Ashford Fun.

Ashford Fun.

Below is Doug's (obviously not quite his real name) car. Even in 1961 a genuine bona fide antique. He was quite a big man and I, not a small man and both of our wives (no comment!) and both of our beautiful daughters, all squeezed into this car. We drove up a huge incline to Dover, and I can well recall having to stop half way up that almost vertical incline to let the boiling radiator coolant (actually water in those days) cool down. It was easier to get really boiling water out of Doug's Baby Morris radiator than it was to get boiling water in a 'tearoom'. He could take that car apart screw by screw, bolt by bolt - and put it back together again!

I walked into the small room just next to the medical records department. It was a sort of dictation cum coffee room where the interns or specialists could do some dictation or just grab a cup of coffee and read the paper when we had time. I had made my rounds on the orthopedic ward and had half an hour before I was due in the emergency department. I met Doug, who was on his way out.

"The very guy I was looking for," said he. "I was talking to one of the ambulance drivers yesterday and he wanted to know if I was interested in buying an eight gallon crock of applejack for ten shillings. That's almost for nothing."

"What's applejack?" I asked, "cider? eight gallons sound like an awful lot!"

"It's a lot stronger than cider," Doug said. "The local farmers make cider and then they distill it. Quite illegal, of course, dear boy, but it does yield a rather excellent apple brandy. Bootleg Calvados, I call it! "

"Well, for five Bob (shilling) a piece we can't go too far wrong now, can we? That much will probably last us a few months."

Doug laughed, "A few months! It will last the whole year. Eight gallons, man, that will last us the whole year."

"Okay, let's go for it." I said.

"I'll let you know when it arrives, then you and Irene come over and we'll give it a good sampling."

Three days later I was helping to bath the baby when the phone rang.

"Hello" said I.

" I need some help here," he said.

"What's up?

"A couple of Ambulance guys pulled up at our door and said we have some stuff for you. Then they scooted off and left this huge crock on the doorstep. I need some help to get this contraband off the doorstep and upstairs (they lived on the second floor) before the cops come to help!"

"Be right over!" said I.

I raced right over to find Doug standing beside an eight gallon stone crock full of apple brandy! It was difficult for two stalwart healthy young men to move, but committed to the task as we were, we managed to nudge it up a step at a time until we finally sashayed it into the middle of the kitchen.

The big heavy stone jar came above our waist level.

" I don't wish to sound awkward or to be difficult, but have you considered how we are going to decant that stuff into usable bottles? We certainly can't pour it out of a container this size."

"Yes," said Doug. "I guess we are just going to have to siphon it out!"

"You mean you think I'm going to drink that stuff after you stick a tube into it and start it flowing by sucking it out?"

"Yes, I know you are! Anyway, that stuff’s got a high enough alcohol content that nothing could live in it. I have to go over to the hospital to do a few pre-op examinations shortly so I'll pick up some IV tubing which will be ideal to start the siphoning process. Meanwhile you round up as many empty bottles or other receptacles that we can fill up with the stuff. We can't leave this giant jar in the middle of our kitchen. Once we have enough decanted we can waltz this bloody great crock into the broom closet."

By the time he had returned from the hospital, I had rounded up a half dozen or so of empty bottles. He had the IV tubing, made sure one end of it was submerged in the 'moonshine', stuck the other end in his mouth and sucked. It took a few attempts to get it flowing and I watched carefully to make sure he wasn't dribbling any more than necessary, even though we had already decided that the concoction was antiseptic. Once the siphoning was completed and sampled, we had enough energy between us to maneuver it into the broom closet.

" You and Irene come over for a drink or two later," said Doug, as I left.

"Sounds like an idea!, We'll be there about seven."

As soon as we had finished supper, we tucked the baby into the Moses basket and slipped on their own jackets to keep us warm on the early fall evening. A few doors down Western Rd, which ran along-side the hospital was Doug and Mona's apartment. We were welcomed in and gently put the portable crib with the sleeping Rena, in with little Carol.

Mona was already whisking their coats away.

"Well there it is. That's your ten shilling crock of booze! It works out about half the price of petrol," said Doug.

I think there'll be enough to keep us in booze for the whole year. That's a lot of cider," I said.

"If this thing ever fell over onto it's side, it would flood this whole kitchen," said Doug.

"This stuff is pretty good despite it's awful colour," Doug said, after the first few sips.

"Yes," I agreed, "it could definitely grow on you."

The girls were chatting about the kids and God knows what and Doug and I were talking about medicine. I had been impressed with Doug's skills and broad experience. In those days general surgery had not yet been sub-specialized and sub sub specialized in the manner in which it has today and a good general surgeon would do a considerable range of surgical procedures that no general surgeon would do today, including orthopedic and urological surgery. General surgery today is almost relegated to abdominal surgery.

I said, "you seem to have had quite a bit of urological and orthopedic experience as well as other surgical sub-specialties.."

"Yes, I've done about fifty open orthopedic cases as well as innumerable closed reductions. In the urological area I guess I've done thirty or thirty-five procedures," Doug replied.

"So with all due respect what are you doing here in Ashford?" I asked, knowing Doug had come there from one of the major London teaching hospitals. I also knew that once one got out of the mainstream that it was well nigh impossible to get back into the hierarchy.

"My boss at the Middlesex Hospital (a major London teaching hospital) advised me to go out into a rural hospital and get some 'field' experience for a year or two and then come back as his Registrar (junior consultant). So here I am."

It didn't sound kosher to me, but I said nothing. After all, what did I know?

In fact it wasn't kosher at all. When Doug completed his time at Ashford and went back to apply for the aforementioned job it transpired that the job he had been promised was given to the Great Man's Wife's nephew.

"I'm sorry, Old Boy, but what else could i do?"

Doug was devastated and that whole situation was to have a major impact on the rest of his life.

We continued to sip our drinks. They were quite enjoyable and didn't seem too potent as we remarked after a couple of drinks. In

fact they seemed to get milder as the evening progressed!

"Ever do any fishing?" asked Doug.

"Yes, my uncle took me salmon fishing a couple of times. I was bored stiff."

"Well, perhaps we should take a drive to Dungeness and set some lines, and leave them overnight and come back in the morning and see if we have some Dungeness crabs."

I always enjoyed seafood, so Dover Sole and Dungeness Crab sounded good.

"Okay, fishing is definitely on the menu. What else is there to do around here?"

The girls joined the conversation at this juncture.

"Yes, what is there to do around here?" asked Irene.

"Ah, dear girl, you are in one of the most interesting parts of England. Folkestone, Dover, Canterbury, Hythe, Rye, Maidstone are all a stone's-throw away. Historically, you are in one of the most fascinating parts of our great country," Doug concluded dramatically.

"Gosh, I wish we had a car," Irene said.

"We can all go to Dover in my car, “ said Doug. Seat straps hadn't been invented yet, let alone baby seats.

Doug had a 1939 baby Morris, about the size of a shoebox, that was long since obsolete, but he kept running by will-power and the fact that he could pull the engine out of that little car, take it apart and put it back together again. Not bad for a surgeon !

I said, "Yes, I sure wish I had a car." I was twenty-five and a doctor and had never owned a car.

"You know, I have a friend I went to school with who's now running his father's car dealership. They take in a lot of old trade-ins, in running condition that wouldn't cost much. He's coming down to see me soon. I'll ask him if he has anything cheap for sale."

"It would have to be really cheap," I said, " I've hardly any money."

"But wouldn't it be wonderful," Irene said excitedly. "We would be able to explore all those interesting places."

The next several weekends, in February and March, despite the inclemencies of the English weather, whenever both Doug and I were off duty, both families piled into the ancient little baby Morris (See picture) and the four adults and two babies, packed like sardines, toured the surrounding countryside. Dover, Dymchurch, Folkstone, Hythe, Maidstone and Canterbury. Those historical port cities of the south of England, that opened up the world to Britain, and allowed her to export civilization, culture and education to much of the world,. In those waning days of the commonwealth, they aroused feelings not only of historical greatness but also of contemporary relevance, that were to vanish all too soon.

Some weeks later Doug's friend of the car dealership came to visit.

"This is Jim, Stan. I told you about him, he's in the car business. He was coming down to see me and I asked him if he could dig up something off their used car lot that cost next to nothing".

"Yes," said Jim. "I actually drove down today in an old clunker that still seems to drive quite well. You can have a look at it later. If you want it I think I can let you have it at a price that won't hurt you."

I was quite excited at the prospect of having my own car, no matter how old and banged up as long as it would drive safely.

"How much is this going to cost me? I may not be able to afford it." I said.

"Come have a look at it." he said.

I walked with him and Doug to the parking lot. I saw it. A magnificent tank, old and worn but still majestic! Front doors swinging open from the centre, so that if you had to jump out they would undoubtedly kill you, thus their sobriquet of 'suicide doors'. The doors shut with the resounding resonance of the slamming of a bank vault door.

"Can I take it for a spin around the block?' I asked.

"Sure,that's why I drove down here in it."

I slid into the driver's seat (pure well aged leather) Jimmy got in beside me and Doug climbed into the back. I pulled the starter and the engine purred on the first turnover. I slid her into first gear (there wasn't such a thing as automatic transmission in those days) and she moved off smoothly. I took her for a short drive and it was love at first sight!

"How much does this cost? I asked apprehensively as we climbed out of the car."

"How does ten pounds sound to you?"

"You're kidding."

In those days a pound was worth three dollars, so this was a virtual gift.

" I 'll take it," I yelled excitedly.

"The only thing is that I have no way of getting home now, so you' ll have to drive me home, it's about a two hour drive from here." he said.

"Oh, that's fine," I said happily.

" The bonus is that the tank is full of petrol and the tyres are almost new!"

The best bargain I ever had!

And that is why there's a picture of that 1935 Morris 12 taped to the notice board overlooking my basement workbench to this very day!

1Rick McDonald