Chuquicamata February 14,2001
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Graciela Osterberg
  Chuquicamata February 14,2001   Write To The Publisher:
Charles Fisk III
Contributed by Ed & Ton Baumgartner
Charlie, I assume you asked Renee about the Roy H. Glover Hospital. I arrived in Chuqui in Feb of 1958 when the Old Old Hospital was still being used. I worked in the Mine and remember the stone cutters in the bottom of the mine cutting rocks for the wall out of the best Oxide ore we had at the time, for the Roy H Glover Hospital. Our three children were born at the New Hospital, which was a state of the art facility. We visited Chuqui in Oct. 1994, at which time we could see the waste dump encroaching. Dr. Darricades was my father-in-law. At Christmas the two of us would borrow a vehicle from Bob Hamilton of the Mine Geology dept., and deliver Toys to San Pedro, Toconao, Pene, and Socaire ? spelling. He was instrumental in the building of the Medical Clinic in Toconao. The practical nurses stayed in his home while they received training at the Hospital. He installed a short wave radio at the clinic so they could communicate with him. A incident he told me about was the time a shoe box was delivered to his office, it had made the trip from Toconao to Chuqui in a truck, the road was unpaved at that time and the trip took several hours. He looked at the box and thought it was full of Figs, which he didn't like, he went about his business but for some unknown reason had a desire for a fig. He opened the shoe box and found two tiny premature babies, he rushed them to the nursery they were put in incubators, they survived a miracle.


Contributed by Bernie and Helen Fahm
Charles: Helen took your call for some events of Dr.Darricades to heart and wrote this small piece of history about an outstanding man and another great Doctor, MD who left unforgettable tracks in the Atacama desert and influenced so many of the ex-Chuqui people's lives taking care of their health from head to toe. So, here is the story.

Francis Darricades
Every parent in Chuqui received the special attention given to their children by this excellent pediatrician, and in so many cases the doctor delivered their children too; as in our case when our daughter Vangie came to this world in the hands of Dr. Darricades

Years later, in the Summer of 1965, on planning one of our long vacations overseas, Francis exchanged with Bernie ideas about transportation on his and our trips to Europe. They and we ordered the identical V W Campers in Frankfurt, Germany and never discussed about meeting anywhere in Europe as each family had their own interests and would travel separate ways. Driving towards Spain in Southern France near the town of Beziers, we heard our daughter Betty Ann cry out loud:" Look Dad and Mom, Gigi Darricades just went by!" We had seen a V W Camper, just like ours, drive in the opposite direction so we immediately turned around and chased it. Incredible as it was this chanced meeting was celebrated in an outdoor café in Beziers and a memorable photo was taken. In later years we always discussed with the Darricades this remarkable encounter.

When Dr. Darricades retired from his medical career in Chuqui, he and Kay went to live in Key Biscayne, Florida for a while. We always rented a house there during Dec.- Jan., so on our vacation we would see them. On one occasion Francis invited Bernie and Irl Nelson to go sailing; Francis just having gotten his Captain's Rating, enjoyed taking the helm and sailing out of Biscayne Bay. Being still close to shore they got stuck in a sand bank. Irl being tall jumped into the water to push, while Francis and Bernie pushed with the oars. After much grunting they got the boat out of trouble only to repeat the same a second time. Another photo was snapped on this trip!

We shall always remember all those years shared with them in Chuqui with their family, and the quiet and dedicated work Francis gave to the Andean people of Toconao where he established a small clinic which he often visited in his spare time. He left many footprints in that part of the Atacama desert.

As he aged during his retiring years in California, Kay Darricades has always kept a Christmas correspondence with us, letting us know how Francis was doing and sending us pictures of important family events. We cherish those memories, and even though Francis has been gone for several years, he still is very vivid in our minds and hearts.

Con un abrazo, como siempre. Bernie

Contributed by Renee Cox (Irene Darricades)
Kay please be my Valentine!

Alfonso Darricades: A Brief History


Around the turn of the 19th Century, two young people named Gabrielle Buron and Pierre Darricades emigrated with their parents to Chile from small towns near Bordeaux, Gabrielle and Pierre were married and had seven children; six survived, of whom Alfonso was the second oldest.

Born March 30, 1907, in San Felipe, Chile, this son was christened Alphone Emile Léon (as per the French custom of giving their sons three "prénoms," or given names). Alfonso always insisted he had a distinct memory of flags, bunting, etc. as Chile celebrated its centennial in 1910. He would have been three and a half yers old. So...maybe. He liked to think so, anyway.

Alfonso attended the Universidad de Chile in Santiago, graduating in medicine in 1931. (Among the graduates that year was a young man named Salvador Allende.) Since this was during the Depression, Alfonso was prepared to go anywhere for a position that paid more than a pittance. He nearly went south to Punta Arenas, but instead wound up working for the Americans in Chuquicamata, where he gradually added English to the canon of languages in which he became fluent, and where he met a young Canadian nurse named Catherine (Kay) Mullin. They married and eventually had three daughters, all of whom were born in the old hospital in Chuqui. Needless to say, his daughters were all VERY glad Alfonso did not go to Punta Arenas.

When Kay first met Alfonso, she thought his name was "Francis," because, so the story goes, there were several physicians on staff at the time who were of German descent who called Alfonso, "Francés," or "Frenchman." The name stuck, anyway, and for years he was called Francis by the English-speaking community.

Kay and Francis would live in Chuqui until he retired in 1967, with a hiatus from 1944 to 1947 when they went to the United States and Canada. During this time, Francis acquired a fellowship in pediatrics while working at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto.

Their daughters, Constance, Irene (Renee) and Jeanne (Gigi), eventually attended high school in Canada. The oldest, Connie, trained as a nurse but returned to Chuqui to marry a young geologist she had met named Ed Baumgartner. Ed worked in the mine. (In those days there was great rivalry between the mine and the plant, not to mention the earlier rivalry with the American company, Foley Brothers, who built the sulphide plant in the early 1950s). Ed and Connie's children were born at the then-new Roy H. Glover Hospital. These children "christened" their grandfather, "Ito," after their first attempts to say "Abuelito." It was the name by which all his five grandchildren and great-grandchildren, both American and Canadian, would always know him.

Alfonso ("Francis") Darricades had a career with the broad scope of the small-town family practicioner, a practice made unique by the blend of patients, which included chilenos, americanos, and his extended practice among the indigenous people in remote locations of the pampa. He was always curious about life, a man for all seasons whose interests included the humanities. For a time he contributed a column to the newspaper "El Pampa," which was printed on a huge (to his daughters' eyes, anyway), old black printing press on premises opposite the Teatro Chile in the "new camp" (Campamento Nuevo) as it was then known. Alfonso's foray into the arts was under the pen name, Vesalius, after the great 16th century anatomist.

When Alfonso retired, he and Kay moved to California, close to the Baumgartners, where the indefatigable "Francis" pursued a career in real estate. He and Kay enjoyed their San Jose home for over 20 years and celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary before his health failed and he finally entered a nursing home. Even here, Alfonso continued to impart some of his zest to his family members of all generations whenever they visited him.

To the end of his days in 1994, Alfonso remained fascinated with life, never surrendering completely to the confines of old age.

Contributed by Richard A. Dickenson
Hello,
I have been out of commission for a few days in hospital for some surgery. Came home to find your e-mail.
I am glad you will be featuring Dr. Darricades in your publication. Good choice! I am sending you the only photo I have. It shows Dr. and Mrs, Darricades along with Mr. & Mrs. Hankinson, also former Chuquicamatinos, at the Roosevelt Grill of the Hilton Hotel in New York City. Probably taken in the late 40's.
Dr. Darricades took care of me as a baby and young child. I remember him as being a very kind, patient and gentle man who was deeply devoted to his profession and to his family. I am honored and privileged to have known him.
During my early school years in Chuqui, I took my noon meals at the Darricades home which was just across the ravine from Ruth Mac's Foreign School. Ton (Constance) and I were good buddies during those days and I recall one particular time when we were involved in some mischief at a vacationing neighbor's house and thereafter being quietly but severely reprimanded for it by Dr. Darricades. I remember, to this day, how I felt in the aftermath of that scolding and I am sure that the Dr's reprimand served in good stead to curtail all further activities of wrongful behavior on both our parts.
I have many good memories of those "Chuqui Days" and of my friendship with the Darricades family.
Let me know if you can't retrieve the photo and I'll resend.
Saludos,
Richard D.


Finally it is my turn!
I was very happy to learn that after sending inquiries to only three people two came back with wonderful memories. Had I send out a general notice to all the people in our chat room I am sure I would have had so many responses that this article would be impossible to finish! That is the mettle that made Dr. Darricades a true icon.
I spent three times at the "old" hospital and during all those stays I recall the kind faces of Drs. Bradford and Darricades.
I am sure that on my last stay of over three months I almost died and as I lay in my room aside from my parents the nicest visits came from these true healers. I thank them for my life.
When I saw the picture of Dr. Darricades in his full medical garb and I looked at his face, I could not help but to be glad to once more see the kindness in his eyes! It has been a true joy to publish this issue of the Chilex Weekly, which, by the way was part of the original Darricades legacy.

I have tried to recall how the old hospital used to be and I am including a sketch that I made after digging into the memories of the late 1940s.
The hospital was located at the end of the bus stop and quite near to the mine entrance.
The house nearest to the Hospital was the residence of Dr. John Bradford; then, as you went up a hill toward the Chilex Club, you would find the house of Dr. Darricades.
I recall the hospital surrounded by a cement wall. To the left of the main entrance was the Drs. waiting room. The first office at the end of the waiting room corridor was used by Dr. Bradford, and the one right next to it belonged to Dr. Darricades.
Way at the back was the sick ward and maternity. In the center of the Hospital was the "OR" with the laboratory to it's left; by the way Ian Davidson's mother worked in the lab.
Another thing I recall refers to the waiting room: at the entrance was a large closet and inside of it the Drs. kept a human skeleton for study purposes. I do not know if this is true, but legend has it that it belonged to a frenchman that died in Chuqui.
One day several of us went to sneak a peek at the famous skeleton; we were all quite scared but, nevertheless decided to open the closet; much to our dismay the door was jammed, so we pulled and pushed while the skeleton, which was hanging inside was banging against the walls. Finally someone pulled hard and the door swung open, with all the pulling the skeletons right foot came flying out and kicked one of us right in the chin! I never saw a kid run so fast or so scared as the one who received that kick in the chin!


My very best to you all
Charles

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