Dr. Vance
Dad’s best friend in Austin was Dr. Vance, a dentist. My first visit to Dr. Vance’s office on Congress Avenue was a thrill. He built model airplanes and had a lot of them suspended from the ceiling in his waiting room. I was enthralled with them. Dr. Vance had one that had a propeller that wound up with a strong rubber band; and, it would really fly. Doc wanted to give that one to me, but Dad wouldn’t let him. I think Dad’s reasons were integrity-related.
Doc was also into ham radio. I can still see him and Dad in my mind’s eye as they called a ship at sea before World War II. Somehow, out of all of this, I later learned Morse Code.
Years later Doc entered my life again, when I was in junior high. He was into racing model cars, and had one that I got to see set a world record of 107 mph. It went in a circle, held by a small cable. It was probably 16″ long and was propelled by gasoline, I think.
Also, when I was in junior high school, again I got to witness Dad and Doc calling somewhere in the world on that ham radio. Jim was present. Doc was constantly chewing on a cigar. He often expectorated into a spittoon halfway across the room, and rarely if ever missed.
Jim, Dad, and Doc years later got involved in tracing radio signals moving around the city of Austin, tracking down the vehicles transmitting. It was quite a sport! I never got to see them doing that, though.
Still later Doctor Vance got into electric trains and turned his large south-facing porch into a room devoted entirely to trains. He had a city, countryside, farms, bridges and more. He had about forty trains with a console control area from which he could run many trains simultaneously. It was a fine art!
The last time I saw Dr. Vance was about 1960. It was at a bowling alley, and he was into bowling as much as he ever had been in any of his other hobbies.
He worked on my teeth only once. I think I was in high school. I remember his sticking fingers of both hands into my mouth and said, “If this hurts, just whistle.” He refused payment for the work he did. I never went back to him for dental work.
After Jeannie and I were married, we went to visit the Odem’s,–some of her kinfolk in Austin. As fate would have it, they lived right next door to Dr. Vance. When Odem, a building contractor, died his widow offered Jeannie and me the Bible of Joel Robison,–Jeannie’s great-great grandfather, who had captured Santa Anna at the Battle of San Jacinto in the spring of 1835. We had no use for it, not realizing its value. It is now in hard-to-get-to archives at the University of Texas.
My knowing Dr. Vance and Annie spanned about thirty years.