THE HUNTS AND THE LOCKHARTS
The Hunt family from Houston and the Lockhart family in Alpine were about as close as two Texas families could be. Their friendship began in the late 1940s when my parents Wilmer and Eugenia Hunt brought their children to the dry climate of West Texas to recover from bouts of winter asthma. The Hunts soon met Dr. Bill Lockhart and his wife Laura Bell who just a few years prior had settled with their nacent family in Alpine following Bill’s participation in WWII. Upon arrival, the Lockharts built with their own hands and those of the community a substantial building composed of a hospital at one end and a warm and friendly home at the other. The hospital later became a clinic. A great many people depended on Bill’s doctoring skills. Quite commonly, when all of us were having dinner together, Bill, being the people’s doctor, would be called out to an emergency. Both he and Laura Bell were much loved in their community. The Hunt family and the Lockhart family each had four kids with a somewhat comparable age-spread, so all of us had at least one contemporary who became a fast friend. Mary Bell and Sperry were inseparable in the ’50s, and we tramped about the landscape from the Big Bend National Park to the Davis Mountains, enjoying many picnics, mountain climbs, and much fun. Around 1952, our mom had a house of her design built on a hill at the edge of town, and we stayed there for most of every summer.
Forgot to mention that the train tracks from New Orleans to California passed right through Houston and Alpine, so it was entirely feasible to take the 12-hour ride when necessary. Remembering those trips through that vast region with all that history, I can still feel the clanking of the rails and recall meals in the dining car, and watching the staff play dominoes after hours. I should also mention that my father travelled the same route as a teenager beginning around 1915 or so. Arriving in Alpine, he and his family would rent “horses and buggies” and drive 25 miles to Fort Davis to vacation during several summers.
From ’61 to ’66, Grainger and Barbara Hunt lived in our summer house while both attended Sul Ross College, and Bill delivered two of their three children. He and Laura Bell remained close friends with all of us who continued for some years afterward to visit Alpine as a favorite spot with favorite friends.
Below is a series of interesting and entertaining Lockhart family stories to give you some examples of who these wonderful people were (and are) and their joyful presence in their community.
Sperry and Grainger Hunt 2/20/2021
And now Lolly Lockhart’s tales of Alpine:
What Makes A Veterinarian?
By Lolly Lockhart Ph D RN
Several years ago there was an article in the Leader Times entitled “Medical doctor’s kindness directed Swatzell into the world of medicine.” The article reported an interview with a veterinarian, Dr. Monte Swatzell, who had practiced in Cleburne for 45 years and was retiring. One of the questions asked of the retiring vet was “What inspired you to become a vet?” One of my friends from Graham forwarded the article to me knowing that the story would be of great interest.
It seems that in 1939 the steep road was being cut next to and up to Mount Lock for access in order to build the McDonald Observatory near Fort Davis. The work crew lived in mobile homes at the base of the incline and in Fort Davis. The head of the construction crew had a sixth grade son, Monte, who had a bird dog named Brownie. One day Monte found Browne having a seizure on the back porch. The father asked around Fort Davis where he could locate a vet to care for the sick dog. He was advised that there was not a vet in the area; however, a new doctor in Alpine might be willing to help out.
The mother called Dr. Bill Lockhart and explained their concern about the dog and the distress of their son about the sick dog. Dr. Lockhart, feeling great concern primarily but not entirely for the sixth grader, made a house call on location from Alpine. He concluded that the dog had been poisoned by strychnine and treated him accordingly. He spent time with the little boy telling him what to do to help the dog get well. The dog survived and brought great joy to the little boy. The encounter also built confidence and inspiration for the little boy that he could make a difference in his dog’s wellbeing.
That little boy became the vet. He stated at retirement that he would never forget the caring that Dr. Lockhart had for his dog and the doctor’s patience in telling him what to do for the dog. It was then that he decided he wanted to be a vet and thus dedicated his life to caring for the animal world.
Over the years, Dr. Lockhart made many house calls to area ranches to help manage the stock until there were veterinarians in the area. In return, he had standing invitations to hunt deer and cut firewood. He always maintained a supply of medication to treat pet poisonings.
Dr. Monte Swatzell, lives in Cleburne with his wife Joyce. In 1987, the Swatzells and several of his brothers returned to Fort Davis for the 50th reunion at the McDonald Observatory. They love the area, Fort Davis and the Big Bend. During that visit, Dr. Swatzell visited with Dr. Lockhart’s wife, Lora Bell Lockhart, as Dr. Lockhart had recently passed away.
Rattlesnake Stories
By Lolly Lockhart Ph D RN
In the late 1950’s, local teenagers, Don Burgess and Grainger Hunt, became very interested in rattlesnakes. They made “snake sticks” out of a pole with a strong loop at one end that could be tightened to control the snake at a safe distance. Numerous snakes were captured and often brought to Lolly Lockhart, another teen, to skin. Lolly made belts, billfolds and other items with the skins.
On one occasion, our group was at a party at the Brown’s Cathedral Mountain Lodge South of town off the Terlingua highway. During the event, Grainger caught a rattlesnake and had it in a feed sack. After midnight, when he arrived at his home, his mother Eugenia Hunt refused to let him keep the snake at her home. He came down to Dr. Lockhart’s office, and came through the office door to the residence and knocked on Room 2, my bedroom. He said he needed some place to put the rattlesnake until tomorrow. Half asleep, I said, “Well, put it in the hamper just inside the door,” which he did. The next morning I woke up thinking I had dreamed about Grainger bringing the snake. I cautiously went over to the hamper and lifted the lid carefully with my hairbrush, and the snake in the bag began to rattle.
Later that day, Grainger came by to get the snake. Under my dad’s supervision we turned the snake out in the alleyway and took 8 mm movies in slow motion of the snake striking at a mop. Grainger later took the snake to Houston where the snakes are milked for venom.
On a Burgess/Lockhart family outing/picnic to the Cathedral Lodge, Don Burgess caught a snake and we skinned it and decided to put the meat in a cooler and get our mothers, Merlyn Burgess and Lora Bell Lockhart, to cook it for us later. They found the snake and decided that was not what they were going to do, so we did not get to taste rattlesnake meat that we heard tasted like chicken.
Another snake story occurred on one of our trips to Balmorhea for a swim. On the way there, I found a snake dead on the road (DOR, as we would say) and placed it on the bumper of the 1952 Ford that had a lip to hold it. On the way home, we stopped for gas in Fort Davis. In the middle of the man pumping gas, I remembered the snake, and hopped out to see if it was still there. When I pointed the snake out to the man pumping gas within inches of the snake’s body, he turned white as a sheet and immediately pulled the pump away and I got no more gas.
Dr. Bill Lockhart became an expert in diagnosing and treating rattlesnake bites. He discovered that putting the limb with the bite in ice would stop the enzyme action and he published as article to that effect in Current Therapy. He later discovered that when the ice is removed and the tissue warmed up, the enzyme would be reactivated. So he expanded on his recommended treatment and determined that the ice was only a temporary measure. He also discovered that the puncture wounds from a snake bite can be misleading and appear to be minor, when in fact the snake may have place a significant amount of venom in the tissue that would begin to destroy the tissues. He concluded that every snake bite needed to be excised to determine if there was evidence of venom needing to be surgically removed. He became a key witness in lawsuits involving the treatment of rattlesnake bites.
Remembering the Past
By Lolly Lockhart Ph D RN
This past year one of my nursing students mentioned that she shared with her elderly neighbor that one of her instructors was from Alpine and her dad was a doctor. The neighbor replied, “You must mean Lolly Lockhart!” Thus, I was able to reconnect with Doreen Gillespie.
Doreen and her husband, Dr. James Gillespie, and two daughters lived in Alpine for about year around 1958-1960. James, an entomologist, taught biology at Sul Ross and Doreen became good friends with my parents, Dr. Bill and Lora Bell Lockhart. James was waiting to hear about his acceptance to work on a grant at Harvard, that he was granted, thus their short stay. Doreen was a character as anyone who remembers her will attest.
In October of this past fall, I was heading down to check out the Salt Lick as a possible site for Alpine in Austin 2012* (It was too expensive!) so I invited Doreen to go along with me. Doreen was about 96 years young, “thin as a rail and sharp as a tack”! All day she told me funny stories about her time in Alpine. I have to share the funniest one.
James was a Lutheran, but attended the Presbyterian Church, so became good friends with my Mother who was also a regular attendee, played the organ and sang in the choir. My dad most often held office hours Sunday morning for the ranch hands, as that was the only day they could bring their families in for medical care. This particular Sunday, Mother and James were at church and my dad was working in the emergency room at the hospital – the old facility on the Loop road. Doreen decided it would be a good day to saddle up Gypsy, our horse, and go for a ride. She dressed up in her cowgirl boots, tight black riding pants, fringed jacket, ponytail, and cowgirl hat.
Since the only place with any activity on Sunday morning was the hospital, she headed that way. As she rode up in the drive by the ER, someone came running out exclaiming “Doreen, go to the Presbyterian Church and get so-and-so, we need him to give blood right now. Dr. Lockhart had set up a “walking blood bank” that included the names and blood type of anyone in town who would let him check their blood type, so they could be called in to donate fresh blood as needed. Doreen and Gypsy headed to the church. Doreen tied Gypsy up outside the door, and went in. She walked down the isle, spotted so-and-so and signaled him to come, which he did. She sent him to the hospital and followed on Gypsy. As soon as she arrived, there was another urgent assignment, as another person was also needed from the Presbyterian Church. She said three time she pulled people from the church service to give blood.
There was a practice at that time if someone gave blood that they should receive a shot of whiskey to “rebuild their blood supply” or, more likely, to entice cowboys to give blood. At any rate, Doreen said they claimed they had given each of the donors a shot of whiskey, and decided that since she had brought them in, she deserved a shot as well, and gave her three shots. She said after that she was glad Gypsy knew her way back home!
The next day, Doreen got a call from the preacher, Rev. Clanton Newbill. He said, “Doreen, I want to talk with you about your retrieving my parishioners from the service on Sunday.” Then he laughed and said, “I know what you were up to. I want to know how did the patient do?” Doreen replied with her dry wit, “ I think he got too much of that Presbyterian blood because he died.” She said the preacher started to laugh, then caught himself, as it was not appropriate to laugh that the person died.
I called Doreen after New Years in anticipation of more funny Alpine stories only to find that her phone was disconnected and her jeep not in the garage. I learned that she had a stroke several weeks after our fun outing, and died in November. I miss her, but what a joy it was that we had that time to reconnect and to recall the 1950’s in Alpine.
* “Alpine in Austin” is a gathering of ‘all who ever lived in Alpine or wished they had’. The gatherings were held for about ten years in the 1980’s and will be held again March 17, 2012. For information contact Lolly at Lollylock.gmail.com or 512-699-6055
As an end note: As a child, I recall the “giving a shot of whiskey after giving blood,” but always interpreted it to be a joke. I Goggled “shot of whiskey donating blood,” and the fifth hit was a World War II veteran who mentioned that during the War whenever a soldier gave a pint of blood for a buddy he or she was awarded a shot of whiskey. Dr. Lockhart worked in a MASH type hospital on the front line during the War and that is likely from where the idea of a shot of whiskey came. I question whether the donors actually received a shot – not likely, but Doreen likely did!
Bobby Hansen
By Lolly Lockhart Ph D RN
I am working on the Bobby story. I recall and confirmed by Paul Weyerts DVM that Paul was at a filling station visiting with a friend when Bobby’s friend came up distressed and told what happened and that Bobby was on the side of the mountain. Paul called DI and put the rescue in motion. Paul said that DI climbed up side of the cliff with his pocketknife and stethoscope. Paul tried to carry the suitcase but it was too heavy and he could not even make it up the mountain. So DI would have used the pocket knife and stethoscope alone to do the trach and torn off part of a shirt to hold the tube in place. Paul said that Bobby’s friend got several SR football players and other friends to carry Bobby off the mountain. (I had always thought that DI did that) but Paul said they were all involved and helping. Then I remember his being kept in Room 6 and SR students sat with him 24 hours as he was thrashing about for several days (weeks?) until the swelling went down.
Years later, I came upon Bobby and his German wife on the road to the Park and they had run out of gas. I went and got gas for them. Then even more years later, when I was doing Alpine in Austin and they printed my address in the Avalanche, I received a post card, probably still have it) that just said “If you are related to Dr Lockhart, he saved my life. Bobby Hansen”
I think his or her family did ranching near Midland and Odessa and that was where they lived and visited from time to time in Alpine. I do wonder where he is now.
There was another case of DI carrying a SR student down from Twin Sisters. Do you remember anything about that? Was it someone hiking with Bill and Charles?
A Lot of Bull
By Lolly Lockhart Ph D RN
By 1956, Dr. Bill Lockhart had converted the Lockhart Hospital (built after World War II next door to the First Presbyterian Church) to the Lockhart Clinic. The West half of the building next to the alley was for his office practice, and the family residence was in the East portion. The external doors and interior doors to the rooms of the building were extra wide to accommodate the hospital beds and other “large objects.” The Xray equipment was placed in the former Delivery Room at the back of the office. The stage is now set.
One of the local ranchers had a bull that had injured his right hip. The concern was how best to manage the situation and that required knowing whether the hip was fractured or just bruised. So the decision was made to Xray the bull’s hip. The rancher and Dr. Lockhart explored possible approaches to getting that done.
Dr. Nilon Tallant had just finished his internship and was waiting to join the U.S. A. F. medical corp and, at the time, was practicing with Dr. Lockhart and participated in the Bull’s Xray procedure. He does not remember if the bull was medicated or blindfolded to reduce the likelihood of the bull going amok in a strange environment. There may have been a tarp placed on the polished cement floor to reduce the likelihood of the bull slipping. Who knows?
The bull was led into the Clinic through the back door off the alley and into the Xray room on the right. He was positioned in front of the plate on the wall used for chest Xrays. The level of the plate was adjusted to the height of the bull’s right hip and the Xray machine adjusted to come in at the correct angle to view the hip. A series of Xrays was taken. The bull was backed out of the room and out of the clinic without any problem.
Dr. Tallant does not remember whether or not the bull had a fracture, but this was another unique event in the frontier medical practice of Dr. Lockhart. Dr. Paul Weyerts, long time veterinarian in Alpine, remembers lots of dogs and other small animals being Xrayed, but did not recall the “bull story”. It is a true story as I was in high school at the time and recall that evening being told of the event….”You had a what in the office?”Search for:
