"We rise by lifting others."
- Robert Ingersoll
Stormy Civil Rights years … Granddaughter of enslaved African …
Setting out to study medicine. Setting out to practice healing. Her
Four H’s would be: Hunter, Howard, Harlem—and Healthcare For
All …
Launching private practice—Reagan years—when ketchup
And relish were vegetables … And crack cocaine was pale
White hurricane unleashed on Black communities. ‘Cause
Contras and handlers couldn’t, “Just say, NO!” to profits!
Used to love running up behind her—
147th Street train station stairs—and
Grabbing her bags. Stealing precious seconds of
Her time— walking and talking her to her office …
Used to love living next to someone whose
Work made time elastic. 60 year career—and
Some office hours of dispensing The People
Boxcars of care and kindness ’til Round Midnight
Used to love this opioid arch enemy; diabetes-
Hypertension hater—disguised in
Elegant gold earrings; close cropped ‘fro; cobalt
Blue scarf, ever-ready stethoscope/ruby red tubing
Used to love Black magic medical bag. Ju-Ju warm
Smile. Healing power, peering into brown eyes—
Seeing skilled hands, color of mine. And I could trust
Body and soul to her timbre; her tone; And her tenor
Used to love knowing that her ‘old school’ practice
Would be there to care for Everyday People like me.
Pre-examination, she peppered me with questions—
‘Bout Mom’s medical school/hospital founder legacy
Used to love sneaking Sherlock glances— Searching
For circumstantial evidence of halo … Of wings—of
Celestial dust on a devoted Dr. who, like everyday me,
Traveled by train …
© 2025. Raymond Nat Turner, The Town Crier. All Rights Reserved.
Raymond Nat Turner is a NYC poet; BAR's Poet-in-Residence; and founder/co-leader of the jazz-poetry ensemble UpSurge!NYC. You can Vote for his work at GoFundMe and PayPal.
This week I’m reporting from Caracas, Venezuela.
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