My Dad’s medical career was stalled somewhat by his service in the Pacific Theatre in WWII. After having spent five years overseas, he was older than some starting physicians. Around 1947, though, he began churning, building an office, making house calls, and working half Saturdays, “by appointment,” as the sign on the back door of our house said. In those days, home offices were not unusual for physicians.

Income was good, and he had a busy practice, but he tended to work for free, and gave free services to anyone who worked in certain jobs that had civic connections. He did not buy luxuries or go on exotic travel with the family. One thing he always wanted, though, was a Cadillac, that postwar sign of fatty affluence. For years he drove Oldsmobiles or even Chevrolets, until one day, I saw, appearing in our driveway, a 1968 Cadillac Coupe De Ville. It was a massive, finned car, with brocade upholstery, more like a Cold War rocket laid horizontally on the ground. The seats moved by levers inside. The wheel seemed enormous. He had gotten the car from a friend, Joe Kraus, who owned a car dealership. Dad had arrived.

Well, on one Saturday, Dad suggested we go out in his new car. I had a friend, John over. John lived on Capitolean, and I slept over there sometimes. John was a very impressive person, and I imagine him nowadays at the helm of some corporation, or leading troops into battle. Extremely conscientious, well groomed, and polite. The home was also very disciplined and well run. His father had been a Seabee.

First stop was 7-Eleven. Both John and I were treated by Dad to Slurpees and got back into the car. One needn’t have prescient abilities to figure out what happened next. With the Slurpee all over the back seat, my dad did his best to assure John that it was okay, don’t worry, they could get the Slurpee out of the fabric. John seemed pretty upset, constantly apologizing. I was proud my father wasn’t mad at John—more trying to reassure him that it was not a catastrophe that there was Slurpee all over the back seat of his dream car. The stain though, did remain in attenuated from over the 20 plus years my father drove that blue Coupe De Ville.