A DEATH IN THE FAMILY

Last Friday evening, February 27th, Anita and I joined my nephew John Hydock and his wife Norma for dinner at Gene’s Place, a restaurant at Kamm’s Corners. They were taking my sister Dorma to dinner and asked Anita and me to join them. We were delighted to be with them and pleased that Jim Gannon, another nephew, and his partner Ken Chepeus were also at the table.

I was seated next to John Hydock, so he and I were able to converse rather quietly that Friday night when the restaurant was packed because of a fish fry special.

I happened to mention to John that my sister Arlene Gannon, Jim’s mother, would be celebrating her 86th birthday on March 1 had she not died at age 29. Her husband Jack and five small children, Jack, Jim, Mary Kay, and twins Arleen and Eileen survived her.

John asked me why Arlene died in a hospital in Philadelphia rather than one in Cleveland. I told John that as a child she had contracted rheumatic fever, which eventually caused a severe heart condition. After she gave birth to the twins, she became very weak. A visit to Doctors Kay and Zimmerman, two renowned pioneer heart specialists at Saint Vincent Charity Hospital here in Cleveland, confirmed that her aortic valve had been damaged beyond repair.

Transplant surgery was in its infancy at that time, but Kay and Zimmerman told Arlene and her husband Jack that they would not operate on her because it would be too dangerous.

Not the type who would accept that diagnosis, Arlene began to do some research on her own. She read in a current issue of Time magazine that a Dr. Charles Philamore Bailey at Hahnemann Hospital in Philadelphia was getting rave reviews for his pioneering work in heart surgery.

Arlene and Jack traveled to Philadelphia and after an interview with Bailey he agreed to do the surgery. But first he wanted her to stay at Hahnemann for a month and build herself up for the surgery. Arlene agreed to do this.

About ten days after the initial interview, however, Bailey informed my sister and her husband that he would perform the operation the following week. So Jack, my parents and I made a hurried trip to Philadelphia. The nurses and aides were upbeat about the surgery. So was Bailey.

At the time I was an assistant pastor at Saint Mary Church in Elyria. I asked Bailey if I should remain with Arlene after the surgery for a few days and get a substitute for Sunday Mass. He said it would be all right to leave and keep my obligation to the parish. I followed his advice because Arlene seemed to come through the operation very successfully. All of us were upbeat about her progress.

On the Sunday after the surgery, my father packed his suitcase and went to the hospital to say goodbye to Arlene. My mother and Jack planned to stay in Philadelphia. On the hospital elevator he recognized one of the doctors on the team that operated on Arlene and thanked him for his work.

“Mr. Eppley,” the doctor said, “I notice that you have a suitcase. Where are you going?”

“I’m driving back to Cleveland because I have an important business meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Please don’t do that,” the doctor said. “Stay here because your daughter Arlene is going to die this afternoon.”

One would think that the great Dr. Charles Bailey would have delivered this news, but obviously he did not want to talk about his failures.

My father immediately called me with the news. I called the airlines and made reservations for my two sisters and myself. About an hour later my father called and told me to cancel the airline tickets because Arlene had just died. It was the saddest day of our lives.

I presided at her funeral Mass at Our Lady of the Angels Church on Thanksgiving Day of 1952 and her burial at Holy Cross Cemetery.

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