To celebrate the 30th anniversary of Three Mile Island, here is an example of how my well-spoken mother has an eternally grateful spirit.
*I had to edit out a few details for privacy sake.
March 23, 2009
Dear Dr. Schinfeld:
This letter is 30 years overdue. I am so happy to have found you on the internet, as it is intended for your father, as well, whose contact I have lost.
On March 30, 1979 my husband Frank, 22-month-old son Brian and I left our home in Middletown, PA, and drove to my brother’s and sister’s-in-law home in Melrose Park. It was the due date of my second child, and we were fleeing the accident at Three Mile Island. We could see the tops of the cooling towers from our front porch, three miles away.
At a PA Turnpike rest stop, my husband telephoned my obstetricians to tell them of our decision and to ask them to send my medical records to your father’s practice. The doctor reassured my husband that it was not necessary to leave, but we had already decided and were on our way. You see, my sister-in-law Claire, who was a patient in your father’s practice, had called his office and asked if they would accept me as a patient, under the circumstances. They said yes, without hesitation. To this day, I am amazed and overwhelmed by the compassion and generosity they offered a complete stranger.
At the time, my brother Bill and his wife lived in a five-bedroom home, did not have children of their own and worked full time during the day. They, too, welcomed us with open arms and hearts. Because I did not give birth for two weeks, I had the opportunity to meet the doctors, and they me — this Irish Catholic 28-year-old who grew up on Staten Island, NY. Around midnight April 11, after watching the 11 o’clock news and retiring to bed, labor began. Frank and I drove through empty, dark streets to Albert Einstein Hospital. It was the first night of Passover, and your father had just returned home from a Seder when he received the call. It was a peaceful birth, despite the events leading up to it. Your father stayed with me all night, occasionally resting on a cot in the next room. At 6:35 a.m. April 12, our beautiful daughter, Laura Elizabeth, was born.
Laura will celebrate her 30th birthday on Easter this year, four days after the first night of Passover. She is happily married to a community organizer in Camden, lives in South Philly and will earn her master’s degree in urban studies from Temple this May. She is a lovely woman with a good heart. I have enclosed her wedding photo. Brian lives in Glenside, PA, with his wife Bridgette and their son. Brian works full time and will receive his MBA from Villanova at the end of the year.
My husband and I moved to Carlisle, PA, in March 1981. It was horrible having to return to Middletown with a toddler and an infant, and after many anxious days and sleepless nights we left the area as soon as we could sell our home. God has been good to us. I hope the same is true for your father and you.
I can tell from reading your profile on your practice’s web site that you are among your father’s admirers, of whom there must be legions. How interesting that you are in a similar field. My brother and his wife are now awaiting their first grandchild, who is due in June. Although Bill and Claire moved to Rhode Island many years ago, their son, his wife and soon-to-be baby live in Drexel Hill.
I can hardly find the words to express my deepest appreciation to your father and his colleagues who rescued my family and me from an extraordinary, terrible event. Despite the inexcusable lateness of this letter, please know that I have held them in my heart and prayers all these years. May God bless and keep you all.
In humble gratitude,
(my mom)
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