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WORKING
AT FAIRFIELD HILLS HOSPITAL
IN NEWTOWN,
CONNECTICUT.
Jerry
Haffke Remembers:
Part
XIV
Working in
Greenwich-House
Spring 1967
As part of our
training we were assigned to various buildings for practical work
training. I was assigned to work from seven a.m. to noon at
Greenwich House 1A. Having worked in the linen-room, located in the
Greenwich House basement, in 1963 and having delivered linen to it's
four wards, I was happy to have been sent to a familiar building to
work with people whom I remembered well and liked a lot.
Working in Greenwich House could either make you or break you. It was
very intense and heavy physical labor plus mentally stressful and
exhausting. On 1A were about 60 mostly total care geriatrics
patients. I don't know if the number is correct, but this is my best
estimate. There were about eight employees, from nurse-ward-charge
to psychiatric-aides, taken care of these acutely ill, mostly
bed-ridden patients. Besides taking care of the medical and physical
needs of the patients, employees had to also do all the
"housekeeping", which meant sweeping and mopping this huge ward,
dusting and washing the walls and cleaning the toilets.
There was no housekeeping staff, except one housekeeper who worked
off the wards in the two center hallways which, on the first floor
contained the physician offices of Drs. Friedman and Kyle. Dr. Kyle
was strictly the employee's doctor where one could go, without cost,
and see him with colds and other afflictions and get prescriptions
from him which would be filled at no cost at the pharmacy located in
the Yale-laboratory building which also was the morgue.
Next to Dr. Kyle's office on the first floor was the Supervisor's office,
right next to the entrance to the IA ward. The day shift supervisor
who was also the head-supervisor for all shifts, was Polly Burns
R.N., who retired in 1970 to Myrtle Beach, in the Carolina's. She was
a short, stout woman with lots of personality and drive who would do
her utmost best to help her Greenwich House crews when needed or
asked.
The 1A day-shift crew consisted of Betty (Zilinsky?) the R.N. ward-charge (I can't
remember her last name for certain), Louis Murad, who was a
psychiatric aide IV (ward-charge who also worked a part-time job at
the Grandway store on Main Street in Danbury), Jimmy Reed (a
friend, who would save my life), E.T. Riley, (a
very sophisticated and well-read older black man whom I liked very
much and whom I helped, in 1970, to move to a Bridgeport hotel to
retire there), Dorothy "Dotty" Harper (a beautiful black woman
around my own age), Dover Seawright (a black man
who also worked an evening shift at St. Vincent's Hospital in
Bridgeport), Reddick Wilson (a large black man), Johnny Stevens (a black man), Al Liggins (a black man), an older lady from
Argentina, who's name has slipped my memory and
George Poppleton (an older man who retired in
1969?)..... This was the core group of employees on the Greenwich
House 1A day-shift. There are probably others whom I don't remember
at this time, but these people whom I listed, were indeed very
special employees at FHH.
The work at Greenwich 1A and 1B was so
hard, that even Mrs. Adams, the director of nursing, as strict as
she was regarding the dress code, allowed workers on those two wings
to wear "Johnny-coats" while working....
What stands out
most in my memory of working on Greenwich 1A was the morning
coffee-break in the break-room (which also served as a locker-room
for employees).--It was an oasis of peace and great fellowship after
working and sweating for three hours with the most challenging
physically and mentally ill patients imaginable.
The employee assigned to do housekeeping for the day, was also the
one who set-up the break-room. And "set-up" it was! There was a
clean white table-cloth (actually bed-sheets) spread over two tables
put together and a large "industrial" metal coffee-maker just
finishing it's last perking sounds... It almost always seemed to me
like walking as a child into a set-up Christmas room...with the tree
just lit for the first time and all the gifts displayed under the
tree...
Well, this might be exaggerated, but is the only way for me to
describe how it felt to walk into this break-room after three hours
of hard work, of lifting and tugging, being hit in the face and
seeing bed-sores open to the hip-bones.... after changing patients
covered with urine and feces and cleaning off fecal matter from
bed-rails, walls and floors and lugging huge oxygen tanks fro the
storage area to the bedsides.
Yes, in Greenwich House any break was more than well-deserved!
With the wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoning, we all
sat around the two tables put together. Most of the time somebody,
coming from Bridgeport had brought some baked goods to be shared by
all and most of us smoked our cigarettes while enjoying the fresh
coffee... Mr. Riley usually smoked his pipe and the aroma of the
tobacco mixed with the smell of coffee and baked goods, while
talking about world-politics and related matters. There was always a
good-natured atmosphere in this tightly-knit group and even an
outsider like me at the time, could feel the good "vibes" amongst
those special people. Needless to say, I loved that group and wanted
nothing more than to be eventually assigned to this ward.
The workload
was brutal, as I already mentioned, but with the right people, in a
harmonious working-environment, it became a challenge to contribute
to one's best abilities to become a valuable part of this group.
There were endless seeming bed-baths and constant changing of
incontinent patients. Some had to be lifted out of bed and sat in a
chair for a couple hours. Medical treatments of sores and other
problems were done during three "rounds". Then there were
oxygen-tent set-ups and tank changes and there were no small tanks
in those days, but only the huge and heavy large one's, which had to
be wheeled in and out on carts. Also there were lots of catheters to
change and urine bottles to be emptied. Colostomy bags had to be
washed out and re-attached or replaced entirely. Patients climbing
out of beds had to be temporarily restrained for their own safety...
The floors had to be swept, mopped and buffed and the walls kept
clean. Lunch had to be ladled from the delivered food-trucks unto
metal trays (exactly like the metal trays in the army) and spoon-fed
to most patients....which was a very time-consuming affair in itself
and after that, the metal trays which remained on the ward, had to
be washed in an "industrial" dishwasher and the food-truck
containers rinsed with hot water, put back onto the truck and sent
back to the main kitchen in Bridgeport Hall. The food itself was
plentiful and kept as a soft diet for this ward. There was usually
also a mashed vegetable, applesauce and a piece of cake which we had
to usually soak in coffee to feed to our patients. Also lunch-time
on the ward coincided with lunch-time for employees at Bridgeport
Hall, so we had to split up in two groups to go to first and second
lunch. This meant that there was only half the staff present to do
the feeding of patients.... a task that only a completely
harmonious, disciplined and dedicated group of employees could
accomplish.
Of course I had no
trouble fitting in with this group. Most of them had worked there in
1963 and remembered me well. Being an easy-going personality who
enjoyed hard physical labor, I had earned their acceptance and
friendship after my first day of working there as a trainee. Working
in other buildings and wards could sometimes be boring, but that
certainly was never even a possibility on Greenwich 1A.
Quite a few
employees considered being assigned to Greenwich House, especially
the two first floor wards, as punishment and dreaded even the
thought of it. I loved it so much that I begged the ward charge
nurse, Betty, to put in a good word for me so that I would be
assigned to 1A after finishing my training. Also Louis Murad, the
assistant ward charge, promised that he would try to help me in that
respect. Being well liked and respected by my co-workers there was
to me a great honor. They liked me and I liked them and eventually I
would end up on Greenwich 1A, on the evening "relief" shift though
and that would only come about after some struggle....of which I
shall write later. Perhaps I could have called Mrs. Adams and
directly asked for this assignment, but I simply couldn't get myself
to do that. I wanted no special favors and didn't like that kind of
manipulation.
I don't quite
remember how long my training work-assignment on Greenwich 1A
lasted. Perhaps it was about one month. After that I went to Cochran
House and Kent House for further training. It should be pointed out
here that we only worked part-time in these buildings and spending
the rest of the day, or sometimes entire days, in class.
Thelma and I decide to
get married
May, 1967
Thelma and I were more and more together. I had moved-in with her
but kept my room in the dorm as well. As I mentioned
 before, her
apartment was in a duplex building. The other apartment was rented
by the farmer who farmed the land across the street from the house
and his wife. Their name was something like Kubishek and I used to
rant to Thelma that Poles had been the cause of the second world war
and that they had stolen the land where I was born...
Stupid stuff to say, but I was young and feeling my oats.
Well, this Kubishek and his wife were quite upset with our mixed
interracial "dating" and my having moved in with her. I could tell
by the way they looked at us when we drove up to her apartment and
they happened to be outside. If looks could kill, I would have died
on the spot...
Since Thelma's apartment was an "efficiency" apartment
consisting of a living room, kitchen and bathroom it had very thin
walls between Kubishek's and her apartment and we should have
realized that they could overhear everything we said if they just
made a little effort to do so....-and they did.
Having heard what I said about Poland and the polish people,
they were incensed and came banging on Thelma's door. She opened it
up and this huge farmer came marching in, flushed with anger and
ready to kill. Thelma and I were frozen in fear and anticipation of
the worst possibilities. I was sitting on the sofa a sudden calm had
come over me and everything going on seemed to have shifted into
slow-motion. The danger was real and imminent and yet all fear had
left me. I just looked into his eyes and he stopped in his advance
towards me. He now froze and just stared back into my eyes. He then
turned around and walked back out of the apartment. I still don't
know what happened. Was it the way I looked at him in my state of
frozen calmness? Or was it his own comprehension of how dangerous
this situation had become? I shall never know, but I know that he
could have killed me with one punch from his huge fists. At that
time I only weighed about 130 pounds and he weighed probably over
250 pounds. Perhaps he realized how ridiculous the situation was and
instantly calmed down. To me, it was a miracle and I must admit that
the whole incident was my own fault. I had ridiculed this man and
his heritage, something I would have not wanted to happen to me
either. Was I responsible for what Germany did during the war? Of
course not and neither was Kubishek responsible for what Poland did.
The entire incident was my fault and yet, had he hurt or killed me,
he would be the one arrested and prosecuted. I was ashamed of myself
and would have liked to speak to him, apologize and make things
right between us, but that would be impossible because I knew how he
felt about my relationship with Thelma.
The next
morning when we were ready to leave for work at Fairfield Hills,
Thelma's car had two flat tires. We called Kenny, our class-mate and
friend at Norwalk-Hall and he came and picked us up. After work he
took us with our two flat tires to get them checked and fixed. It
turned out that there was nothing wrong with the tires, just that
somebody had opened the valves...
Kubishek had his revenge. What could we do? There was no proof that
he had done this and even if there had been proof; would I want to
do anything about it? Of course not. We would have to move out in
order to get away from that situation.
One possibility was to move back to the dorm. The other was, to find
another apartment. Looking around at different apartments in
Newtown, Bethel and Danbury, we could find one. Either the rent was
to high, or the apartment was already gone. The situation became
even more urgent when there was another flat-tire incident. Foolish
and impulsive as I was in those days, I told Thelma that we should
get married so that we could live in Watertown Hall.
Watertown Hall was a more modern building located just over the
railroad bridge, on the left hand side as one entered the hospital
grounds. It was built for married couples and single doctors.
Probably built in the late 1940's or early 50's, it was a pretty
nice place to live for a married couple. Before that, married
couples had lived in Stamford-Hall, the dorm diagonally across
Norwalk-Hall. The rooms in Stamford-Hall were much larger than the
rooms in the other dorms and thus better suited for two people to
live in.
The apartments in Watertown-Hall had a living-room, bathroom and
bedroom, but no kitchen. Like all dorms, they were well equipped
with all necessary furnishings and even linens.
With Kubishek's vengeful anger pushing us and the promise of
Watertown-Hall as a solution beckoning us, we decided that getting
married was a great idea. So we went to see Dr. Kyle in
Greenwich-House and told him that we wanted to get married and that
we needed the necessary blood tests done. Stoically he wrote-out the
required slips of paper and sent us to the Yale-Laboratory to get
our blood tested. Getting the results within the next week, I
contacted an attorney in Bridgeport whom I had chosen from the
"yellow pages" and asked him over the phone if he would marry us
since he was also a notary public. Asking me if we had the necessary
blood-test results and two witnesses, I replied: "Yes, no problem".
His name was Mr. Bader and he was a real nice guy. We made an
appointment for our marriage "ceremony" to take place in his office
on Main Street in Bridgeport the next day and that was it...
I had met Thelma's mother and sisters as well as her
grandmother already. Her mother was very intelligent and loved to
talk about esoteric things. We were an instant match, and in
retrospect,--probably a much better match then Thelma and I.
Thelma's sisters, ranging in age from five to seventeen, treated me
very well with the exception of one, I forgot her name, who hated me
because I was white. They lived on Mill Ridge road in Danbury where
Thelma and I visited frequently. Thus her mother knew about the
Kubishek situation and our dilemma. She also knew that we were
deeply in love and it wasn't a big surprise to her when we told her
that we planned to get married in order to live in Watertown-Hall.
When I said that we would get married the next day and asked her if
she would be a witness, she laughingly agreed. The other witness
would be our class-mate Kenny.
We had
asked for the day off from work and classes and Mr. Bouton had given
us the day off. When I heard the reason, that we were getting
married, he was astonished but, in his stoic way, didn't express any
amazement. I could tell that he wasn't very comfortable with the
news but it was only a fleeting impression.
Thelma's mother and Kenny met us at Thelma's apartment and we
took off for Bridgeport in Kenny's "Ambassador".
On our way we stopped at the Trumbull mall to eat lunch at a
pancake-house located where later a "Walden's" book-store would be
and then continued our drive right into Main Street in Bridgeport.
Attorney Bader's office was easily found, located close to the side
street where the court-building was located. We parked the car and
went into his small office. He turned out to be a real nice and
progressive guy who first talked with us about the difficulties our
mixed marriage could create for us and our possible children. Easing
his lecture with words of hope for a better and more tolerant world
which could be ushered in by us as pioneers of a new era. Asking us
then if we were willing and ready to shoulder the responsibilities
and challenges of our commitment to each other... When we answered
yes, he performed the short, standard ceremony and we were married.
After the little ceremony he shook our hands and wished us all the
best for our marriage and future.
So that
was it. Now we just had to get back to Fairfield Hills in time to
get our apartment in Watertown Hall. We were more than anxious to
get away from Kubishek's relentless hatred and acts of revenge. When
we arrived at Fairfield Hills it was probably around three o'clock,
which gave us plenty of time to run up the steps of Newtown-Hall,
the administration building, with our wedding certificate. Upstairs
on the second floor we went into the main office there and told them
that we would like to be living in Watertown-Hall. Handing the lady
there our wedding certificate and our other papers, she called the
house-mother in Watertown-Hall named Peggy and sent us on our way to
see her and get our apartment.
Continue to Page XV
Married and Living in
Watertown-Hall
this page is only in progress
Return to
Part I
Working at Fairfield Hills(State) Hospital - How I came to Fairfield
Hills Hospital - Summation of my
immigration story - Arlington, Virginia and
Washington, DC - Meeting Pete in Danbury, Connecticut - Mrs. Morrell's
Guest House - Working at Danbury Hospital - Hearing
about Fairfield Hills Hospital - Getting a job there - Mrs. Adams
and Mrs. Schwaller - Central Linen Room - A Listing of Former Employees at FHH--People
I Knew and Loved -
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