August 26, 2022 - The call was received around midnight at Wyman Roberts Funeral Home. I was alone and upon answering heard an excited male voice stating that his wife was in labor and needed to be rushed to the hospital.
In the summer of 1956 Charlie Lawrence hired me to work for the funeral home. I had previous experience from working at the Oakley Metcalf Funeral Home in Nacogdoches for a year while in college. I suppose he felt that I knew what I was doing around this type establishment.
During this time there were no emergency ambulance services other than that provided by funeral homes. We were no exception. Mr. Lawrence heard the late-night phone call as the phone rang at the funeral home and at his residence as well. He told me to get the ambulance out and ready and he would be there in a few minutes. I was glad that he would be going along as I knew nothing about delivering babies.
We began our call out Highway 21 west to a small frame house on the right just after crossing the creek bridge. Charlie backed the ambulance to the front porch. It was obvious that the woman needed attention pretty quick.
Both of us worked together to get her situated on the cot and into the ambulance. Charlie said, “Neal, you drive and I will get in the back with the patient.” I headed back east toward town.
About two weeks previous to this call, I had made an ambulance run. I came back through Columbia Street with red lights and siren on. Someone had complained to Charlie that they thought I was driving too fast through town. He had discussed this with me and recommended that I not drive so fast in the future. So, with that admonishment in mind, I decided now was not the time to drive fast since the boss was on board.
In a few minutes Charlie rapped on the back glass, “Hey, Neal, go faster.” I could hear the tension in his voice. So, I gave the Pontiac a little more gas. Soon he got my attention again, “Neal, go even faster. We need to get this woman to the hospital.” Again, I pressed down harder on the accelerator. We were going about sixty-five by now. Surely this was fast enough to accomplish our mission.
A few miles from town Charlie yelled out, “Neal, turn on the red lights and siren and step it up even more.” Apparently the woman was about to give birth and Charlie did not want the responsibility of delivering the baby. So, with lights and siren blaring I drove through town again at about the same speed as the time I received the complaint.
We arrived at the hospital just in the nick of time. Charlie did not have to deliver a baby and I was not chided for driving too fast this time. I guess it all depends upon the situation. I don’t recall anyone else ever telling me to drive faster. Usually it was the opposite. That baby would be around 66 years old by now, and would be unaware of the ambulance ride in the summer of 1956.
