As I Recall



The Autobiography




Marshall Harding Buchman, M.D.








August 2007 Draft



Chapter One

pre-Teen and Teenage years


I was born on 22 July 1924 at the Lutheran Hospital in Fort Wayne Indiana.  My parents were Dessie Virginia Harding Buchman and Ross Alfred Buchman.  My grandparents were Robert (deceased) and Cora Bell Harding, and Margaret Jane and Alfred Ossman Buchman.  The attending physician was James C. Cowan, M.D. of New Haven, Indiana.


The first eighteen years of my life were spent in and near Fort Wayne.  Early on we lived on Stophlet Street, then briefly with my paternal grandparents at 2610 Smith Street.  In 1929, when I was about five years old, we moved to 2415 Weisser Park Avenue. 


I attended James H. Smart elementary school.  The principal was Robert C. Harris. 


22 July 1937.  My 13th birthday.  My dad took me to the Fort Wayne airport where he bought a flight for me in a Ford Tri-Motor airplane.  He stayed on the ground.  I remember looking out over the city.  I would not fly in an airplane again for more than fifty years.


In the Spring of 1939, my grandmother Buchman’s uncle, Richard Gotleib Foss, or Uncle Dick, came to live with my grandparents.  He would tell me stories of his time serving in the Civil War, of seeing President Lincoln and often ask, “Is H. V. Kaltenborn, a radio newscaster and commentator of that time, on yet?”


7 June 1939.  I was promoted from the James H. Smart elementary school to South Side High School. 


1 September 1939.  Age 15.  I was at Eldred and Lillian Sherrick’s cottage at Lake Atwood with my parents when we all learned that Germany had invaded Poland.


The South Side High School principal was R. Nelson Snider.  Interests I listed on my educational transcript were medicine and law.  The last three years I was a member of the school rifle team.  I made the team, shot 99 out of 100 and earned an athletic letter.





7 December 1941.  Age 17.  A lazy Sunday afternoon, laying on the living room floor, home listening to the radio and reading the comics in the Sunday newspaper when we heard the bulletin on the radio that the Japanese had just bombed Pearl Harbor.


In my senior year of High School, I took and passed an examination for an Army sponsored two-year course in meteorology at Kenyon College in Ohio.  I was accepted into the program, but in order to enroll, I would have had to drop out of High School prior to completing my senior year.  If I failed the meteorology course, then I would have been in the Army without a High School diploma, and likely sent directly to the front.  I was advised that there was a chance there would not be a need for another enrollment into the meteorology program, but my decision was to finish High School.


Later in my senior year, I took and passed an examination for the Army Specialized Training Program (A.S.T.P.)


3 June 1943.  Age 18.  I received my Selective Service Induction Notice to appear at the induction center two weeks later.


11 June 1943.  I graduated from South Side High School ranking 93rd in a class of 430 students. 


16 June 1943.  I reported to an Army Induction Center in Toledo, Ohio.  I was sworn into service of “Uncle Sam” with Army Serial number 35557209. 


My next stop was Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indianapolis Indiana.


Chapter Two

A.S.T.P and Basic Training


(The following two chapters are from a typewritten record which
I wrote in the Philippines in 1945, near the end of the war,
and which I reviewed, extended and revised in 2003.)



30 June 1943.  We arrived at Fort Benjamin Harrison, near Indianapolis, at about 8:00 p.m.  First trip was to the dispensary for a medical exam.  Then we were assigned to our barracks and went to the mess hall for a late dinner where we found a feast of cake, coffee and beans.  Of the fifty some draftees in the group I was with, I was the only A.S.T.P. prospect. 


My first week was spent getting equipment, getting shots and exams, and pulling details.  As I had been assigned to the company supplying the K.P. (Kitchen Patrol) detail, I was on K.P. three times that first week.


7 July 1943.  I was called to the company headquarters and told to pack my equipment in preparation for catching a train at 0915.  Upon arriving at a higher headquarters, I was told that I would be an acting corporal to lead sixteen other A.S.T.P.s via train to Saint Louis, Missouri where we could change trains for Camp Hood, Texas.


We left Fort Benjamin Harrison via the New York Central railroad and arrived in Saint Louis about 1600.  We were informed there would be a six hour wait for the next train.  Some of the group toured areas in and around the railroad station, while I waited inside hoping they would all return on time, which to my great relief they did..  At about 2200 hours we boarded the Saint Louis and Southwestern “Fast Freight through the Southwest.”  Over one stretch of about seven hours, we covered a distance of about 180 miles (an average of about 26 miles per hour); not even fast enough to stir up a breeze.


10 July 1943.  We arrived at Camp Hood in the early morning.  It was to be one of the hottest days I have ever experienced.  Of course we were rushed to the dispensary for more shots and another examination.  Naturally it rained for the first time in several months – or so the natives told us. 


When we initially saw the camp sign, “Home of the Tank Destroyers,” I felt that if the specialized training I had signed up for was to be destroying German tanks, then I had made a very bad choice indeed.  It turned out we would be stationed there only for the Army’s standard Basic Training. 


After a 14-day quarantine, during which I turned 19-years old, we of the 126th TDRTC Battalion, Company A, began our basic training – hikes, classes, details, rifle ranges, bayonet training, bivouacs and military code were all liberally scattered through the course.  Some of our N.C.O.s (Non Commissioned Officers) could not get it through their thick skulls why the government should want to take us out of school, train us for the military, and then send us back to school again.  It seemed as if they made things as rough for us as they could.  We, however, managed to take all that they dared throw at us, and still kept a high morale.  Their roughness really kept us on our toes.  That summer remains in my memory as the hottest three months I have ever experienced.


After the three-day infiltration course, the dirty fighting course, the demolition course, and the Nazi village course had all been run, we were through with Basic Training.  We were in top condition then.  But for the next two months we just sat around and awaited for our assignment to some college or university.  Earlier A.S.T.P.s had gone to Illinois, California, Pennsylvania and Texas.  We were scheduled to ship out 1 November 1943, but a train wreck elsewhere postponed our trip for one more day.


2 November 1943.  After leaving Camp Hood, as our train wended its way northward, we all breathed a sigh of relief to be out of Texas.  As we left Saint Louis, our train was split into two groups.  About half went to Purdue University, while the half I was on went to Champaign-Urbana, home to the University of Illinois.


4 November 1943.  I enrolled at the University of Illinois where I would spend the best four and one-half months of my time in the Army.  Our quarters were a former Chi Phi fraternity house that had been leased to the government.  Our mess hall was a converted ice skating rink.  The food and living conditions were excellent.  There were about 3,600 G.I.s on campus and from my standpoint we were treated just swell by both the people of Champaign-Urbana and faculty of the University.  The A.S.T.P. program, to the best of my knowledge, was to have been a two-year basic engineering course. 


Between terms (from 31 January to 6 February 1944) we were given furloughs.  At that time, for holiday breaks, and every other opportunity I could, I went home via the Illinois Central to Chicago, and the Pennsylvania railroad to Fort Wayne.  March 1944 brought rumors that the A.S.T.P. program was going to be cancelled.  Serious studying ground to a halt as we all waited for the rumors to be confirmed —and they were.


23 March 1944.  Some 800 former A.S.T.P.ers left the University of Illinois and were sent by rail to, of all places, Camp Polk, Louisiana where the 8th Armored Division was in the last few weeks of two-months worth of maneuvers.  Six hundred of us were absorbed into the 8th Armored Division, and the other two hundred of us, including me, were only attached — awaiting assignment to some other God forsaken place. 


A favorite slogan of older members of the “Thundering Herd” Division was, “You should have been on the “D” series!”  Then they would launch into some tale of how rough the D series training was.  They thought that the only Army life that we knew was inside of a classroom.  They had no idea that all of us had already completed the Army’s Basic Training program. 


Maneuvers were cold, dreary and damp and it was at Camp Polk that I first learned to really enjoy a hot cup of coffee.  The two hundred of us not assigned to the 8th Armored Division departed Camp Polk via train through Texarkana to Camp Maxey, Texas.


23 April 1944.  Camp Maxey.  We were assigned to the newly activated 1268th Combat Engineer Battalion.  I was assigned to C Company and after a week’s rigorous training I was given the job of stock clerk in the supply room.  This was by no means a hard job, physically speaking, so I took to it like a duck to water.  I had put in a request for just such a slot in my initial interview with the company commander because my father, Ross Buchman, had been a regimental supply sergeant in World War I and had advised me that supply was a good duty. 


In early June 1944, I received my PFC (Private First Class) stripe.  I was given a furlough from 4 July 1944 to 19 July 1944 and went home to Fort Wayne.  Several times later I was able to get home on “extended” three-day passes (three serial three day passes for a total of nine days leave.  These were a gift from the company commander that stretched the Army’s policy on passes a bit).  The last of these ran through the 4 November 1944 election.  


Camp Maxey was not a bad camp as camps go and the town of Paris, Texas was only about seven miles away.  Most of us received passes into town almost every night unless the company had a “night problem” (meaning training for fighting in the dark).  Being in supply, I was usually given passes into town on those nights as well.


The hardest time for those of us in supply was the time of preparation for going overseas.  We were responsible for seeing that we had all of our company equipment, that it was in good condition, and that each man in the company had a full issue of equipment in good condition. 


27 November 1944.  We left Camp Maxey via train and arrived at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey on 30 November 1944.  We were at Camp Kilmer for seven days, and several sleepless nights, checking and rechecking the equipment to be as certain as we could that we were overseas ready.  I did receive one overnight pass to New York City and visited Pennsylvania Station, Broadway and Times Square.


8 December 1944.  We boarded the H. M. S. Dominion Monarch, an English ship, and sailed from the States toward the war in the early hours of 9 December 1944.  Our group was assigned to three lowest decks where, as the company commander told us upon boarding, we would, “Eat, sleep, and shit for the next two weeks.” 


For fourteen days we rode the ship, or rather it rode us.  The quarters were lousy and the food was even worse.  Some slept on the tables in the dining room, others in hammocks.  Porridge for breakfast.  Salt water showers.  The PX had only Reese’s Cups. 


We were the largest ship in the convoy, which left us all a bit concerned until we arrived safely at Southampton, England.

Chapter Three

World War Two; Europe and the Pacific



21 December 1944.  Landed at Southampton, England and went the following day via train to Gloucester to occupy a former British Home Guard Base.  We would be stationed there until 9 April 1945.  Gloucester was a typical English town with fish markets, pubs and, of course, WAFS (Female British servicewomen). 


2 January 1945.  The company armorer got caught by M.P.s in town and was demoted back to private.  I was appointed as the new company armorer, promoted to Technician Fifth Grade and sent to armorer’s school in Plymouth, England.  There I learned the various mechanisms and how to disassemble and reassemble all of the company’s weapons including, bazookas, 50 caliber air cooled machine guns, 30 caliber water cooled machine guns, M1 rifles, carbines, “grease guns,” and 45 caliber automatics. 


With the Germans making advances in the Battle of the Bulge in Europe (wearing US GI uniforms, changing road signs and the like) NCOs from the Fighting 69th came to Gloucester to provide everyone below the rank of Corporal with a quick Infantry Basic Training course.  If the Battle of the Bulge had gone badly, reinforcements from our unit would have been quickly sent to the front lines.  The rest of us, over the rank of Corporal, including me, pulled guard and K.P. duty. 


After the Battle of the Bulge was won by the Allies, and the threat of being sent as reinforcements to immediately fight the Nazis had passed, we returned to our engineering training such as constructing Bailey Bridges across streams at Wallingford, England. 


One day while resting in my pup tent I heard a voice say, “Marshall are you in there?”  It was my old friend from South Side High School in Fort Wayne, Ray Vonderau.  It can be a small world.  (Joe would later meet Ray at our 60th High School reunion in Fort Wayne, in 2003.)


7 February 1945.  I was given that great award, “The Good Conduct Medal,” for fooling all of my C.O.s for the period of one consecutive year into giving me “excellent” for each of my efficiency ratings.






17 March 1945.  I managed to get a three-day pass to London over Saint Patrick’s Day.  Truly enjoyed seeing the sights of London – including Parliament, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Number Ten Downing Street, Westminster Abbey, Saint Paul’s Cathedral.  Two German V2 rockets (Buzz Bombs) landed while I was there.


10 April 1945.  We left Gloucester for Weymouth, England where we crossed the English Channel in L.S.T.s (Landing Ship Transport) to Le Havre, France. 


11 April 1945.  We traveled to Camp Twenty Grand where we picked up our ammunition.  It was here that we learned of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s death.  We didn’t have much time to think about it, so we just hoped President Truman could carry on in FDR’s footsteps. 


14 April 1945.  We left Camp Twenty Grand for Fonttaine, Belgium just a few weeks after the retreating Germans.  From there the next day we went through Aachen and Julich in Germany.  We would be in Germany from 15 April 1945 to 3 June 1945.  


Geldern was our home base from 15 April to 24 April.  Most of the platoon was out doing odd jobs or looking for souvenirs.  Then we crossed the Rhine at Bonn and moved to Bergish-Gladbach.  Our mess at this time was the kitchen of a former German restaurant.  Officers ate in the smaller of the two dining rooms and the enlisted men ate in the larger.  We had tablecloths and Russian and Polish K.P.s and waiters!  That was really nice.  It was here that the end of the War in Europe found us.


About the 12th or 13th of May 1945 we moved to Deutz, a suburb of Koln (Cologne) Germany, not far from its famous cathedral.  Our headquarters in Deutz was a schoolhouse that had most of its ceiling intact, though almost all of its windows were gone.  The troops performed mostly engineering chores or destroyed ammunition stores.  Some of us assisted the M.P.s in maintaining order in the delousing lines for refugees.


25 May 1945.  We moved into a former Nazi neighborhood just as they moved out.  Those of us in supply shared a three flat apartment.  Sergeant Scully, the supply sergeant and stock clerk, had the lower flat with living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom.  Bob Herr and I had an identical unit on the second floor.  Too bad it lasted but three days.


28 May 1945.  At the major’s request, we moved to Troisdorf, Germany in order to take part in a parade to award a couple of G.I.s and an officer Purple Heart Medals for running over a mine that some Jerry had probably placed for G.I.s who were close behind, but instead got some “lucky” boys out souvenir hunting weeks later. 


2 June 1945.  We left Troisdorf to go to the Calais Staging Area – a course marked as, “Follow the circled arrow to the point of embarkation.”  The route took us from Troisdorf, to Trier, across the Rhine (for the second time) this time via the General Hodges Bridge, by motor car through the Ruhr and Moiselle valleys to Nancy, Dijon, and Saint Rambert.  We ultimately arrived at the Calais Staging Area on 6 June 1945. 


Bob Herr and I sure saw some beautiful country while we rode in the seat of the unit bulldozer which was being towed on a flatbed trailer behind one of the company trucks.  (Now that I think about it, it might not have been the softest, or the safest, seat I have ever had.) 


The staging area at Calais was where we picked up our gear for the Pacific Theater.  It was one of the dustiest holes I have ever been in.  We sweated not only through the hot dusty clime, but also an I. G. (Inspector General’s) inspection. 


Most of us went on a pass to Marseille only once.  There we saw some of the dirtiest and unsanitary habits and actions that we could imagine in what was a supposedly civilized country.


10 July 1945.  We set sail on the U.S.S. General S. D. Sturgis (none of us having any idea who he was), a Navy troop transport carrying about 3,000 G.I.s.  All in all, the trip was 42 days from Marseille, through the Straits of Gibraltar, the Panama Canal, across the International Dateline, to Manila where we dropped anchor on 20 August 1945.  Every Tuesday we had baked beans and sweet rolls for breakfast. 


Along the way we disembarked only once, on 22 July, my 21st birthday, at the Atlantic port to the Panama Canal.  It was good of Uncle Sam to remember my birthday.  I got to eat my fill of hot dogs, ice cream and candy, not to mention drinking Cokes and Iced Tea. 


We exited the canal and entered the Pacific Ocean on 23 July 1945 and crossed the International Date Line such that we had no 7 August 1945.  I wonder where it went?  I doubt we will ever see it.  I hope someday on the way home to see the same day twice. 


12 August 1945.  With all due celebration, and the initiation of all officers not previously initiated into the “Imperivm Neptvni Regis,” we crossed the Equator.  The “initiation” involved requiring the officers to jump off a diving board and swim across an improvised pool of salt water and garbage.  The rest of us were initiated into the “Ancient Order of the Deep,” without the required “ceremony.”


15 August 1945.  Three days later, at 0808 ship’s time while anchored off the coast of New Guinea, we learned that the Japs had asked for peace.  I guess the prospect of our imminent arrival (or perhaps it was the two atomic bombs), was just too much for them.  The ship’s chaplain had remarked to us earlier that he had heard Hitler had, “Given up when he heard that we were in Europe and on the way,” and he prayed that the Emperor would be just as wise. 


Naturally rumors flew around the ship that we would immediately turn around and head back to the States.  But that was not to be.  Instead we found ourselves on our “Merry Way to Manilla.”


21 August 1945.  We disembarked in L.C.I.s to Luzon, as usual some five or six weeks after the fighting had ended, and boarded a train for Angeles.  On 27 August we left for San Jose by train.  From there we went to Bagabag via truck and then six miles further north to a bivouac site.  On 31 August, C Company moved another six miles north.


We’ve moved more times in less time than any circus could ever hope to.  Always just missing the fighting.  Maybe they will give us an “also ran” ribbon.  We’ve now moved another 90 miles north of Bagabag where I sit writing this for some unknown reason, and you’re reading it for an even more unknown reason.


From now on our future hangs on hopes.  We were lucky that General Yamashita surrendered when he did for he had about thirty or forty thousand troops in the hills north of here. 


Now we hope that we are merely marking time until we go home, we hope.


(End of 1945 typewritten record.)


Our battalion’s major job at this time was to restore some mountainside roads.  This we understood was to enable General Yamashita’s surrendered and ill troops to be transported out.  Our troops would attempt to fill in and restore roads during the day, only to have it rain at night and wash out even more than before.  Finally, I was told that Japanese rifles were dumped in, soil was dozed on top of them, we had a brief dry spell and the fill finally held.


On an extremely sad note, during the reconstruction a truck carrying troops from a fill site was returning to base, and stalled out in a stream bed.  I was told that a wall of water came down from the mountains and by sheer force took the truck and thirteen G.I.s on board down the stream.  They all died.


26 October 1945.  We returned to Manila and set up our base at a former Navy Seabee base.  It had wood frames and floors for squad tents, a Quonset Hut for a kitchen and dining area, an open-air theater, and a concrete basketball court.


19 December 1945.  I was promoted to Technician Fourth Grade.  My duties?  Technically speaking I was a chaplain’s assistant charged with maintaining the company library and via my jeep driver, a guy named, “New York L. Ferachio,” picking up and returning the movie film to and from the Naval base each morning. 


Our 1268th battalion’s final duty prior to being disbanded was to convert the former Navy Seabee base into a temporary housing area for U.S.O. entertainers.  With posts, burlap and barbwire we were to maze the area to separate married from single as well as colored from white.  That accomplished we were disbanded and deactivated. 


I was then assigned to a Mareno Engineer Depot in Manila where I learned to operate a fork lift to move supplies in and out of vast warehouses.


Finally my A.S.C. 40 point level for discharge (based on tenure, number of battles, etc.) came up and I left Manila on the Army Transportation Corp ship “Republic,” a converted World War I vintage hospital ship.  The cruise was pleasant taking 21 days in island hopping before reaching San Francisco in mid March 1946.  Then to Camp Stoneman prior to taking a troop train to Chicago and eventually to Camp Atterbery, Indiana.


28 March 1946.  I received an honorable discharge and was officially “separated from service.” 


I declined an offer to apply to O.C.S (Officer’s Candidate School) preferring to continue my education with the G.I. Bill.  I did sign up for a three-year term in the inactive reserves until 26 March 1949.


April 1946.  Spent several days looking for a job, but no one was interested in offering a position to a returned G.I. who had plans to go off to college only four months later.  Dad got me a temporary job at Fisher Brothers as a stock clerk for 75 cents an hour.  At dad’s suggestion, I paid my mother a dollar a day for room and board. 



Chapter Four

Purdue University and Spring Street Junior High


Being eligible for the G.I. Bill, I thought I would return to the University of Illinois in the Fall of 1946 where I had already earned a semester’s worth of credits in the A.S.T.P. program.  But due to the many applications from veterans, the University of Illinois was only accepting in-state applicants.  I sought the advice of my former grammar teacher and rifle team coach, Maurice J. Cook, who advised me to attend Purdue University if I wanted to teach math.


September 1946.  I enrolled at Purdue University, completed 135 credit hours in seven semesters, and earned a Bachelor’s of Science Degree with Distinction on 5 February 1950.  There being no job openings for February graduates, I enrolled into Graduate School and completed courses in secondary guidance counseling.  While at Purdue I was a member of the Dunroamin (a veteran’s housing organization), Delta Rho Kappa (the Purdue academic honorary), and Kappa Delta Pi (the national educational honorary). 


Summer 1948 (or 1949).  Painted the outside of Grandmother Buchman’s house at 2610 Smith Street.  Visited my best friend from high school, Richard Morton, who had just graduated from West Point, and his parents at their cottage in Canada for my birthday.


May 1950.  I received a telegram from Harry R. Davidson, the Superintendent of the New Albany Indiana School Corporation, offering a position as a mathematics teacher with a starting salary of $2,650.00 per year.  I moved to New Albany, took a room at Mrs. Benjamin Rowe’s boarding house at 519 East Main Street, and began teaching at the New Albany Junior High School on Spring street. 


Summer 1951.  Completed the second of two summer school sessions at Purdue toward my Master’s degree.  That fall, I took a room in the home of Mrs. Irma Hammond at 506 East Main Street.


September 1951.  I met Winifred Geddes for the first time thanks to an introduction by a fellow teacher, Milo Eiche.  (Milo was living in one of the apartments Mrs. Geddes had made in her home.)  Our first date was at Leon’s pharmacy which had a small lunch counter.  Winifred was in her nurse’s uniform, having just come from work.  I don’t remember the exact date, or who was with us, but I remember how Winifred looked in her uniform.  We dated off and on for the next three years.  


Later that year, with Milo Eiche’s help, I learned to drive and bought my first car, a 1949, 2-door green Chevy which dad had found for me in Fort Wayne.


3 August 1952.  I completed graduate studies at Purdue University by taking three years worth of summer school courses, and received a Master’s of Science degree in Education.  That fall my salary was increased to $4,050.00 per year and I began taking evening classes toward a PhD in School Administration at Indiana University Southeast, which was then located in Jeffersonville, Indiana.


12 December 1952.  Faculty Christmas Party Poem written and recited by Maxine Largent:


“Marshall Buchman, that eligible bachelor,

Should resolve, and mean it, too

That never again will he hold out

A whole, long, Leap Year through.


“Winifred Geddes – now she is the one

Who keeps Buchman feeling meek.

She should resolve to set aside

A “Be-Kind-To-Marshall” Week.



Chapter Four

Marriage and Medical School


October 1953.  I applied for admission to the University of Louisville School of Medicine and was accepted for the 1955 class pending completion of some 22 hours of required pre-med coursework.  I tendered my resignation from my faculty position effective at the end of the 1953-1954 school year.


December 1953.  Christmastime.  I asked for permission from Winifred’s dad, Frank Geddes, who granted his consent, and proposed marriage to Winifred.  She accepted and we were engaged. 


5 June 1954.  Winifred and I were married at Trinity United Methodist Church which was then at 13th and Spring Street in New Albany, Indiana.  The ministers were Earl Yates, Winifred’s cousin, and Trinity’s pastor, Robert Gingery.  The matron of honor was Marilyn Kessel (Winifred’s dad’s older brother’s daughter) and my best man was Milo Eiche.  We moved into an upstairs apartment at Winifred’s parent’s home at 1310 East Elm street. 


I completed the required pre-med courses at the University of Louisville while working part-time at the New Albany Sears Roebuck store at Pearl and Main Street.  I worked in furniture and floor coverings, earning $1.00 per hour plus one percent of sales. 


Fall 1954.  I completed the required pre-med coursework, including a chemistry class that had a wrong answer in the back of the book (I was the only one to get the answer correct on the exam), and another where a fellow student apparently swapped samples with me; and began my studies at the University of Louisville Medical School.


21 January 1958.  Our son Joseph Geddes Buchman was delivered at Floyd Memorial Hospital by John M. Paris, M.D.


I worked as an extern at Saint Edwards Hospital in New Albany from 1956 to 1959, initially in the laboratory, then doing histories and physicals and finally Emergency Room care the last two years.


7 June 1959.  Earned a Doctor of Medicine degree from the University of Louisville ranking 17th in a class of 83.  I was a member of AED (the national pre-medical fraternity, and the AKK medical fraternity.


1959-1960.  Was one of seven interns at the Saint Joseph Infirmary, Louisville, Kentucky where Winifred had earned her R.N. degree some years earlier. 


December 1959.  Purchased home and office at 1824 State Street, just one house away from the Floyd Memorial Hospital, from Dr. Edgar Murphy’s widow, Elizabeth.  We moved in during a heavy snowfall in March 1960. 


1 July 1960.  Obtained my medical license. 


Chapter Five

Family Life and the Practice of Medicine



3 July 1960.  Opened the office with Winifred as my RN/receptionist, and began the practice of medicine.  Held staff privileges at both Saint Edwards and Floyd County Memorial Hospital.  The former closed in 1963 and Floyd Memorial was enlarged.


6 July 1960.  2:00 p.m.  Saw my first patient, John Ganley.  At that time an office call was $4.00.


I served as the secretary of the Floyd County Memorial Hospital Medical Staff for several years in the 1960s, then as vice president in 1968 and as president of the medical staff in 1969.


New Albany Mayor Garnett (Tuffy) Inman appointed me to the New Albany, Floyd County Board of Health in 1964.  I would serve for the following 34 years until 1998.


June 1965.  Took our first vacation since opening the office.  (Spent the first five years paying off debts to Mrs. Murphy ($1,000.00) for the dining room set and office furniture and Frank and Inez Geddes ($5,000.00).)  We went to Gatlinburg, Tennessee with Morty and Pat Wolf.


June 1966.  Went back to Gatlinburg where it rained every day.  Escaped briefly to Asheville, North Carolina and Maggie Valley.


12 March 1969.  Winifred’s uncle, Ernest Ira Geddes expired.


1 May 1969.  My dad, Ross Buchman, passed away from intractable cardiac failure. 


13 July 1969.  Winifred’s dad, Frank Isom Geddes, passed away.


I served as a delegate to the Indiana Medical Society conventions in 1969 and 1970 and served as the president of the Floyd County Medical Society in 1971.


I served on the Medical Staff of Silvercrest Tuberculosis Hospital from 1970 to 1972, when it closed.  It later reopened as the Silvercrest Children’s Disability Center and I served on their medical staff for 21 years, from 1974 to 1995.


Summer 1973.  Our first vacation in Edisto Island, South Carolina with Vaughn and Betty Geddes.  Winifred and I would return yearly until 1981.  Joe was either at Summer Camp, working or in Summer School for all of those years. 


26 May 1974.  Winifred’s mother, Inez Geddes, passed away.


June 1976.  Joe graduated from New Albany High School.


May 1980.  Joe earned a Bachelor of Science degree from Indiana University.  Winifred and I attended the graduation in the “nose bleed” section of Assembly Hall.  Joe took a position working for WHAS television in Louisville, Kentucky.


30 October 1980.  My mother, Dessie Buchman, passed away.


Summer 1982.  Stayed in Gatlinburg in the “Club Chalet” time share we had purchased the year before.  Attended World’s Fair in Knoxville, Tennessee.


August 1982.  Joe was accepted as an incoming MBA student by the Krannert Graduate School of Management at Purdue University and began his studies.  Winifred and I met Joe in West Lafayette for the Purdue/Illinois football game.  It was good to be back on my old campus. 


Summer 1983.  Purchased Tree Tops timeshare near Gatlinburg. 


11 July 1983.  Winifred’s brother, Vaughn Geddes, passed away.


December 1984.  Joe completed the MBA program a semester early (64 credit hours in three semesters) and we attended his December graduation ceremony in a ballroom of the Purdue University Union building.  The following month he began his PhD studies, sadly, back at Indiana University, in Bloomington.  Despite my bitter disappointment, I’ve not written him out of our will, at least as far as he knows.


August 1986.  Joe accepted a position on the faculty of Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, Michigan.


August 1988.  Joe resigned from Western Michigan to accept a position at The University of Tennessee in Knoxville, Tennessee.




November 1989.  We agreed to sell our home at 1824 State Street to Floyd County Memorial Hospital.  We purchased a home at 506 Bentbrook Drive from Mrs. Willie Canter and moved in during December 1989.


31 December 1989.  I retired from office practice. 


My receptionists over the years were Winifred initially, Mary Pat Murphy, Betty Smith, Margaret Yates Hanson, Norma Lone, Brenda Taylor, Vicki Dolan Cline, Peggy Harris, Lisa Hawes, and Winifred again from 1978 to 1989 with her “fill in” Jane Corrao our neighbor.


Oldest patients cared for were John Stone who lived to be 106 years old (101 to 106 under my care) and Sadie Bartle who lived to be 103 (87 to 103 under my care). 



Chapter Six



June, 1992.  Visited Gatlinburg for two weeks and Joe in his new home, on Maple Loop Drive, in Knoxville, Tennessee.  Instead of returning directly home, we “detoured” to Orlando, Florida and spent four days visiting Disney World. 


Thanksgiving 1992.  Joe brought Cindy Arnim and her two daughters, Kelsey (5) and Hayley (1) home for Thanksgiving dinner.  They became engaged the following weekend.


22 July 1993.  My 69th birthday.  Winifred and I took our first flight together (and only the second one in my life (the first having been for perhaps 20 or 30 minutes on my 13th birthday).  We flew from Louisville to Atlanta, then Atlanta to Salt Lake City, for Joe and Cindy’s wedding.


June 1994.  We returned to Salt Lake City for a 10 day visit.  On 4 July 1994, during the city’s fireworks show, Kelsey announced to both sets of her grandparents, that her mother was expecting. 


24 December 1994.  Just before the early evening Christmas Eve services at Trinity United Methodist Church we were told Cindy was in labor.  We learned we had a new grandchild just after the service and flew back to Salt Lake City a few days later.


July 1997.  We flew to Utah to help Joe and Cindy (who was over 8 months pregnant) move into their new home in Alpine.  Anna Marie Buchman was born a few days later, on 31 July, 1997.  We stayed for another week to help with the new baby before returning home to New Albany.


December 1998.  Winifred and I flew back to Utah.  Joe and Cindy had arranged for all of us to spend Christmas at Yellowstone National Park.  We had a grand and memorable time.


8 April 1998.  Winifred fell off a couch, while standing on it to polish a wall mirror, and fractured her left radius.

January 6 1999. The Louisville, Kentucky Courier-Journal.


AFTER 34 YEARS by Dale Moss


The sheriff, a judge, a commissioner – Floyd County said goodbye at year’s end to some of its best-known leaders.


Dr. Marshall Buchman left as well.


Buchman retired from a county Board of Health that has never functioned without him.  He had a steady hand in absolutely every public health policy and project.  His is a 34-year mark any public servant would envy.


But if only the other departments were noticed, Buchman didn’t mind.  He didn’t join the new board in 1964 for attention, and he didn’t expect it when he left.  “Somebody had to do it,” Buchman said of an appointive tenure that may be unmatched locally.


“And I’ve enjoyed doing it.”


Those who know Buchman’s contributions know they’ll be immensely missed.  “There aren’t any replacements for him,” said Dr. Everett Bickers, the county health officer.  They say Buchman not only made every quarterly meeting but also made every meeting more meaningful.  “Mr. Dependability,” Bickers called Buchman.  From the grammar of the minutes to the objectives of soil tests to the details of disease screenings, Buchman invariably had questions and suggestions.  “He always was willing to listen, and he did his homework,” said Cindy Andres, clinic director.


But Buchman never blamed or obstructed.  “He’s always been very fair, very interested, very thorough,” said Jan Craig, another longtime board member.  Ever positive and uniquely wise, Buchman guided and pitched in.  “He gently prodded me in the proper direction, and he’s so kind in that manner,” said Harriet Chalfant, board chairwoman.  “That doesn’t sound like a lot, bit it really is.”


Health departments that expect too much of the public or too little are the ones under fire.  Floyd’s is steadfastly middle of the road, a course that not surprisingly reflects Buchman’s low-key approach.


Buchman urged that neither the law nor common sense be ignored, Bickers said.  He insisted on progress – ambitious vaccination and prenatal programs come to mind.  He was happiest when the public was happy.


Buchman is getting out now in part because the getting was good.  The department is overdue for controversy – perhaps regarding an expansion of suburban sewers that Bickers favors – a part that Buchman doesn’t covet. 


“It’s time to step aside while it has still been fun,” he said, “I want to go out feeling fine.


Buchman is also 74, and he’s been away from medical practice for nearly a decade.  He feels good personally but a bit out of touch professionally to represent physicians on the board to his own high standards.  “There’s a time (to retire), and I think this is a good time,” he said.


A Fort Wayne native, Buchman came to New Albany not to be a doctor but to teach math, which he did at the old Spring Street Junior High.  Always interested in medicine, though, he went to medical school in Louisville.  He practiced in his State Street basement (his wife of 44 years Winifred, was his nurse at times) from 1960 until Floyd Memorial Hospital bought his place in 1989 to expand.


At that point Buchman semi-retired, helping at the state’s Silvercrest Children’s Development Center until 1995.  “I’ve phased out,” he said.  “And I think this is the last step.”


Asked to serve on the board by the late New Albany Mayor Garnett “Tuffy” Inman, Buchman agreed because it was a way to teach again.  As he tried to teach patients to be healthy, he tried to teach the public likewise.


He did so for many years without pay and then for many years with very little pay (about $530 per year).  He did so despite the time it took from his private practice.


Obviously, he did so without broad appreciation or so much as a public acknowledgement.  No matter.  Buchman hadn’t thought about how he would like to be thought of until I asked.


“I hope they’d say I did a good job.  I was interested and concerned and dedicated,” he said. 


“And if they didn’t say anything, that’s all right too.”


June 1999.  Joe accepted an appointment as a visiting associate professor at Indiana University, just prior to going to Mongolia for one month with Cindy on a Utah Valley State College faculty exchange program. 


September 1999.  Joe, Cindy, the kids, Winifred and I all met at the French Lick Spring Hotel in order to attend the dedication ceremony for the partial restoration of the nearby West Baden Springs hotel.  The Friday evening ceremony featured a horse show with show horses, a variety of carriages, an orchestra on the lawn, and a tour of the restored portion of the West Baden Springs facility.


After our return to New Albany, as we were preparing to go out to dinner, Winifred fell trying to get into Joe’s Roadtrek van by herself.  The next morning Winifred could not get out of bed and a subsequent examination indicated a linear fracture of her sacrum.


May 2000.  Joe accepted a second year’s appointment at Indiana University before taking the entire family, including Anna who was not yet three years old, on a one month tour of Mongolia. 


Christmas 2000.  We visited their home on Bluebird Lane, and attended the Indiana University Madrigal Dinner in the Union Building.


5 April 2001.  Winifred fell in her bedroom.  From that time on she had increasingly limited function in her left arm.  She was hospitalized at Floyd Memorial on 25 April and transferred to the Southern Indiana Rehabilitation Hospital on 27 April 2001.  She was diagnosed with total immobilization syndrome, essential hypertension, osteoarthritis, osteoporosis, and atherosclerotic dementia, mild.


24 May 2001.  Winifred was admitted to Providence Retirement Home.  She would not return home.  I visited twice a day and fed her all of her evening and Sunday noon time meals. 


27 May 2001.  Kelsey’s 13th birthday.  Joe resigned from Utah Valley State College to remain in Indiana.  Cindy and Joe purchased a new home on Claybridge Drive in Bloomington, Indiana and he accepted a position with Cardean University, an online MBA program with the University of Chicago.


29 June 2003.  Winifred had a syncopal (momentary unconscious) episode and remained much weaker. 


2 July 2003.  After an all-night flight from Utah, Joe arrived in the early morning hours, and we met to our mutual surprise in the lobby near Winifred’s room at Providence.   He visited with his mother, and then we returned home to rest. 


We went back to the nursing home for a brief visit before dinner.  Over dinner at a nearby Cracker Barrel restaurant Joe asked me where I had been when my mother (his grandmother) had died.  Winifred and I had also gone out to dinner after visiting my mother in the hospital.  She passed away in the hospital from a second heart attack while we were away at dinner.  Joe and I quickly finished eating and returned to Providence. 


We received a call on Joe’s cell phone from a Providence staff member just as we pulled into the parking lot.  Winifred was much weaker and as Joe held her left hand, I held her right, and Sister Agnes offered a prayer, she gently passed away at about 9:25 p.m.  In all my years of medical practice, it was the first time I had been present as someone passed away.


Winifred’s funeral services were well conducted and attended with visitation at the funeral home on 6 July and a memorial service at Trinity on 7 July.   Kelsey produced a beautiful computer slide show which was shown on a small screen at the funeral home, and later on the large screen projector at the church.


Later that summer Joe and Cindy sold their Bloomington, Indiana home and returned to Utah where they bought a log cabin in the mountains outside of Park City. 


15 September 2003.  Joe flew back from Utah and took me to Fort Wayne for the 60th reunion of the graduating class of South Side High School, 1943. 


We visited the gravesite of Marshall O. Buchman, the gravesite of the A. O. Buchman family, including Uncle Dick, and the Joseph Harding family (all in Lindenwood), the Robert and Cora Harding family gravesite including my parents Ross and Dessie Buchman (in the I.O.O.F. cemetery near New Haven), and Henry and Louisa Woods (my paternal grandmother’s parents) in a cemetery among the cornfields near Decatur, Indiana.  We visited the Taylor Chapel and searched, without success, for my maternal grandmother’s parents, George and Mary Miller. 


Joe took us to the Coney Island Hot Dog Stand and we drove by my old home on Weisser Park, and the A. O. Buchman lot (the home has been torn down) at 2610 Smith Street.  On the way home we visited with Mike Roese at his home.  We had met earlier with his sister Jan in the lobby of the hotel where my High School reunion was held.


3 April 2004.  On what would have been Winifred’s 83rd birthday, Joe and the four grandchildren drove to New Albany for Spring Break in Joe’s Roadtrek van.  (Kelsey (16) did a fair portion of the driving.)  We went to dinner at the revolving restaurant at the Galt House hotel which was nearly empty as it was Eastertime.  Just as we were discussing Winifred’s birthday, the piano player played Happy Birthday, apparently for one of the other two or three tables that were occupied at the restaurant.


20 July 2004.  Joe flew to Louisville and made arrangements to tour Washington, D.C. with me for my 80th birthday.  We flew from Louisville to Detroit, and Detroit to Reagan International airport.  The first day we drove about the city noting the Washington Monument, the White House, and the Capitol Building, noting the increased security measures following 9-11.


The following day we toured the World War II memorial, the FDR memorial from which we walked to the Jefferson Memorial and back, the Lincoln Memorial, the Pentagon, Supreme Court and some of the Smithsonian complex.  Joe suggested I might like to visit Arlington National Cemetery and the grave of my high school classmate and best friend Brigadier General Richard L. Morton.  We were directed to the site which was near those of Abner Doubleday and Stephen Vincent Benet.  While driving about we noted the Tomb of the Unknowns, the JFK site, and markers of several World War II generals.


21 July 2005.  Joe and family came to New Albany in their Roadtrek van and we all set off on another birthday tour – my 81st.  First stop was the Gateway Arch in Saint Louis.  The next day, on my birthday, we visited the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield, Illinois.  That was a memorable and enjoyable experience.  We also toured the Lincoln home and tomb in Springfield.


Next came a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago – a truly memorable experience.  I had last visited there in June 1943 with several of my high school classmates the day prior to graduation.  Especially interesting was the exhibit of plasticized human bodies.  On the return home, we made a brief visit to the Purdue campus.


All in all, it was another enjoyable, educational, and entertaining birthday tour. 


5 October 2005.  Joe and I drove together to Gatlinburg, Tennessee so Joe could attend the annual conference of his small church in Knoxville.  We stayed at the River Terrace, attended a performance of the “Amazing Chinese Acrobats” in Pigeon Forge, and toured the new Ripley’s Aquarium in Gatlinburg.  We also attended a church service in Knoxville before returning home.


November 2005.  Joe went to China to teach marketing in Beijing.


Christmas 2005.  Flew to Salt Lake City in time to diagnose Joe with Chicken Pox.  It was a fairly miserable Christmas for him, including being banned from Kristian’s 11th birthday party.


Sunday 12 March 2006.  (On what would have been my Dad’s 113th birthday.)  Joe visited New Albany after leaving Florida, serving at a Colloquia for Capella University in Atlanta, and attending an on-campus tour of Michigan State University for the Order of the Arrow conference which will occur later this year.  On the way to New Albany he visited our cousin Amy Said in Ohio who gave Joe my grandparent’s family Bible.  We paged through the Bible which noted Ross had also been born on “March 12th, a Sunday.”  Joe then took the Bible to Knoxville to be restored by a bookbinder he knew there, before returning home to Utah.


1 June 2006.  I flew Comair to Cincinnati for a Delta flight to Salt Lake City to attend Kelsey’s High School graduation on 9 June.  (She was 10th out of a class of 294.)


Joe had been encouraging me to go to Las Vegas with him for many a year and on 6 June he drove us to the New York, New York Hotel and Casino.  Shortly after checking in, we had dinner at the America, walked around the Strip.  The next morning we enjoyed breakfast at the Il Fornaio. 


7 June 2006.  We visited Hoover Dam and after a late afternoon nap and dinner at Denny’s, we attended two shows – 8:00p.m. Danny Gans, impressionist/comedian at the Mirage, and the 10:00pm production of O by Cirque Du Solei at the Belligio.  For the latter, thanks to a “ticket broker” Joe had found, we had front row center seats, got splashed a bit with water, and Joe was pulled from the audience to dance on the stage with one of the two clown performers in the show.


8 June 2006.  After sleeping in from the previous night’s performances, we had lunch at the Nine Fine Irishmen and saw the afternoon Mac King comedy magic show at Harrah’s.  One the way out of town, we visited the Freemont Street experience and had ice cream sundaes at the original Golden Gate Hotel and Casino.


9 June 2006.  We arrived back in Park City in the early afternoon and attended Kelsey’s graduation ceremony at 5:00p.m.  Cindy’s sister Peggy arrived and we all had a graduation dinner with Cindy’s parents at the Olive Garden in Salt Lake City.


Joe and I attended the Davinci Code movie, and later Over the Hedge with Anna and Kristian on the 10th and 11th.  I also read the Purpose Driven Life before leaving. 


It was another enjoyable and memorable visit with family.


22 July 2006.  Joe arrived in New Albany and we went to Ceaser’s buffet for my birthday dinner.  The next day we attended the contemporary Service at Trinity where Joe met briefly with his high school classmate, Bill Maetsche, and his former Scoutmaster, Bill Holz.  Joe then took off for Michigan State University and an Order of the Arrow conference. 


5 August 2006.  Joe returned to New Albany and the next day we drove to Columbus, Ohio for a family reunion with several of my second cousins whom I had never met.  Cindy, Hayley, Kristian and Anna drove down from Grand Rapids where she had been visiting her brother.   We had a very pleasant visit and picnic lunch. We all traveled together in my car to Springfield, Ohio where we had three rooms at a Fairfield Inn. 


7 August 2006.  We visited the Wright Brothers memorial near Dayton, and the Wright Patterson Air Force Museum where we had a two-hour walking tour of three large hangers depicting aviation history from 1906 to the present.  We stopped in Cincinnati at the Montgomery Inn for dinner, prior to returning to New Albany.  That was one more enjoyable and educational trip to be remembered with pleasure.


Christmas 2006.  I flew to Salt Lake City.  Kristian patiently explained how to play his new Wii video game, which thanks to my arrival, he was able to open a few days early.  Learned to play “virtual” bowling, tennis, golf and baseball. 


15 June 2007.  Joe, Cindy, Kristian and Anna arrived in New Albany.  Kelsey and Hayley stayed behind in Park City, Utah for their jobs and, for Hayley, driver’s education.  The next day we left for Knoxville, Tennessee where we spent a day and a night with Cindy’s sister, Peggy Littmann and her husband Mark.


17 June 2007.  Headed from Knoxville to Gatlinburg where we stayed at Tree Tops for the first time since Joe and Cindy and the grandchildren had visited Winifred and I there in 1999.  Joe and family spent three days at Dollywood and Dolly’s Splash Country, and in Pigeon Forge racing Go Karts and shopping.  We all went to another Chinese Acrobat show, and to The Comedy Barn where Cindy was selected to play “Cindy Lou” in a hilarious mostly ad-libbed production on stage.