasn't fond of Woodbury. I hate to — you know, these are just stories that she told me. He did a lot of entertaining after hours in the hospital. She didn't think that was good. You know, he had the showgirl clientele and they had him. And then there was Dr. Sulvane. Dr. Sulvane worked I think until he was like 90 years old. He just passed away probably five years ago and practiced forever. The thing I remember about Dr. Sulvane is that he always had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, always. And when you would go in as his patient and sit down, he would come in with his cigarette, always. I went in one time because I needed a physical for camp. And I remember him saying, honey, come in. And he's got his cigarette. How do you feel? I said I feel great. So he took my blood pressure I guess and, you know, looked down my throat. And he said, okay, you're good to go. And he signed my papers. Sounds so casual. It was. Dr. Hardy was a distant relative, a cousin, to Oliver Hardy of the Laurel and Hardy comedy team. And he looked just like him. You know, we thought they were twins, forget cousins. We thought they were twins because they looked exactly alike. Dr. Hardy was one of my mom's favorites. When they were building the Showboat Hotel -- they were building the bowling alley onto the Showboat Hotel. This was probably '56 or '57. My little brother got out there and was climbing on the lumber and fell and just gashed his leg open. And we did not have a car. My mother, coming from Chicago and Buffalo, never learned to drive and my dad was never around. So my mother called a taxicab, which was really odd for my mom because she was very frugal, 7 and rushed him down to the hospital. And I remember Dr. Hardy sewed him up. And I went with her. I couldn't watch because, oh, they were sticking needles in him. Then Dr. Hardy said, well, Agnes, how are you getting home? And she said, well, I guess we can take the bus. He said oh, don't do that. I'll drive you home. He had this great big Cadillac and I remember sitting in the back seat. My brother was hanging out the window as we came around the corner and he was screaming at all his friends so they could see him in this Cadillac. That's a great story. But Dr. Hardy loved his milk shakes, pretty much lived on them. He also loved to gamble. He was a poker player. And he would go to the Horseshoe or somewhere downtown, wherever it was. And he would be there in the evening and he'd be there most of the night. And he would call my mother. My mother always worked the graveyard shift. That's what she loved. And he would always call her and say, well, what's going on, Ag? And my mother would tell him, well, this is happening, this is happening. Or if there was a problem, she would call him and say, well, this person's heart is racing or whatever the question. And he would say, well, what do you think we should do? Well, go ahead and do it. And she pretty much was the doctor, as were the other nurses. The doctors were very — probably not so at county. But at the Las Vegas Hospital they were pretty liberal with what they let their nurses do. I've heard that talking to some of the nurses. They had a lot of responsibilities. Yeah. And so she loved Dr. Hardy. The doctor that I went to was Nelson. My mother wanted me to go to him because --1 had my first child when I was 18. He was young and very good-looking. Do you have any idea what that was like? Before I got married my mother sent me to Dr. Nelson for a checkup. I wanted to die. Here is this tall, dark and handsome doctor giving me a pelvic. I mean and I just - oh, it was the most mortifying day of my entire life. I've never forgotten it, never. Anyway, she wanted me to go to him, though, because he was up on all the newest techniques. And she was all about that. One of her biggest complaints was that she felt the nurses kept up so much better than the doctors as far as what to do. Maybe they were stuck in their ways with doing certain things. Right. Even though they went to classes ~ well, we've always done it this way; I'm not changing. 8 Whereas my mother would think that, well, I think you should do it this way. It's just like C-sections when they used to just cut down here. And then when they started doing the little bikini cut, some of the older doctors were hard pressed to go to that because it was a new technique that they weren't familiar with. So they wanted to just — so that's why I went to Nelson. Dr. Nelson stayed there until ~ actually, the last baby he delivered was my daughter Jennifer, who is now 41. She was 41 yesterday. He left, went back to Arkansas, became an ophthalmologist, and did eye surgeries. Then he came back to Las Vegas and lived here. He retired probably ten years ago, and as far as I know, he's still here. We actually just talked to him recently. I got ahold of him and he just moved to Utah I think. Oh, did he? Yeah. So we're going to drive out to Utah and try to get an interview with him. But he was really excited to be a part of the project. So that'll be great. Well, you be sure to mention Agnes Rasmussen because he will remember her. Absolutely. Yes. And he will remember -- he might remember me because of my kids. His wife - of course, now his ex-wife ~ was having her last daughter the same time I had my first daughter. My daughter Dina and his daughter, whose name I can't remember, were friends. And they met each other. We were in the hospital together having our babies. And then later on ~ I think Dina was probably married when she and her husband met - I can't remember her name. Isn't that terrible? Well, it's not really. I mean she was my daughter's friend. But I want to say ~ I think Maryanne her name is. When Dina met Maryanne and they got to talking and said, oh, Dr. Nelson, yeah, he delivered me. Oh, that's my dad. Oh, wow. Small town. Yeah. Well, we'll have to let you know what he says. Yeah, let us know. You can tell him that my mom lived to the ripe old age of 91. She passed away in October of 2006. Yes, I will be sure to mention that to him. 9 And she always talked of him in glowing terms. Oh, he was so handsome she'd always say. I haven't seen any pictures of him yet. Well, when you see pictures — I don't know what he looks like now. The kids were in high school I think the last time I saw him. So that's been 25 years ago. But we were skiing up at Brian Head and he was up there. And we were on the same ski lift. And that's the last time I saw him. Were most of the doctors married at the time? Yes, they were. I know that Dr. Hardy had sons, two of them that were attorneys. Dr. Allen was kind of an old guy. So I don't really know. Of course, we know Dr. Woodbury. He has quite a legacy. I think they were all married. And most of the nurses were, as well? Yeah. Well, not really. I think that the nurses that my mother worked -- Vem Hodson, she was not married. And some of them were. It was probably about 50-50. She didn't work with a lot of people. They had a kitchen downstairs. And they did all the cooking for the patients. And I remember the woman that worked in there. She was something. Every time I would come into the hospital, she'd call up and say, what do you want? What do you want to eat because I'm cooking for you? She would do that to a lot of the return patients. She would remember them and she would send up what they liked to eat. That's great personal care. Yeah. It was only a 40-bed hospital. So the one thing that I remember that Mother told me is because it was a private hospital people would come in the middle of the night. And the doors were locked. And they would ring the bell. And Mother said sometimes I'd go down there and there would be a woman in labor. And I'd say whose patient are you? And she would give a name. Maybe she'd say Dr. Nelson or Dr. Hardy. And she'd say what is your name? And my mother would go and look up the paperwork. If there was no paperwork for this person, she would not open the door because they were not allowed to do that because people didn't have insurance then and they didn't have a doctor. And so once you had let them in the hospital, you were liable to take care of them. So they kept the doors locked. And my mother said one night this woman came and she threw herself on the floor and she was bearing down and screaming. And my mother said I'm sorry; you're going to have to go to county. And the husband - and 10 Mother said she was really afraid because she thought there was a possibility that the woman was really going to give birth there on the porch. She turned around and started to walk away. And when she turned to go to the counter, the woman got up and she and her husband left. They walked away. So she was okay. Yeah. And they did that a lot because there was no way to really collect. When you think about the fact there were no computers ~ and I know. I worked at the credit bureau. When I was in high school, I put out something called The Credit Bulletin once a week. It came out on Friday. And it would give all the pertinent information about who bought or sold a house and who had their power turned on and who bought a car, who had a baby, who died, that kind of stuff. And they didn't print births in the paper a lot during those days. Sometimes they did. So I knew how long it took to find out if somebody hadn't paid their bill or was behind on their house payment or they had a house foreclosed on. Sometimes it was months and months. So it just wasn't like today. Were medical costs as expensive back in the day? Do you know if it was as hard for people to pay? Well, I can tell you that when I had my oldest daughter Dina, I went in the hospital in the afternoon. I was there for three days. And my total cost for the nursery and her was $263. Of course, that's 1963. My mother has her bill. I still have the bill from when my mother was bom in Buffalo, New York, at Saint Mary's Maternity Hospital. Her mother was there for ten days and the total bill was $28. 1915. So quite a difference. So in retrospect, let me think. It was $263. My house payment was 105. So, yeah, I think that they've gotten exorbitant even if you figure that out like what I paid for my house payment now. Of course, they ship you in and out in one day. In those days you were there three days for a regular delivery, five days for a C-section. And now it's overnight if they can get away with it. Do you know what most of the patients came to that hospital for, what the most common cases were? Basically a little bit of everything. They had an operating room. They did do surgery. My mother tells a great story about Dr. Woodbury. He did an appendectomy on this woman and he left a 11 sponge in her. And she was in agonizing pain for months. She finally came back and he opened her up. And, of course, he found the sponge and took it out. You know, he told her she had some little infection, but he cleared it all up and she was going to be great. And she loved him till the day she died. They had a ward. I don't think they did. But in the men's they had a seven-bed ward. Private rooms were not common. Four-bed wards were the norm. When I had my kids, I was always in a four-bed ward where the rooms faced each other. There was a delivery room — I mean there was a labor room. And hopefully — I remember when I had my second daughter somebody else was in labor with me. And they had to put her in a regular room because they only had one labor room. I don't know what the difference was, really, except that it was right next to the nursery. They had isolates. If they had real serious problems, they would send them to county or sometimes to California. They would send them to Los Angeles. Do you know for what reasons they might not be able to handle something at a Vegas hospital? You know, I don't know. There were babies bom with like spina bifida and things like that. I can remember one baby being bom with spina bifida. And they really ~ you know, in the earlier days when Mother first started nursing, they would take a baby that was bom like that and they would make them comfortable and put them in an isolate and they wouldn't feed them because there was no way for them to survive. They were going to die and it was going to be painful and it was going to be a drain on the parents. Nothing they would do today. But in the 30s, especially during the Depression, that's exactly what they did. They just didn't feed them. Wow. Did your mother specialize in any field as a nurse here? At the Las Vegas Hospital she was the charge nurse. So she did the scheduling. She did all the meds, all the medications. They didn't lock them up, which now, of course ~ and after the Las Vegas Hospital closed in 1976, she went to work at the Vegas Valley Convalescent Hospital, which is over there next to Sunrise. And when people would have surgeries, they would send them there to finish convalescing so it would be less expensive. And I know by the time my mother got there, they were certainly locking up meds. And I'll tell you a great story that my mother told me. She didn't know she was telling me 12 a story, okay. We were sitting there. My mother lived with me from 1971 when my father died until we had to put her in assisted living. Because my daughter came down with diabetes when she was six and my mother being an RN — Gina was very, very sick as a child. And so I was lucky to have her. One night — this is in the 90s now because I was going to school here — I was sitting here watching the news. And it's a picture of ~ first of all, it's Lois Tarkanian, who is running for school board or whatever it is. My mother says, oh, I know her. She was in our hospital a couple weeks ago. And I didn't think anything of it. I said oh. And so then here comes the sports. And my mother says and there's her husband. He was in our hospital, too, at the same time. And I said really, what happened? Were they in an accident? And she said, oh, no. She said he was at one end of the hospital and she was at the other. And we were supposed to tell him that she was having a deviated septum fixed, but she really had a facelift. And we were supposed to tell her that he had stomach problems, but he actually had a penile implant. Really? Is that the best story? Wow. That is amazing. I laughed so hard I couldn't stand it. And my mother, she doesn't have a clue what goes on, you know. So I came to school the next day. And I remember going into Dr. Davenport — no. I went into somebody else. Who did I talk to? Oh, a professor that's no longer here. As a matter of fact, he was working as an assistant provost. And I went up and told him the story. I said I have to tell you this story. I can't stand it. This is what my mother told me last night. And so the next morning I come into school. I was a graduate assistant when this went on. So it was probably '95, '96. I came in about 7:30 in the morning because I think I was TA-ing for Dr. Fry. And he's in the office with Dr. Davenport. And I walked in there and Dr. Davenport says, oh, well, here's Joyce. She'll tell you all about it. It already had fled the -- they say women are gossips. Paul Bums, Dr. Bums was the professor I told. And this was at five o'clock at night. He had to call people at home and tell them this story. But my mother was so cute because she just had no idea what she was telling me. He had a penile implant. I bet she saw all kinds of things working there. She did. When she was working at the convalescent center, she took care of Senator Wadsworth, 13 who was the senator here in t