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A Touch of Nostalgia
By Dorothy M. Boose, RN

I would like to say how much I enjoy the magazine. Since it is a Virginia magazine, it’s great to read about us. The story on five decades of nursing really hit home. This could have been about the nurses at Piedmont Geriatric Hospital in Burkeville over 50 years ago. Back then, careers were limited mostly to teaching and nursing. You noticed I didn’t say “secretary.” There were very few African-American secretaries in those days; we were known as “colored.” That’s where this story gets interesting.

There were very few nursing schools in the U.S. or particularly in the south for “coloreds.” This was during the periods of segregation. Piedmont Sanatorium, as it was called then, was the only tuberculosis hospital in Virginia for African-Americans (editor’s note: established in 1917 and closed in 1965). Young ladies came to Piedmont Sanatorium School of Nursing to train to become registered nurses and many came from as far away as Mississippi, Alabama, and North Carolina. Most found out about Piedmont by word of mouth. I grew up In Radford and always wanted to be a nurse. I learned about Piedmont through a family friend who attended the school.

If you were enrolled in the three-year program, the last year was spent at St. Philip Hospital Training School in Richmond, where there was the “colored” hospital that was part of MCV. The Piedmont nurses had another choice than the three-year program. They became certified tuberculosis nurses. Many did, and later became head nurses, remaining employed by Piedmont until their retirement.

The training is forever etched in my memory. We had little wooden baskets that contained a whisk broom, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a sifter of zinc stearate powder. Every bed patient received an afternoon backrub of warm alcohol, followed with soothing zinc powder. Bed sores were a rarity. Sheets were tightened and whisked free of crumbs. Our nursing arts instructor made sure our corners were mitered on our bed spreads. A neat room appearance was conducive to comfort. It seemed so simple then but understandable now.

The friendships established doing those times are to this day enduring. These were the girls you lived with and cried with when you failed a test or when you had boyfriend problems. We met each other’s families. .It was and still is a sisterhood. Now we meet all too frequently because of funerals. We always hug, not because it’s the thing to do, but because we still love each other and care. Many of us were teenagers when we came to Piedmont Sanatorium and are now grandmothers. Several nurses continued their education after receiving Piedmont’s foundation. We thank those former pioneers for making us caring nurses.

Hopefully we will have a Piedmont reunion soon, before new nurses no longer know who we are.