For a print edition, please contact the editor of our Special Publications, Jennifer Mertz.

STORY INDEX

Introduction

Service still most important product at Ligonier Telephone Co.

A black and white sensation: Tiny Screens a big attraction in early years of television

A man works from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done

Indiana Extension Homemakers better the lives of families

How to be a good wife

The show goes on at The Strand: Kendallville theater survives decades of changes in the movie business

Some movies forgettable, but not Cleon Point: Memories of colorful, longtime Strand Theatre manager live on

Small towns once supported their own movie theaters

'You'd see everyone there': Kendallville residents have lasting memories of teen hangouts old and new

Links of land and lakes: County, state officials worked together to establish Chain O' Lakes State Park

William Jennings Bryan among among orators at Rome City's Western Chautauqua

Dr. David Rogers - Man of mystery, and benevolence

DNR restoration programs working: Once abundant wildlife returning to area

Rise of girls athletics have changed face of school sports

Decades of intramurals:
Before the '70s, girls had limited athletic opportunities

Ford Frick was reared on Noble county's sandlots: Baseball executive always considered himself a 'lucky fan'

Ruth was greatest player ever: Frick

Frick's predictions for 2000 not far off

Small Wolf Lake big winner in 1942 basketball regional

Four in a row: Finally with a gym of their own, KHS cagers went to 'Sweet 16' four straight years

Ink to flow into 21st century at county's newspapers

Broadcast media: Manahan was pioneer in Noble County broadcasting

WAWK's history dates back to 1959

Soundwaves from the past: Ligonier museum has one of the largest collections of antique radios in U.S.

Health trends: Changes through the century occurred in medicine, health care

Scarlet fever, polio were early health scares

From sanitarium to partnership: A century of Noble County's medical care

Funeral directors ran ambulance service in county prior to '74

'EMS arrives in time for '74 tornado

LaGrange County doctors once made house calls by horseback

Country doctor delivered babies in his home and drove a Thunderbird

Service to mankind condensed to footnotes of history

Lengthy Mier-Straus rivalry ended with bank merger : German-Jewish immigrants had impact on Ligonier's history

Who are the people of the Amish faith?

A place to live, farm, worship, and raise families: Amish began settling in LaGrange, Elkhart counties in 1840

Two controversial religious sects from the 1970's have impact on Noble County

Churches with rich heritages served parishioners in LaOtto, Ege

Country doctor delivered babies in his home and drove a Thunderbird


By NATALIE HESS
The News-Sun

 

Albion's Dr. Justin Russell Nash was not your typical kind of country doctor in the early and middle decades of the 20th century.

He was not your horse-and-buggy kind of guy, the image most associate with a rural doctor. This doctor delivered babies in his home and drove a two-seater Thunderbird.

Nash was never a healthy man. He battled allergies and the disabling effects of a youthful bout with scarlet fever.

"Most of the time his patients were healthier than he," says Linda Shultz about her dad. "He loved to eat. He ate anything."

The community regarded Nash as a jolly, good-natured fellow, according to Shultz.

"He was nice and always fair. He set a good example for children," says Shultz. "When I get to talking with people over 35, they'll often say, 'Well, I'm one of Dr. Nash's babies.' He is known for that."

Nash and his wife, Gladys, moved to Albion in 1931. He had attended the University of Illinois and gone to medical school in Chicago. He worked at a train station while attending medical school and met his wife, who owned a beauty shop, at a dance.

They were married on June 8, 1929, the same afternoon that Nash graduated from medical school.

The couple moved to Plymouth, while Nash interned in South Bend. The first opportunity to practice medicine came in 1931 in Albion.

Nash's office was located within the family's home at 202 N. Orange St. Numerous families and community members visited the home. People were born and died in the house.

"I think he was the best baby doctor around. He delivered all five of mine," says Shultz.

It was in the midst of the Great Depression when Nash opened his Albion office. Some of his customers paid him with chickens and produce. Shultz still has payment notices from customers who never paid the doctor for his services.

The doctor packaged and prescribed all of his own medicines. He never administered paregoric. He had been forced to take the bitter potion as a young child and promised to never force it upon another human being.

When Nash practiced medicine, his office was open all day on Saturdays. That was the day farmers came to town. During summers, the office was open Wednesday nights as well. The downtown square in Albion hosted concerts on Wednesdays. Country folks gathered in town for concerts and doctor visits.

"My brother and I liked going on calls with him," says Shultz, who remembers nailing signs to the fronts of houses with her father. The signs signified homes of people sickened by contagious diseases such as scarlet fever.

When Nash sold medicine out of his house, a "no touch" policy ruled his two children.

"Now they have kid-proof everything," Shultz says.

Nash also had a passion for movies, his daughter said. He filmed life in Noble County, using an eight-millimeter camera. He spliced the film and manufactured full-length home movies.

Nash died on Nov. 24, 1965. He was only 64. He had served as Noble County health officer for 25 years, and was president of the Noble County Medical Society at the time of his death.

Shultz thinks her father would be amazed at the progress of medicine today. Because of his specialization with infant deliveries, Shultz says he would be fascinated with ultrasound and 24-hour release programs.

"I always stayed in bed a week after childbirth. Then Dad would only let me go because I was crying and pleading," remembers Shultz.

Computers would amaze the doctor as well, she said. Shultz's mother, Gladys, who was Nash's receptionist, used an old typewriter like those showcased in museums.

Shultz never desired to be a nurse. Her brother, Ronald, never became a doctor though his father encouraged him to do so.

But Shutlz's father loved his chosen profession and never regretted entering it.

"He told me he had watched a cow being milked when he was a young boy,'' said Shutlz. ''He vowed right then he would never become a farmer.''