Saturday, Dec 18, 1943
I had now spent quite a lot of time with my father’s family in New York City — Brooklyn, to be exact. Today, the commute to Brooklyn from Connecticut would be easy, depending on traffic. But then, with no highways and with gas rationing, restrictions on train travel and just the hassle of traveling with a baby (me!) my parents chose to stay put and do lots of visiting with Abe’s family. If the challenges of such a short trip seemed daunting then, imagine what faced Dr. Gordon S. Seagrave in his surgical HQ in a remote Burmese jungle. His bestselling “Burma Surgeon” was a reminder of how far away my father might soon be. Dr. Seagrave and his jungle surgical station are forgotten today, except, I hope, by the people whose loved ones he saved.