St. Luke's Hospital
A
Short Sketch of the Early History of St.
Luke's
by Dr. Nils Tronnes (edited)
In order to fully appreciate the early
history of St. Luke's Hospital and Fargo
Clinic, it would be of considerable help to
get a little view of the conditions affecting
medical practice and doctors in Fargo and
neighboring parts of the state of North
Dakota in those days.
The writer came to Fargo in February 1904, as
an assistant to Dr. T. Thames who had a
little hospital (St. Olaf's) located in a
remodeled private residence near the corner
of 4th Street and 8th Avenue South. He was a
very capable "minor surgeon" with a
very good aseptic technique. The hospital
accommodated about 10 patients. Two graduate
nurses and three students made up the nursing
staff.
St. John's Hospital's main central building
had recently been erected only two or three
blocks from St. Olaf's Hospital. In Moorhead,
Dr. D.C. Darrow had a little hospital,
competently run but only slightly larger than
St. Olaf's.
After about a year, Dr. Thames and I
dissolved our partnership, and he later on
started a little hospital in Maddock, N.D. I
continued practicing in Fargo, and the next
year, Dr. Olaf Sand and I set up a
partnership. (He had previously practiced in
Pelican Rapids, Minn.) We rented offices over
the old Christianson Drugstore at No. 10
Broadway.
The hygienic conditions in town were bad; the
water mains throughout the city carried dirty
river water. Consequently, typhoid fever was
endemic. Epidemics were frequent, with dozens
of cases around town and no hospital
facilities for transients and poor people.
Out in Oak Grove, an old, abandoned shack was
sometimes used for these unfortunates, with a
couple or three rooms with old dirty beds and
mattresses. Many windows were broken, and old
rags were stuffed in the holes. Conditions
were awful, especially in wintertime.
Patients with fevers had to get up and start
fires in an old dilapidated stove to keep
from freezing to death. There was no nursing
or attention except from a woman who was
supposed to "tidy up" the mess off
and on, but I never saw her. When we doctors
came calling, we brought milk and bread along
for the patients. Many times, I saw two or
three faces at the windows waiting for food!
Smallpox was also endemic, and the same shack
was used for them.
Things, however, came to a climax when a
young man—a transient—was very sick
and consulted me. His throat, tonsils and
pillars were covered with diphtheritic
membranes. I referred him to Dr. Mallarian
who was health officer, and he devised and
executed a plan for which he really deserves
a little niche in our local medical
"Hall of Fame." He gave him some
money for food and instructed him to go to an
old dilapidated hotel on lower Front Street
called Merchants' Hotel, get a room and pluck
down $1.00 (the ordinary charge) in advance,
go to bed and then send for him (Dr.
Mallarian). Everything went according to
plan, and Dr. Mallarian ordered the hotel
quarantined as it was a "bad case,"
and there were no places in town for cases
like this. He could not be evicted as he had
paid in advance. This caused quite a
commotion around town and was the real cause
of the building of a "detention
hospital" (called the
"Pest-house").
Dr. Sand's and my practice was growing, and
around 1906 we started, with Dr. Christian
Kachelmacher, discussing the possibility of
getting a new hospital in town. Dr.
Kachelmacher was a very forceful character.
He and Dr. Sand were really the main figures
in the triumvirate. We got several persons
interested, and we started having meetings,
discussing ways and means.
A committee was elected to find a suitable
location for the hospital. At first, we were
inclined to buy the grounds where Oak Grove
Seminary now stands, but as the roads there
at times were hardly passable because of the
sticky muck, we decided to recommend the
place where the institution is now
located—easily accessible in all kinds
of weather. This was part of the old baseball
park, where I had watched many exciting games
in the old Northern League days.
On the opening day, we attracted a large
crowd, and the Rev. Kildahl of Minneapolis
was the main speaker. Just as the program had
started, the first patient was rushed in as
an emergency. She was a young girl, Miss
Minnie Stoa of Buxton, N.D., and she had a
perforated appendix. No sooner was she
disposed of than patient number two
arrived—another perforated appendix. She
was Miss Quanbeck from Pekin, N.D.
Incidentally, they both got well. Needless to
say, Dr. Sand and I did not attend the
opening services.