| The Story of Dr. Oopla As told by Mary Keith to her daughter, Claudia in Feb. 2001 |
| Dearest Claudia, You asked me to write the stories that I was told as a child. You specifically asked about "Dr Oopla". Now in retrospect I realize that it really wasn't a story at all, but instead, one of Mom's scare tactics she used to get us to mind her. The Dr Oopla story had probably been passed on for generations. We had a basement in our house, but Dr Oopla lived under our house in the coal cellar. The only exit from the coal cellar to the outside was through a heavy metal door which had to be lifted from the bottom up and was conveniently located directly under our kitchen table. When things got out of hand at mealtime or when our plates weren't completely cleaned (especially mine) Mom would trick us by knocking her fist under the table and begin her story. "I hear Dr Oopla!". Dr Oopla had only one leg and the other one was made of wood. The sound of the knock was always Dr Oolpa knocking on the wall with his wooden leg when he got upset. He had been known to steal small children and eat them (especially ones that were noisy and didn't eat all their dinner). He had a friend who lived in the cellar with him. His friend was named Mr. Putnam. Mr. Putnam wasn't as mean as Dr. Oopla, but he sometimes got hungry enough to eat rowdy small children too. Mom said she tried her best to keep them happy by putting food by the opening outside which had always been used to drop coal, but sometimes there just wasn't enough food left over from our meals to feed them too. That's the time when Dr. Oopla would make the most noise. I always wondered why Mom wouldn't just let Dr Oopla have the left over food on my plate (but I never had the courage to suggest that). Afterall, she was also always ready to send us on a guilt trip by reminding us of the poor starving children in Armenia. Claudia, try to remember that this was during the Depression, an era in our national history when many people, including our kin and friends, had a very difficult time surviving. We (our immediate family) were very fortunate(blessed) because Dad had his own service station and garage at the corner of Columbia and Beacon. There were many professional men then who had to have their automobiles in order to work. This was at a time when Doctors were still making house calls, etc. Their cars had to be in good operating condition and Dad was an ":ace" mechanic. He was also honest and willing to accept whatever the customer could afford to give as payment. Many, many times Daddy would bring home rabbits, chickens, vegetables, fruit or home baked bread supplied by his customers for services rendered. The point I am making is that we always had plenty to eat and were in a great position to help others. Mom never refused to feed even the lowliest of beggars that would come to the door during these hard times. She had a special metal plate (like a military plate with compartments) that she always had available to provide food to beggars. After they used it, she boiled it for sterilization purposes. She often reminded us that we must never overlook the poor. No matter how ragged a person was, Mom would say that Jesus could be dressed as a beggar, just as they were. She also said many times: "There but for the grace of God, I go.". Consequently, Mom and Dad "allowed" Dr. Oopla and Mr. Putnam to live in our cellar, where they were kept warm and full enough so that they wouldn 't have to eat little children. At any rate, Mom's message, albeit cruel to a generation (as today's) filled with abundance, was quite effective. True, fear is a terrible thing to do to a child. I hope and pray I can be forgiven for using Sally's Lake and Buckner's Orphanage and God knows what else to help bring my children into line, via shock therapy or whatever you choose to call it (mental cruelty). I do know that the message underlying Dr Oopla and my tactics was to create a sense of reality and a deep appreciation of how fortunate we really were. Dr. Oopla and Mr. Putnam eventually saw better times. Slowly, as we begin to reach puberty and required more intelligible explanations, Dr. Oopla and Mr. Putnam had gone on their way to find a better life, as we did. So my precious Claudia, I hope this will give you an insight of how and why these two poor old men were ever a part of our family history. I love you, Mom |
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