Historic Hood River
Hood River Memorial Hospital
I think this Joe Young image shows an operating theater at Hood River Memorial hospital, circa 1950. There are tanks of nitrous and oxygen attached to the table.
Category: Downtown Hood River
Tags: 1950s, hospital, Joe Young
Tags: 1950s, hospital, Joe Young
The medical profession has advanced considerably.
I wish we know who the women were. I am thinking the one with the old starched white hat is an RN and the other is an assistant. In those days that hat was definitely a badge of honor.
I don't remember too much about the hospital during those days as was fortunate and never needed to avail myself of its services. I do remember going down and seeing a new born cousin through the nursery window in the early 1950's.
spent a couple of high school summers back in the 1950s working as a custodian helper at the hospital…all NICE people but some of the work was not all that pleasant….after birth and the incinerator are first to be remembered….but then there was the repainting of the beds on the roof that was semi-pleasant. a good summer job.
and yes, nurses uniforms have certainly changed.
When I was a young fellow the 1940's, I was in this hospital. Apparently it was so full at that time that they didn't have a room to put me in, so they set up a kid's bed in the hall for me. I remember people coming to visit other patients would sometimes stop by to greet me. I also remember getting a penicillin shot every 3 hours.
Former neighbor, now deceased, was a high clearance govt. employe who wanted out. Husband and son both fell ill and were hospitalized. Scientists came to her and offered to provide experimental medicine if she would stay in her position. SO she did to save her family. They gave her a note and told her to present it to the doctors. Father and son survived. Later found out it was the early penicillin, still under experimental guidelines.
sounds like my 40s hospital “visit” and tonsil removal Bill…..remember all the jelloâ€¦.
When I had my tonsils out they had just repainted the rooms. I remember the doctor asking me to spit and I know now he wanted me to spit in this container he had. No doubt checking to see if there was blood. So I spit…..all over their nicely freshly painted walls. The doctor never left me forget that. Had many laughs about it over the years…..
My mother-in-law, which she was not then, Virginia Jones worked at the hospital in the supply department.
I was about three or four when Dad and Mom decided I needed to be in the Hospital, and so there I was screaming and throwing a fit locked away in a baby bed with wooden slats for steel bars. Some how the people in charge kept me corralled in that bed, and the next night dad and mom came to check up on me and the screaming and the fits took over once again. My dad offered to sneak in with a hamburger, the next night, if I would agree to quiet down a stay confined in bed, I agreed. The next night I could smell that wonderful greasy spoon hamburger when dad got off the elevator. I was standing up and rattling the slats on my cage when he came through the door holding that greasy soaked paper bag. Dad looked over his shoulder and putting a finger to his lips the conspiracy was complete. I don't remember how long I was in the hospital but I'm pretty sure it wasn't many nights. Dad told me the doctor was the same doctor (C. C. Chick) who delivered me into the world in that very same hospital (1937). I had a baby infant brother named Lonnie. Lonnie died of pneumonia around that same period. Times were tough in our family of thirteen the snow was deep the orchards cold, and Dad and Mom and my slightly older brothers worked when work was there to done. We survived.