Frank Witkowski
Born: April 10, 1920
Died: February 15, 2009
Married: Lena Gareau (died 1991)
Children: Claudia Fennell; David Witkowski
Frank L. Witkowski was a resident of Saranac Lake since 1937, when he came to "take the cure" from tuberculosis at Ray Brook State Tuberculosis Hospital. He was one of the longest surviving thoracic surgery patients, one doctor identifying him as a walking medical museum. He was employed as an operating room nursing assistant and nursing assistant at the Ray Brook and Tupper Lake tuberculosis clinic for 32 years. He then worked at Uihlein Mercy Center until his retirement in 1987.
Obituary from FindAGrave
Frank F. Witkowski
SARANAC LAKE â Frank F. Witkowski, 88, of 60 Church St., Saranac Lake, died Sunday, Feb. 15, 2009, at AMC - Uihlein Center in Lake Placid, N.Y.
Born in Buffalo, N.Y., on April 10, 1920, he was the son of Frank and Antonina (Czelusta) Witkowski. He married Lena Gareau on May 8, 1946, at St. Peter's Church in Plattsburgh. Lena predeceased him on June 21, 1991. He was a 1972 graduate of Adirondack Community College in Glens Falls.
Mr. Witkowski was a resident of Saranac Lake since 1937, coming to the region to "take the cure" from tuberculosis at Ray Brook State Tuberculosis Hospital. He was one of the longest-surviving Thoracic Surgery patients, one doctor identifying him as a walking medical museum. Frank was employed as an operating room nursing assistant and nursing assistant at Ray Brook and the Tupper Lake Tuberculosis Clinic for 32 years. He then worked at Uihlein Mercy Center until his retirement in 1987.After his retirement, Frank provided Home Health Care assistance and transportation for errands and medical appointments to local residents. Frank was a member of St. Bernard's Church and the Knights of Columbus Council 599 for more than 45 years. He was a 4th Degree Knight and served as their financial secretary for more than 25 years.
Frank volunteered at the Adirondack Correctional Facility at Ray Brook assisting inmate visitors and was a Duplicate Bridge Club player for many years.
Frank is survived by his daughter, Claudia Fennell of Saranac Lake; his son, David, and wife, Catherine of Plattsburgh, N.Y.; three grandchildren, Melanie of Tumwater, Wash., Frank and Christopher of Plattsburgh; two great-grandchildren, Solomon and Darian of Tumwater, Wash.; and cousins in Buffalo and California.
He was preceded in death by his father; mother; and one sister, Mary.
Calling hours will take place at the Fortune-Keough Funeral Home on Wednesday, Feb. 18, from 2 to 4 p.m. and 6 to 8 p.m. A Bible vigil service will be held at 3:45 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon. A Mass of Christian burial will take place at noon on Thursday, Feb. 19, at St. Bernard's Church, with Father Thomas Kornmeyer officiating. Burial will follow at St. Bernard's Cemetery in Saranac Lake.
The following interview is part of the [Rickard's oral history interviews] conducted in 1987.
A WAY OF LIFE
Frank Witkowski was ten years old when his fireman father was run over by a truck in Buffalo, New York. He quit school in the ninth grade to help support his mother by working in a bakery. A quiet and unassuming man of 67, he still works part time as a nurse in a hospital for the elderly. He is the father of two children.
WHEN DID YOU DISCOVER YOU HAD T.B.?
I had night sweats, was coughing and losing weight. I was informed that I had T.B. on my 17th birthday, April 10th, 1937. The depression was just getting over and I was trying to help my mother, so I went to work in a bakery. It was night work with long h ours and heavy work, so I guess I picked it up there. I had worked for less than a year. The doctor who told me my sputum was positive asked me if Iâd like to go to Perrysburg Sanitarium, south of Buffalo, or to Raybrook in the Adirondacks. Both places were run by the state and were free.
WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION?
Most of all I was worried about my mother. When I told her about it, she was so downhearted. She said that she didnât want me to go to Perrysburg because too many people died there. I said, âO.K. Iâll go to Raybrook.â I made out an application at the Erie County Health Board. They said that Raybrook had a long waiting list and only took incipient or mild cases and since I was quite sick, there wouldnât be much hope for acceptance. I went home and coughed for a month. Soon I heard I was accepted for Raybrook. On May 7th, 1937 I came up alone on the train. Itâs funny but I wasnât scared. I had a strange feeling when I got on that train that I would be happy. I didnât want to see Buffalo again.
WERE YOU AN ONLY CHILD?
No, I had a younger sister but she died of T.B. Now, let me tell you about Raybrook. It was a great place. I came up here underweight and pretty sick. I was put on bedrest and trays. Gradually I was what they called solarium tables. You didnât have to get dressed except for pajamas and a bathrobe. In the main dining room you had to dress for dinner. The food at Raybrook was marvelous.
After eleven months, the doctor suggested surgery. My only fear was that there was an old man on my wing who had a thoracoplasty in the past and he was all bent over after the surgery. I said to my mother when she visited, âThatâs what Iâm going to look like afterward.â But I didnât. I decided to go ahead with it because I had seen other people who had surgery and they got better. At first you just felt like you had a heavy load on your shoulder but that feeling left after a few weeks. At night theyâd put heavy sand bags on your chest so the lung wouldnât expand. Afterward you did exercises with pulleys to build up the muscle tone. They gave me a three stage thoracoplasty. They took out parts of ribs. Do you want to feel my chest?
SURE.
See, thatâs where the ribs are missing. You can feel the ends of the ribs.
After a year they gave me a cure task. Everyone who is able had cure tasks. You deliver trays, set tables, or clean other patientsâ rooms. The patients in town thought that Raybrook was a terrible place because they made you work. Dr. Bray who ran the hospital, had a different idea about curing than they did in town where they put you to bed. At Raybrook they put you to work to help you get better, to build you up, not to get something outa ya. In town they cured your T.B. but the muscles were flabby. You can still see people on the street who are all hunched over. I guess it was a prestige thing, they were proud they could afford to pay and didnât have to work. Of course, in town they had less rules.
If you had a cure task, you were allowed to go into town for three hours once a week. The fellas were allowed Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The females had Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The cab fare was 20 cents, round trip. We used to drink at the bars or go to the movies. Often the local people would offer you a ride home; they were good to us.
DID YOU SOCIALIZE WITH THE LADIES?
Sure. There were paths through the woods where you could hold hands and you could also hold hands at the movies. There were a lot of romances. Many patients married other patients. We were allowed to visit the ladiesâ building every Saturday night. Usually we talked and played bridge. We met all sorts of people. It was like home. I made a lot of good friends. Everyone had the same problem so it was one big happy family. We had policemen, sanitation workers and two senators. Some of the fellas I cured with were college graduates and they said they didnât have as much fun in college. There were a lot of people my age but most were in the 30âs and 40âs.
HOW DID YOU SPEND YOUR TIME?
It was like a country club. There were pool games and we played bridge two or three times a day. Monday and Tuesday were movie nights. We had spelling bees, amateur nights and golf tournaments. In winter we skated. We had a winter carnival with elections for our own king and queen. We sat out on the porches with long sheepskin coats that went to our ankles. We talked a lot.
DID PEOPLE TALK ABOUT THEIR FEARS?
Some were worried and talked about it but mostly we lived for tomorrow. Now getting back to what we did. Figure skaters used to come from Lake Placid and put on shows. We took long walks; we played golf. I think those were the best days of my life. Raybrook brought me my health and I was happy and contented.
HOW LONG DID YOU CURE?
I was always trying to get the doctors to let me get a real job. Whenever I was ready to leave something would come up and theyâd keep me a little longer. Finally in 1943, after six years, they said, âIf you want to leave, Miss Cleveland wants to hire you as a waiter.â I worked there as a waiter for two years and then another two years in housekeeping. After that for twenty-seven years I worked as an orderly in the operating room until Raybrook was phased out.
The day I moved from the hospital to the employeesâ building was a happy one. I loved my job and I was free. No more rules. No more nurses checking up on my coming and going. It was wonderful. When I went to work in the operating room, I loved it. When the doctors needed something, I got it for them. It was interesting work.
After Raybrook closed, I worked at Will Rogers Hospital for six months until they closed. That was run for business people who had T.B. In the end, they were mostly emphysema patients. They had led fast lives in that business.
In 1971 I commuted to Adirondack Community College for two years to study nursing. It was unusual then for a man to study nursing, but I loved it. When it came time to take the boards, I could do everything easily except the psychiatry parts. I always had a hang-up on psychiatry. I just about gave up. Iâve been working at Uihlein Mercy Center for the Elderly ever since.
HOW DID IT ALTER YOUR EARLY PLANS?
I donât know what I would have done if I hadnât gotten T.B. I had no plans but the sickness really gave me something. It gave me direction. I canât say enough about Raybrook. It put me on my feet. I wish people could have seen Raybrook â it was beautiful. In the early days, it had started out with only platform tents with stoves in the early 1900âs. That was before my time.
DID YOUR SISTER CURE UP HERE?
Not at first. When she first got sick, she went to Perrysburg. She then went to work in a defense plant but had a relapse. Thatâs when she came up here. I think she caught tuberculosis from me before I knew I was sick. I was always sad about that. We were all living together in a small apartment. She died up here. My mother also died up here. I think they both caught it from me. They were very close, my sister and my mother. It was between 1945 and 1947. My mother cured for a very short time and then she died. Mary died a year later.
My cousins lived in the apartment downstairs in Buffalo but they never caught it from me. I guess they had better resistance.
I was sad. I blamed myself. I said, âHow come they died and Iâm still alive.â I also had two very good friends. We used to go fishing. I used to think, âWhy did they die and Iâm still living?â And I was sick! There must be a reason.
DID YOU COME UP WITH AN ANSWER?
No. I stopped asking. Maybe thatâs why I got into nursing. Iâve always liked working around sick people. I could retire, but I love my work. Itâs hard but I love it.
Adirondack Daily Enterprise, February 17, 2009
Adirondack Daily Enterprise, February 17, 2009
Frank Witkowski
Frank F. Witkowski, 88, of 60 Church St., Saranac Lake, died Sunday Feb. 15, 2009 at AMC-Uihlein Center in Lake Placid.
Born in Buffalo on April 10, 1920, he was the son of Frank and Antonina (Czelusta) Witkowski. He married Lena Gareau on May 8, 1946 at St. Peter's Church in Plattsburgh. He was a 1972 graduate of Adirondack Community College in Glens Falls. Mr. Witkowski was a resident of Saranac Lake since 1937, coming to the region to "take the cure" from tuberculosis at Ray Brook State Tuberculosis Hospital. He was one of the longest surviving thoracic surgery patients, one doctor identifying him as a walking medical museum.
Frank was employed as an operating room nursing assistant and nursing assistant at the Ray Brook and Tupper Lake tuberculosis clinic for 32 years. He then worked at Uihlein Mercy Center until his retirement in 1987. After his retirement, Frank provided home health-care assistance and transportation for errands and medical appointments to local residents. Frank was a member of St. Bernard's Church and the Knights of Columbus Council 599 for more than 45 years. He was a fourth-degree knight and served as their financial secretary for more than 25 years. Frank volunteered at the Adirondack Correctional Facility at Ray Brook assisting inmate visitors and was a duplicate bridge club player for many years.
Frank is survived by his daughter Claudia Fennell of Saranac Lake; his son David and wife Catherine of Plattsburgh; three grandchildren: Melanie of Tumwater, Wash. and Frank and Christopher of Plattsburgh; two great-grandchildren: Solomon and Darian of Tumwater, Wash; and cousins in Buffalo and California. He was predeceased by his parents; his wife Lena on June 21, 1991; and one sister, Mary.
Calling hours will take place from 2 to 4 and 6 to 8 p.m. Wednesday, Feb. 18 at the Fortune-Keough Funeral Home in Saranac Lake. A bible vigil service will be held at 3:45 p.m. Wednesday. A Mass of Christian burial will take place at noon Thrusday, Feb. 19 at St. Bernard's Church, with the Rev. Thomas Kornmeyer officiating. Burial will follow at St. Bernard's Cemetery in Saranac Lake.
Friends wishing to remember Frank may make memorial contributions to AMC-Uihlein, the Saranac Lake Adult Center or the American Lung Association in care of the Fortune-Keough Funeral Home.
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