In the '50's my father was as busy as he had ever been, pursuing medical excellence.

He kept marathon medical hours between clinics and practice, regularly working 12 hour days. Winter weekends at Milford during the early '50's provided some quietude, but the summers were the exact opposite.

t was not uncommon—in fact for many years, it was the rule rather than the exception—that on the majority of Milford summer weekends, my father and mother would host between eight and 15 friends or family members.

All of the bedrooms in the main house would be full, and a couple or two would stay in the little house, close to the street. My sister and I would give up our bedrooms and migrate to the upstairs porches or, if they were taken, downstairs to sleep.

Having only one bathroom in the main house slowed the pace at which people would come downstairs. Guests, a couple at a time—usually a husband, first, closely followed by his wife—would start coming down about 7:30 am. It would take until after 10, sometimes, before everyone was downstairs.