The first thing I noticed about Mort when he sat down in my dental chair was his twangy Philadelphia accent. I was never a fan of that dialect but I tried to listen to the content and not the delivery.
Mort had spent eight years as a seaman in the US Coast Guard. He was from Philly (obviously) and he was looking for employment in New York City. He was living in a rooming house near my office in Jamaica, Queens.
We chatted easily as dentists and patients do on the first visit, prior to any serious treatment. He was pleasant and he called me "Sir" many times, which is characteristic of people who have served in the military.
As we engaged in a patient-dentist dialogue, I received a sense he was not telling me the entire story. Why did he leave the Coast Guard? Why didn't he return to Philadelphia to seek a job? He opened a few other avenues that he did not complete.
After three years in practice I thought I had gained a certain insight into people's character. Seeing them in pain often gives one a clear vision of who and what a person is all about.
In some ways I felt like a NYC welcoming committee for Mort. I was new in practice and he was new in the neighborhood. I felt like Grover Whelan, who was the Ambassador of Goodwill for New York City.
Mort left after I examined and charted his mouth and took X-rays. We made an appointment for 10 days in the future. He paid for his visit and said, "so long" and I was happy to have a new patient.
Six days later as I was preparing to leave the office at 6:30 p.m. I received a strange telephone call. It was from Mort. It went something like this - "Dr. Greenberg, I am in jail over at the 101st Precinct. I was only given one phone call for my dime. I just started a job yesterday and I don't want to lose it. Jobs are hard to find. Can you please come to the police station, get the keys to my apartment, get the telephone number of my boss and call him and tell him I won't be in tomorrow. I know that I have just met you but you seemed to be a good guy."
I was stunned. This was truly not in the Dental Handbook of Patient Relations. However, I was young, full of energy and it seemed like a great adventure, so I said, "Yes, I will come down to the jail and get your apartment keys and call your boss."
After I hung up I dialed my wife, Lorraine, and told her to hold supper. I had to do something. Under heavy questioning, I told her of my goodwill mission. She exploded. "You are crazy!" she screamed. My answer was, "I must go, I promised and I am his lone New York friend."
"I am coming with you," was her reply. "You will need protection!"
"OK - be in front of the house. I will pick you up and we will go to the station together," I said.
I snickered at the idea of protection by my newlywed mate, who didn't weigh much over 100 pounds.
To be continued next week....