The Ditch Nurse by Neal Murphy

August 18, 2020 - Every neighborhood needs a nurse, a woman who is always there to doctor the kids’ skinned knees, insect bites, minor cuts, and abrasions that are a part of life in the ‘hood’. When our family lived in Houston, Texas in the early 1970s, a Mrs. Whatley performed this activity in the Westbury neighborhood in which we lived. Through this “asphalt jungle” snaked a drainage ditch which attracted kids of all ages. My pre-teen son, Doug, loved to play with his buddies in this drainage ditch.

My wife and I both worked, so he would come home from school with his older sister, and then devote the rest of the day to important ditch business. It is amazing the number of games that can be played in a drainage ditch such as this. One of Doug’s buddies was Mrs. Whatley’s son, Matthew, about the same age as our son. They spent many hours playing up and down this man-made attractive nuisance. 

Along with the playing generally came minor injuries. Matthew’s mother was always home, and always willing to patch up the kids’ injuries. Thus, she became known as the “ditch nurse.” Most of the mothers of the ditch players appreciated her taking care of their little darlings.

Late one afternoon, my wife and son were driving back home when another vehicle ran a stop sign and hit our car in the passenger door. The accident happened about one block from our home, and right in front of the home of the ditch nurse. Her son, among many others, rushed outside to gawk at the two injured automobiles. Fortunately, only minor injuries resulted from the crash.

While waiting on the police to arrive, Mrs. Whatley walked out on her front porch and hollered, “Matthewwwww……..Matthewwwww……come in this house.” Apparently, there was no response from him this time. Shortly afterward, she appeared again. “Matthewwww……you come right home. You just took a bath and your pores are open. You’ll get pneumonia...!!”

I suppose a “ditch nurse” would be knowledgeable about such things.

Not very long after that incident we moved to Colorado. There was no drainage ditch in our new neighborhood, and consequently no “ditch nurse.” However, we were grateful to our Houston neighbor who kept our kids patched up and their pores closed. Here’s to you, Mrs. Whatley, wherever you are.