| 13 February 2010
During my fourth year at RD, in 1967, my son Joshua was born. The great event took place at Northern Westchester Hospital, just up the road from RD Headquarters. Somehow, during the birth procedure, Josh managed to pick up a serious ear infection, which caused him to run a dangerously high temperature. He was moved to pediatric intensive care. (click Read More above)The next day, after many worrisome hours at the hospital, I left my exhausted wife and ailing son and came home to prepare a lonely and anxious supper. As I was eating, the phone rang. It was Wally. He had heard about Josh’s problem (nothing happened at RD without Wally hearing about it) and wanted to know how Josh was doing and whether there was anything he could do to help matters. I explained the situation, as best I could, and promised to keep him informed.
On the following day, Josh’s fever broke and he was moved to the regular nursery. All was well. I called Wally that night to pass on the good news. It was a short conversation, just the facts. Yet to this day I can still hear the tremor that came into his voice when I revealed that Josh would be fine. He cared, he really did, and it made a huge difference....
Now, that’s a good story even if it ends right there. But there’s more. One year later, on Josh’s first birthday, I got another call from Wally. “Just wanted to hear how Josh is doing,” he said. I filled him him. Josh was doing fine. Two years later, on Josh’s second birthday, the phone rang again. Three years later ... well, you get the idea.
In fact, Wally called on my son’s birthday for the first ten years of Josh’s life. I will never forget it.
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