Rural health care, far away from cities is hard to come by. But the dedication of a country doctor may have saved my grandmother's life.
By the winter of 1944, at the age of fifty-four, my grandfather had spent the previous thirty winters shoveling coal and snow for up to 65 apartments. His body began to give out from the strain. This letter is the first in a series that documents the severe knee problems that plagued my grandfather during World War II, and the huge workload Grandpa's infected knee put on my grandmother.