Page 132 - Pat's Tavern
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Pat’s Tavern by Thomas J. CraneA Matter Of Deja Vu?The university served as the focal point for not only Woodlawn but the Kenwood and Hyde Park neighborhoods as well. The medical center that was attached to the university was where my sister was born in 1926 and my mother was operated on in 1947. My step-father died of cancer in the same medical center in 1954. Lastly, the same medical center saved my broken arm from amputation in early May of 1939.My first job at the university was helping to provide radiation monitoring for a large atom smashing machine; that is, a cyclotron. The cyclotron was constructed right across the street from where Enrico Fermi had assembled first Nuclear Reactor. After a couple of years, I transferred to the main medical center where I provided radiation protection services and worked in the isotope Pharmacy where I helped to construct solid sources of radiation for implantation in humans as a way of treating cancer. When I completed my college education, I was appointed administrator for the adult clinical and research laboratories. Later on in 1981, I was given the assignment as Manager of the Adult Cardiology Laboratories. My office was the very same room where I was hospitalized as a patient for my broken arm in 1939. I worked in this office for almost 4 years. It was during those times when I worked at night that I would open the window during the Spring weather and relive some of the very same experiences that took place some 22 years before. Just like then, I could smell the sweetness of newly mowed grass on the Midway and the soft Spring air that filtered into my room and that had helped me to escape from the hospital odors and environment along with the pain that I had endured when I was away from my home. To me, it was like a breath from Heaven and I could sense it all over again.One day I looked up and saw a lady that I knew by the name of Louise walking towards my office and when she entered, she said, “This is my last day as I am retiring and collecting a few memories.” I responded by telling her that I had a few memories of my own. I then went on to tell her that whenever I looked out of my window, I could see the steeple of the church that was affiliated with the school that I had once attended as a young boy. She asked me if I knew the Greek delicatessen that was situated on the corner of 65th and Maryland avenue and near the school. When I told her that was the store where my mother would often send me for food and that is where I bought my penny candy. She responded by saying that it was her uncles who owned the store and she worked as the candy girl. She was the young lady who once sold me candy when I132


































































































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