Memories of Working for
Doctor Edgar J. Willke

Jane Ranly

Many times throughout the past 13 years I have reflected back on my job with Dr. Willke and Dr. Schwieterman. Not only did it help me pay my way through college, but also gave me valuable knowledge of health and medicine. It was a very interesting place to work, and to the wise, “never a dull moment!”

I still recall heating up hot dogs and hamburgers over the autoclave for lunch! “Cookie breaks” also remain a fond part of my memory. I can’t remember how many pills I counted out and packaged through those years. Even to this day, when I go to the office I still feel like I’m a part of the place.

I would like to wish Dr. Willke the best on his retirement and many more happy years!

Jeanette

Dear Dr. Willke,

Congratulations on your retirement. You always have been and probably always will be the best family doctor I have ever known. You’re tops!

A big “thank you” from my family and myself for caring and being there when we needed you. We have always considered you as a good friend, as I’m sure all your patients have.

I very much enjoyed my employment with you and feel that it has been an invaluable experience for my future in nursing. I think that it helped me mature as a nurse and as a person.

It is my hope that you and Freda have many happy years together. God bless you both. With many happy memories of you and your family.

Mary Bruns

Dr. Willke,

Thank you very much for everything you did for me as an employee, but especially as our family physician. All the house calls you made for my late parents-in-law were deeply appreciated.

I reminisce frequently about the time I was employed at the office. The greatest improvement when the office was first opened was that the patients no longer had to come to the back door for refills and other medications.

I will remember you and Mrs. Willke when I go to Rome. Thank you and Freda for many happy retirement years together.

Karen

Dear Dr. Willke,

When I reflect on the eight years that I worked for you, it’s hard to put down in words the emotions and memories recalled. But for this memento of your office staff’s recognition of your retirement, I’ll struggle with my thoughts to make some appropriate comments.

I was always impressed with your professionalism. You treated your patients and office help with respect and I appreciated that. Despite your dedication to and your obvious love of the practice of medicine, you always seemed to be able to manage to have other interests. Your concern for community affairs, enjoyment of sporting events, gardening skills, love of horse riding and especially your commitment to your family made you such a well-rounded person. I think that’s a quality seldom found in medical doctors anymore.

I liked your common sense approach to medicine. It must have taken perseverance to tell patients “let time and nature heal this problem” when they clamored for quicker results. Even when a patient was faced with a serious medical condition, you managed to give them hope and optimism.

On the lighter side, I liked your sense of humor. With the pressure and stress style of work that the practice of medicine has become, without the ability to laugh we become much too serious. Singing “Happy Birthday” to Grandpa Feltz, joking with you about your Thursday’s “house calls,” remembering the expression on your face when you walked out of a room after doing a sports physical on a patient and said, “I thought that was a boy, so I told him to take off his shirt and here it was a girl!” are all memories that bring a smile to my face.

I remember my first big mistake after starting to work here. I did the “cardinal sin” of letting a patient leave before you said they were ready to leave. I wonder how many of us don’t remember chasing out to the parking lot to retrieve a patient from their car and to bring them back into the office for one more instruction from Dr. Willke!

Of course, there were sad times too. The loss of a patient was always hard, but you seemed to help all of us remember that death is a part of life and deal with our sadness by getting on with life. Our loss of Bert is a big sadness we all share and I don’t think we’ll ever understand why it happened.

In conclusion, when you look back on your years of practicing medicine you must be filled with such a sense of accomplishment and pride. You made a difference in the lives of thousands of people. I’m proud I was able to work for you. My family and I wish you a healthy, happy retirement.

With sincerity and respect.

Janet (Heitbrink) Borgerding

For you Dr. Willke:

I understand you have officially retired (this time). Congratulations and hope you have a long, healthy and, I might add, a well deserved retirement.

Just a few little bits and pieces I recall happened while I worked for you. If my memory serves me right, I started in January of ’59 and worked thru January of ’68. There were numerous incidents that happened those years; in fact I think something different almost everyday. Of course, some were humorous and some very interesting, sad occasions and meeting some very interesting and unusual patients.

Dr. Willke, remember these: the day you had me take the Osgood priest (can’t remember his name) to Coldwater Hospital and admit him with a heart attack — I think I almost had one myself; the times we went to your house to wash medicine bottles to be reused; all the good times at the yearly Christmas parties held at the Elks Club; the patient who came late with a laceration and you made me give him a tetanus shot — I actually dreamt the poor fellow died, fortunately he didn’t; your kindness and patience with me and the bookkeeping and checking account; the nice and wonderful talks we had at our morning coffee and cookie breaks; and buying two-ply toilet tissue instead of one-ply.

I liked working with all my co-workers. There was Mary, Jeanette and Muriel, then came Roene, Viola and Joanne, followed by Julie and Aggie. Sure hope I didn’t miss anyone. They were all a joy and wonderful to work with.

I guess what it all comes down to is my working for you, Dr. Willke, was very rewarding and helpful in my life. Especially after getting married and the little ones came along, including measles, chicken pox, lacerations, etc., I knew and had some knowledge of what to do, thanks to you. The many things that you taught me thru those nine years were truly great and I have never regretted any of them.

So to you Dr. Willke and Freda: You deserve the best. I certainly hope the retirement is everything you ever dreamed of. May it be a long and happy one.

With ALL MY LOVE.

Jeanette (Wurst) Meaker

Life’s made for living, Which you practice everyday; By giving and caring, And showing me the way!

In 1957 I was working evenings for a lady named Aphina, when a gentleman came home for lunch. He asked Aphina if he could borrow the cleaning lady for the afternoon, because he had some odd jobs to be done at the office. That’s when it all began!

These odd jobs turned into a full-time job by the year 1959. These jobs included mowing grass, pumping air in the pressure tank of the water pump, washing bottles, changing a flat tire, filing, counting pills, etc., etc. Really, they were the good old days!

I remember once I was supposed to take this man’s new Chrysler car to the bank. I never did figure out how to move the seat forward. I sat on the very edge of the seat and held onto the steering wheel for dear life, so I could reach the pedals, because this man must have long legs.

Sometime I was more trouble than help. I remember the time he was suturing up a patient when his so-called nurse passed out and he ended up taking care of her instead of the patient.

Once this gentleman had an infected hair root in his neck which he asked me to remove. I remember how scared I was, for fear I might hurt my employer!

This gentleman, other than talking about, is a wonderful person, and he was a great person to work for. To have the patience to train me took more than anyone could do. He is the one and only Dr. E. J. Willke.

Thanks for everything you did for me, and all the things you taught me! I wish you the best in your new venture of retirement. Best wishes to you and Alfreda!

Aggie

Some memorable moments I have working with Dr. Willke are his patience he had with me while teaching me the ropes. I sure had a lot to learn and had to ask an awful lot of questions.

But probably some of the most memorable events are the care he gave as our family doctor. Quite a few of them were after office hours.

I remember bringing Mike to the house late one night when a baby to reduce a protruding hernia. At 13 months he had a hernia surgery and at four years a tonsillectomy. One Sunday afternoon he sutured Mike’s forehead when he got hit with a horseshoe.

Bill had stitches on his lip one Christmas night. Dr. Willke also took care of him when he broke his leg during football practice.

Nick had multiple lacerations. I remember bringing him in for suture removal one week and coming back the next with another laceration.

When Linda was nine years old she was injured in a car-bicycle accident. This time Dr. Willke got called out of church during Bob Schwieterman’s First Communion Mass and took care of her.

I had appendectomy and hernia surgeries, both on Saturday nights.

I will always be grateful to Dr. Willke for his care and patience with our family and also for hiring me at the office.

Renee

Office Memories — I call them my “MOSTS.”

The most frustrating: how I was never quite able to convince Dr. Willke of whatever argument that I was able to loudly put forth. I never quite won, I guess.

The most touching: the two times that young children died in the office when I was present.

The most frightening: the mornings when I showed up at the office during the flood — the floating family house, water up to our room to wall. After several times, it became routine.

The most stupid: the time I put two people (of different sex) into the same examining room to wait for the doctor to return from lunch. They were strangers to one another. Fortunately for me, I guess, they came back now; they both came. I’ll never forget this one.

The most satisfying: over the 19 years that I was at the office, I watched with a number of different girls. Belonged to me a lot about them all of them. I was treated with respect and fairness and have truly never encountered a better friend. The employer-employee relationship is another matter!

Pat Klosterman

Congratulations on your retirement.

Many great memories came to mind when I sat down to write this note. The four years I worked at the office were enjoyable and very, very educational. I remember having to use a dictionary quite often. In fact on my very first day at the office “diarrhea” became part of my spelling vocabulary. It is spelled correctly, isn’t it?

Also during those first few weeks, I learned that “few” could have about 200 different symptoms, and that I better ask a “few” more questions when I answered the phone. Thinking about answering the phone brings back other memories too, even ones that occurred at home. I didn’t want the number of times relatives or friends hung up on me because they thought they had the wrong number when I answered our home phone saying, “Hello, Drs. Willke and Schwieterman’s office.”

And if you only knew how nervous I was the very first time you handed me the keys to your car and made a deposit at the bank. Wow — that was some responsibility for an 18 year old. I also remember being nervous over Christmas eve. After you and Dr. Schwieterman had seen all of your patients, I became a patient. You each pierced one of my ears. You pierced one ear twice because the first hole went a little crooked. As I left the office to go home you said, “On the way to your car, if you happen to hear someone whistle at you, don’t be too concerned because it just might be the wind going through the extra hole in your ear lobe.”

I also remember certain patients who helped me learn that I do not faint at the sight of blood, that small children can be very strong when they do not want stitches or a booster shot, and that some women really do not enjoy being weighed.

I remember changing patients’ appointment times (sometimes more than once), trying to balance the books at the end of a busy day (good experience for my own checkbook), fig newtons (still one of my favorite cookies), the smile in room four (it weighed a little light), drug salesmen (especially the one with the candy bar for Mrs. Utz), counting pills (when the girls in the back were extra busy), and many other small but memorable incidents.

I will always be grateful to you for giving me the chance to work in the office. It helped make it possible for me to continue my college education. I really did learn so much during those four years, not only at college, but at the office as well. I did some maturing. On my last day at the office you said, “Pat, I am not sure how you will work with the children in your classroom, but while working here, I have seen you deal with every kind of parent.” How true! Thanks for these and many other memories!

Best wishes and happiness in your retirement.

Bonnie

Dear Dr. Willke,

When I started working for you in September 1955, office work was quite a change from hospital routine. The first week I hated it and worried that I had made a mistake in leaving hospital work. Gradually I learned to enjoy it and never regretted leaving the hospital. The experiences I received working for you were invaluable while raising a family.

I remember outbreaks of measles, mumps, chicken pox and polio. There was no measles or mumps vaccine in those days. The first polio vaccine was released while I worked for you. Many mornings after the appointments were finished, you and I had left for the hospital, Janette and I were very busy inoculating both children and adults.

Sometimes I made house calls while I usually arrived doing them. I have never liked cats, and I hated going to Annie Heitkamp’s to change the dressing on her ankle ulcer because of the cats she had. The fact that I didn’t understand much of the German she spoke didn’t bother me.

You always told me to learn the low blood pressure treatment — open your office, open wider, you wanted to do a pelvic exam if a husband had come in with his wife. One day a young couple came in. I didn’t recognize them and you said you would take care of starting a new chart. Presently you asked me to prepare her for a pelvic exam while I did, leaving the door open. When you came in the treatment room you expressed alarm. The door you had forgotten to tell me they weren’t married!

I have fond memories of the bunch I worked for you; you were never difficult to work for and you never reprimanded me except for one glaring incident. I wish you good health, your new retirement, and many happy years.

Emily Koesters

Dr. Willke,

When I was offered the job of working in your office, I thought it was going to be “a piece of cake.” Boy, did I have a lot to learn!

After spending a lot of time with Mrs. Willke during the summer of 1980, I knew various tidbits about you as a person. As a boss, you scared me to death!!! You always seemed so stern, gruff and businesslike. During those first couple of months, a reprimand from you was worse than a slap on the hand. When you did correct me, you usually took the time to explain what I did wrong and why it was wrong. That meant a lot to me!

Today that fear has turned into boundless amounts of respect and admiration. You gave so unselfishly of yourself. When a patient needed you, you were there — even if it meant giving up a golf game or a peaceful evening at home with your wife.

As I look back over the years, I can’t help but laugh and shed a few tears over the many things I’ve experienced and learned at the office. Such as: being civil to a patient who was a “crack”; getting “points” for finding lost charts; acquiring the technique for getting the water in the correct temperature for ear irrigations — I think I did it right once; learning never to stick anything into an ear that’s smaller than an elbow; keeping a patient in a room until you said they were ready to go; getting our break before you were through with yours; praying for rain on Thursdays, just so you could stay and work late; learning to cope with those hunger pains when you decided your breakfasts at the Briarwood Utilization Meeting — “They only served those powder scrambled eggs!!!”; how it takes three adults to hold down a child for you to suture; the many dinners we would end up eating at 1:00 or 1:30 due to someone over-scheduling the morning appointments; and that going to a football game on Friday night despite the rain or snow was worth it!

Dr. Willke, if anyone deserves a spot near the Lord’s right hand, I’m sure you do. But I must confess — I think your wife will be one step closer for all she’s put up with!

May you have an enjoyable retirement! Love always.

Martha

They were interesting, enjoyable, invaluable, and memorable years of my life. Whether they are called the good old days or stepping stones to what medicine is today, I learned a lot working for Dr. Edgar J. Willke during those years.

There was no formal job description outlining my duties and responsibilities. I performed as receptionist, nurse, and bookkeeper. On rare occasions I filled in as groundskeeper, handyman, chauffeur, or assistant in whatever situation we found ourselves in. It added a touch of spice and variety to the job.

During the first weeks of my employment, Julie Albers continued working for Dr. She was a pleasant, reserved, knowledgeable individual who did a great job. I learned a lot from Julie and I tried to continue the job as she had done it. Being a young and new nurse who thought she knew it all, I had to interject some of my own thoughts and ideas here and there. She was always open-minded and willing to listen which made me feel good. Whether or not I really contributed anything worthwhile is apt to omit. I felt like I was part of the professional team during those years.

Dr. Willke was always a professional. I’m sure his patients knew him as such. In his general practice he functioned as internist, surgeon, gynecologist, mental health counselor, and emergency physician. Superior and illnesses which were not within the realm of his capabilities were referred to the proper specialists. Besides being a very knowledgeable and capable physician, he was not just my employer; he was a co-worker and friend, an advisor and surrogate father.

Dr. Willke was a medical teacher and taught me a great deal during the four years that I worked for him. He showed me how to identify rashes and skin eruptions associated with communicable diseases and infections. He taught me first aid and suturing techniques. He pointed out signs and symptoms and diagnostic procedures as he encountered patients requiring treatment. When he left for professional trips or vacations, he allowed me to see his routine patients, refill prescriptions, assess patients and treat those with problems that I felt capable and confident in treating. I always announced to a waiting room full of people that the doctor was on vacation but I was there to help those who cared to stay. Amazingly very few would leave. The lesson, at least this indicated, the confidence the patients felt in what their doctor had taught his nurse.

During one of Dr. Willke’s vacation trips my gastric upset eventually put him to bed. Although he was unaware that Dr. was gone, he came to the office and asked me to suture the wound. When all attempts to take him to the hospital or another physician failed, I checked for severed tendons, cleaned and anesthetized the area, and sutured the laceration. Thank goodness it healed nicely. This was another example of how well Dr. had been taught by my boss, the doctor.

Before Dr. left for vacations he would take me with him on any home visits he was making at the time. One of the routine house calls of his has remained a vivid memory of mine. The patient was an elderly individual with severe leg ulcers. The first time I helped him remove the dressing, the wound was full of maggots. What was this I was seeing? What maggots were used to clean out wounds in the early days of medical practice. Although they were not intentionally used for that purpose in this case, I could see evidence to that theory. The wound was nice and clean. Whenever we removed all the creatures and applied sterile medicated dressing as our mode of treatment, it required several dressing changes to rid the wound of the hungry varmints. I don’t remember any antibiotic therapy in conjunction with the vitamin ointment dressing, but the wound healed beautifully in time. After thirty or more years the sight of the maggots is still quite visible in my memory.

I arrived about two weeks early and the preparation for this memorable trip to Rome and Lourdes brought great joy and happiness. On most occasions, it was one even of my positive which demanded the strictest confidentiality. Never did any such announcement come from my lips — I remember the expression of disbelief on the faces of several close relatives and friends when I explained my mother had not been made aware of their forthcoming blessed events. Perhaps I carried it a little too far when I failed to tell mom that Dad had delivered twins for a neighbor on Father’s Day.

Away from the job our association continued. Although Dr.’s profession demanded much of his time, he found time to give to church. He coached the girls’ CYO basketball team for several years. He really got into the games. His excitement and enthusiasm, along with disappointment, were as great as any member of the team. He may not have been as demonstrative at home, but his heart and feelings were there. We all appreciated his involvement very much.

Dr. and his family took my family on as part of their own in a sense. We were invited to participate in some of the family functions. I remember a back-yard picnic and visits to their beautiful home. They took my family and me to see our first hockey game at Hobart Arena in Troy.

The last situation we encountered following one pleasant event will never be forgotten. We had spent an enjoyable afternoon watching a football game at Elder’s stadium when Bill was a student and a member of the football team. On the way home Dr. stopped at the hospital to see his patients while we waited in the car. Within minutes he returned to the car and asked me to come inside with him. There I was told about the tragic accident and ensuing loss suffered by my poor brother-in-law, Sylvan. A golf the night at the hospital with him and took him home on Sunday after completing his hospital rounds.

I have yet another recollection of Dr.’s generosity and feeling for my family. It occurred on a Sunday afternoon. I had gone to a bridal shower for a friend. While I was gone Mom had a severe gallbladder attack. She called Dr. who came to the house to give her an injection for pain, contacted relatives so Mom wouldn’t remain at home unattended, and then went over to stay with you until Martha came home. And it did! Such thoughtful gestures were greatly appreciated.

The closing alludes to indicate: our four years that I spent working for Dr. Willke were happy, memorable years. They formed the groundwork and foundation of my adult life. Perhaps three years, in some small way, have contributed to my happiness and success as a wife, mother, and professional member of Good Samaritan Hospital’s health team.

Chris Prenger

Dr. Willke,

Fourteen years ago you hired a young 17-year-old high school graduate, with no experience, to work as your receptionist. Thanks to you, she was able to work her way through college and fulfill her dream of becoming a teacher. All those years later, I, that young girl, want to thank you for not just a job but for three years of experiences that are a unique part of my past.

Memories are many and mixed. I remember your quick, efficient care of your patients. Especially on Monday mornings when I had twenty people who needed a doctor and five appointment times were open. You managed to see them all and still have time for a coffee break.

As for coffee breaks, they were interludes of sanity in often crazy days. Tales of African travels and Fig Newton cookies were reminders that somewhere in the world the phone wasn’t ringing off the wall.

Enjoy your retirement!

Julia

Memories of Working with Dr. Willke: 1941–1950 — 1968–1982

I remember the day you stopped at the house, and told me you were looking for a girl to work in the office, as your practice was getting larger, you needed someone to assist you. I was just out of High School, and was not sure that working for you was what I wanted to do, but I was hired and here I am years later and still working in the same office.

My first day of work, I counted narcotics at a little card table in the drug room. The office was still in its original set up, although that same summer, the first step in remodeling began. Rosann was not quite a year old when I started to work, and when she began to talk, she could not say Julia, she just called me A, and Bill she called B., so we were A and B for quite a while.

There are many memories through the years, and of course the most rewarding one was going along on Home Deliveries. Helping to bring these tiny little infants into this world, even if it was the middle of the night sometimes, was quite an experience. The homes were quite different in each delivery. I remember one hot summer night at Cletus Voskuhl’s, no screens in the windows, we chased bugs, and delivered the baby. At Clem Knapke’s we built the fire so we could have hot water and sterilize the gloves and instruments. It was very interesting.

One of the first bad accidents was Gust Budde; he had gotten his hand in the corn picker and was minus a finger. I helped clean the wound and did not pass out, so you said I passed the test very well. Frank Boeckman did the same thing and came in with some finger missing. Tom Overman came in with a very nasty laceration of the upper thigh; a sow had bit him. You were at the hospital, so I sent him there. There was Donald Ranly; he had his finger caught in a meat grinder and took the tip of the index finger off. He was carrying the finger in a white handkerchief, and was crying and begging you to sew the tip of the finger back on, as he wanted to study to become a priest and he needed the index finger. You sutured it back together, but the tip had to eventually be taken off. Don became a priest without the tip of the index finger, but has since left the priesthood.

My nephew came in with a very bad laceration of the face. He had fallen down the stairs steps, with a piece of stove pipe in his hand and the laceration was black from the soot from the stove pipe. You said that had to be scrubbed so all the soot was out of the laceration. You sent my sister out of the room, and we put him to sleep, and then you scrubbed, and I thought you were going to scrub his whole side of the face off, but you got all of the soot out, and today he still has a large scar on the face, but there is no black soot in the scar.

A frightening experience was you sent me out to give Josephine Buey a shot. I don’t remember what I gave her, but she reacted to the injection and I thought she was going to die right then. She became cold and clammy and S.O.B. I called back to the office, and when you came out, she was snapping out of it. I was not going to give another shot, but you made me give her another one right then.

Then I was sent out to give Mark Prenger a pain shot. He was being transferred to Dayton, and when I got to Prenger’s I had nothing with me to give the shot; I had left everything back at the office. I flew back to the office in the white Pontiac, picked up the syringe and medication and flew back to Prenger’s. Mark already was in the ambulance, but I did get back in time to give him his shot, and when I got back to the office you said all this just because I didn’t have my mind on my work — I was getting married in two weeks.

Of course there were all the tonsillectomies we did in the office. Usually two and once in awhile three in one morning. Dr. Gomolski or Dr. Schmiesing coming to give the anesthetic. It got to be hectic at times when the patients were coming out of the anesthesia. The worst hangover I ever had, that morning we had a local tonsillectomy, and I really got sick and could barely help you finish, and you became upset and sent me home and told me not to come back until I was sober.

Those first nine years I worked, when you left on vacations, I was always told never to leave a new patient go someplace else. I was to do something for them so they would come back as patients. I remember occasions when people from North Star, if I remember right their name was Wagner, they brought their daughter in very ill, and they were new patients, and I thought she had all the symptoms of an acute appendix. I had witnessed your excellent judgment on diagnosing an appendix quite often, and I thought she was a good candidate for an appendix, and a new patient. I called the mother and told him about our patient, and he said to send her over. They would check her over, and she did have an acute appendix, and they were patients of ours after that.

I got an A for that one. I also missed some lacerations while you were on vacation, and the patients never became your patients.

I remember the late evening office hours and it was one of those hot summer nights and Mrs. Ed. Rabe delivered in the car, and he brought her to the office (not our patient). She was brought into the office and you delivered the placenta, and I didn’t know what to do with it. You did throw it in the kitchen sink after that. We were very busy and forgot about it, and later on Alfrida and the kids came home and there was the placenta in her kitchen sink. I think Bill had to bury it.

There were the cigarette days, no matter how busy we were, or what time of the day or night, if no more cigarettes in the pack, someone had to go and get a pack of Camels.

Those first 9½ years of work, I was the only one working in the office, so naturally your employment came, and after I came back in 1968 with another Dr. in the office, and several girls working, somehow you could still pinpoint the mistakes on the person who made it.

It was such a rewarding experience to help bring life into this world, and such a sad and hard thing to see the Poppelman and Holthaus infant die in the office.

Bert taking her life was a horrible blow to the entire office staff. She was such a good person, and had done such a long way since her first day of work. Why she did this, I guess we will never understand.

Writing this brings back lots and lots of things that happened, too many to put on this paper. Dr. Willke, I enjoyed all the years I worked with you, grateful for the many things you taught me, for the interesting experiences I had, the little phrase “There is no such word as can’t” was brought out to me quite often. I am to Bob Hope but “Thanks for the Memories,” and you and Freda enjoy your retired life.

Janie (Braun) Schmitz

To Dr. Edgar J. Willke,

I remember when I was very little and was suffering from ulcerative colitis, you sat by my bed holding my hand. I think I had a crush on you way back then. I never was afraid to go to the office to see you and I would be your nurse some day.

After I graduated from Medical Assistant school, I began work at the office in January of 1973 (when Jan Koenleke Ranly started her student teaching). I guess it was like a childhood dream come true. I also remember Jan telling me what Dr. Willke considered “cardinal sins”: chewing gum, asking patients “how are you today,” speeding patient information.

I like to think back through the years and how I looked forward to the mid-morning break (which has since become obsolete) and being able to visit a little. I even developed a real liking to fig newtons. It was a nice break from an almost constant telephone.

I often feared working with you because I was afraid of making you mad. But I’ve learned a lot from all of us called “good guys.” I think well I remember to assist you with morning polyps from a woman — No! I almost passed out. It was quite a mess experience.

I also have memories of you suturing a man in a room with an elderly confused gentleman while you spoke to his wife on another room. After returning to the hallway I found out that the gentleman had been throwing fits of violence. I almost melted thinking what could have happened while I was trying to make nice conversation with him. We all got a chuckle out of it. Dr. Willke knew what he was doing. “Keep cool.”

I know many of your patients were the elderly and I guess they seemed to be my favorite. You treated them with great patience and caring. I have a long list of special patients that I always looked forward to see even though I hated to see them sick.

I’ll never forget our mouse problems. The time you knocked that mouse up against the wall in what was room 3. It once came in when a mouse was caught by its tail and dragging the trap around. I only could think to cover it with a box until someone braver could dispose of it. I also recall Renee’s episode of a mouse on her coat one evening when we were going home.

I think back to a scary morning when I came to the office and found the back door open and glass broken and blood on the back steps. That was one of three times I remember such office robberies.

There’s many things I owe you for. Like the day you decided I had to learn to fix the dead batteries on patients’ cars. My success rate in jumping car batteries to this date is pretty good. On all sorts of weather I’ve surprised people that wondered if I really knew what I was doing. I always give you the credit — sometimes I began to feel like a “Jill of all Trades.”

We also did the bank runs with your car, transported patients to the hospital, cleaned, painted, wall papered, grocery shopped for goody supplies and other things that amount to the negligible. And I remember taking a Sunday afternoon away from wrestling report tapes to go to the hospital for a kidney stone.

In the 12 years I’ve been at the office I’m still learning about dealing with the public. Answering the telephone has been an education in itself.

I want to say thank you, Dr. Willke, for making a little girl’s hopes and dreams turn into a reality and for being so patient and caring. It was just your way to add a touch of joy to every day... and you “live once” with words of thanks for being just that way. Love.

Fritz Albers

Reflections

I did not have the opportunity to work with you during the period when you were semi-retired.

My memories of you being my family doctor has — I was growing up and into my adult years. We went through the usual broken bones, colds, stitches and surgeries for people. A severe impetigo case in all of the above situations. So many times it meant a house call which was very appreciated and mind-relaxing.

One incident in particular sticks out in my mind. When I was in grade school, Marion and I were playing after dinner. I ran right in front of Marion, consequently a car in the area requiring stitches. It was my fault but Dr. Willke since Marion was involved there wouldn’t be any charge. My Dad, with a smile on his face, said that one time you were playing with the right person.

Many good times were had during the late 1940’s at the Willke house. Hope you have many happy and good retirement years ahead of you.

Joan Bruns

Dear Doctor Willke,

I began working for you and Dr. Schwieterman in September 1963 and I am sure this employment has been one of the better things that has happened to me in my lifetime.

Your patience, tactfulness and professional attitude, both your employees as well as with your patients, have made a lasting impression. You always seemed to know exactly what to do and say in the most difficult situations.

Working at the office has certainly been a learning experience and I’ve often remarked how many useful things I’ve learned and how often this knowledge helped in the care of our children and in the raising of the children. The added income my working has provided has certainly helped finance their education and for this we thank you.

You have cared for Keith’s family for many years and we are grateful for all the times you helped with the care of his parents and the kindness you have shown them.

There have been funny as well as sad happenings during the years. I have met and come to know many nice people and treasure the friendships made with you and Mrs. Willke and Dr. Schwieterman and Marilyn and their family, as well as those of the girls with whom I have worked. Bert’s death was difficult and devastating for us all and something we probably never will fully understand.

So, after your years of dedicated service, both as a doctor for others, congratulate you and wish only the best in the future for you and Mrs. Willke. Sincerely.

Rita Niekamp

Dr. Willke,

As I remember all those “fun times” at the office, it’s hard not to crack a smile when I think back to — the first day on the job asking you what order the meds were in in the drug room so I could learn them more easily. “That’s the order they’re in and that’s the way they’ll stay — it’s our order.” I can still close my eyes and pick out Lanoxin in a snap.

Remembering to warm the vaginal speculum on the radiator before a pelvic exam — and doing this all the time since as no radiators. Little did those ladies know that not only was it warm from my rubbing it but it was the shiniest speculum around too.

Actually taking another patient back when the yellow chart was turned around, meaning a break, and I blew it! I also learned through the years that bringing something to eat in was a sure way to guarantee a break.

Being scared to death after I took over Renee’s job of ordering drugs, that I would run out of something. I prayed more than once that UPS would come speeding to my rescue!

Keeping like crazy to put back the vaginal forceps in its sacred place — being under penalty of death if you misplaced it was a sure way to make you tremble with its use.

Those — mice! More than once I almost screamed when one of those dear creatures jumped out when you opened the closet, or pulled out that little drawer in the drug room or even had enough gall to jump out of a radiator.

Surviving the remodeling project — I still don’t know how we maintained our sanity — especially when the receptionist was in old room 2 and we were using the new waiting room, and watching Bob Koester stretching out on the floor for a noon nap and wondering if we could do the same.

Those certain two people who used to faithfully stop on the way to or from Dr. Spillers’ office and use our restroom. One day in particular stands out when diarrhea struck. Thank heaven we never had to use the proper scoop again!

Playing social secretary from the time Mrs. Willke left for Florida until Dec. 1st. We almost started a pool to wager who would correctly pick your mystery bridge partners. Little did you know we had spies out all over so we could give our detailed weekly report to your wife.

Going out for breakfast on Sundays — two couples at a time — and the next year being replaced by Ted!

Being ready to crawl in a hole when the barrel of a glass syringe fell out when I was attempting to give Imferon. I had Imferon all over me and none in the patient’s gluteus maximus. You offered to buy me a new uniform but I got it all out after much scrubbing and soaking. I wonder if that new uniform offer still stands — I sure could use one now!

Thinking God’s mercy that the patient who we saw for chest pain had the decency to wait until he got to the hospital lobby before he went into cardiac arrest.

This list could go on and on but a certain boss once told me not to be so wordy — just stick to the facts. So Dr. Willke, thanks for everything — hiring me and not firing me, being a friend and our doctor who not only helped my mom and dad but also my kids and Bob and I.

And a special thanks to Mrs. Willke for making you what you are — after all, behind every successful man there’s a wife that made him that way. Best wishes always.