Three weeks ago, I wrote about the remarkable medical career of Dr. Claude Collins. His wife, Winifred Poindexter Collins, had an equally demanding life as spouse, mother, all-around medical assistant and family protector in the Tennessee mining community of Wilder. She was with Doctor every step along his storied career, which concluded in Monterey, Tennessee.
Nicknamed “Sug,” for “Sugar,” she had married Doctor in 1927. Before her marriage, she had completed nurse’s training in Georgia and Memphis. After brief stops in mining camps at Crawford and Davidson, they arrived in Wilder with a young son in late 1932. A second son arrived soon after this move. This would be home until 1946.
Dr. Clif CleavelandWilder was in the throes of violent labor unrest. Unionized workers and replacement miners hired by the mine owner repeatedly clashed. Many evenings were punctuated with gunfire. Men were shot from ambush. At least one murder occurred. Bullets struck the medical office. Doctor was shot in the leg on one occasion when he stopped to give aid to a wounded man at a roadside. For a time, a National Guard unit patrolled the community.
Because of hospitality that Sug showed to newspaper reporters from Nashville – they were subsisting on chocolate bars – protesters threatened to dynamite her family’s home. An armed guard accompanied her on most errands until the strike was settled. A sentinel protected her home at night: “a mountain man who could walk without breaking a twig.” On one occasion, Sug took an ill son to Nashville for a consultation with a pediatrician. An outbreak of violence made their return too dangerous, so she had to remain in the capital city for several days.
Legends grew around Sug’s actions in Wilder:
A rooster repeatedly crowed in her backyard throughout early morning hours, and the fowl attacked the flowers in Sug’s garden. One morning, she had had enough. She loaded a revolver, planning to frighten the bird. Just as she fired, the rooster raised its head, taking the round in its eye. Word of her feat spread and assured Sug’s reputation as a marksman who should not be crossed.
Doctor Collins often needed Sug’s help with deliveries, sometimes to administer an anesthetic. On one occasion at a cabin deep in a forest, Sug noted bedbugs crawling over the patient’s pillow. She briefly moved the anesthetic mask from patient to pillow to disable the pests until they could be brushed away after the delivery was accomplished.
On another occasion, when Doctor had to travel to Nashville for the day, Sug delivered a baby in a miner’s cabin. The patient had declined transfer by ambulance to a hospital.
When needed, Sug provided bedside care to patients whose illnesses or injuries restricted them to their homes. Once, Sug and Doctor worked for hours with every tool at their disposal to save the life of a child with pneumonia. This was before the advent of antibiotics and ICUs.
Doctor and Sug had little time to themselves. Whenever Sug drove to Livingston for supplies, one particular male resident insisted on hitching a ride with her. Whatever her destination, he insisted on riding along. Once, as she drove back to Wilder, her nemesis stood along the roadside, thumbing for a lift. She decided to give him the ride of his life. She drove the 25 miles of graveled road at high speed, sliding around corners, creating clouds of dust. She reached Wilder in 35 minutes. The man later stated that he prayed that if he reached home alive, he would never again bother Sug for a ride.
In 1946, Sug convinced Doctor that Wilder’s economy was dying and that it was time to move. They settled in Monterey, where Doctor entered partnership with another physician. The doctors built the town’s first hospital. Long hours, many patients, exhausting night calls, often with Sug at the wheel while Doctor napped on the back seat – this was the urban life of the devoted couple. Doctor and Sug retired in 1975. Doctor died in 1980. Sug died in 1995.
Gentleness, wisdom, compassion and courage characterized the Doctor’s wife.
Clif Cleaveland, M.D., is a retired internist and former president of the American College of Physicians. Email him at ccleaveland@timesfreepress.com.