| Notes |
- Fond Memories By Shirley Klaus Lardizabal
Francisco J. Lardizabal was born in Tagudin, a small province of Illocos Norte in the Philippine islands. There were three children in the family: Feleciano, an older brother, and his older sister Juanita.
Francisco went to medical school at Santo Thomas University in Manila and after graduation he moved to Hawaii where he became the first Filipino to obtain a medical license.
When he came to Chicago he was unable to find a job at any hospital even though he had a medical license. Filipinos were "different" at least in the mind of the white power structure and therefore not wanted. Because he could not find work in his chosen profession Frank worked as a servant for two or three years and finally got a break when he was hired as an intern at Mother Cabrini Hospital. It was there that he met Doctor Eugene Chesrow, Superintendant of the Oak Forest Infirmary.
I met Frank at a house party when he was married to Dolores who died of cancer a year later. Then we met again and we were married on October 22, 1953. He was such a fascinating man and even though our marriage might be described as somewhat turbulent I loved him dearly.
Francisco Lardizabal had always wanted a son but instead he had 10 daughters; two in his homeland of the Philippines, four by Dolores, and our four daughters.
He was an excellent doctor and after his discharge from the army as a Major in the Medical Corps, he worked at the West Side Veteran's Administration Hospital and at one point in his career he was appointed as the Surgeon General of the Illinois AMVETS for the state of Illinois and he served that position from 1959 until his death in 1965.
He was a fascinating man and among his friends were Adlai Stevenson, the Governor of Illinois, Chicago's Mayor Richard Daley, bookies and bums who were down and out on their luck. He had friends from all over the world and it didn't matter to him whether they were rich, famous, infamous, or poor. He just loved people.
And he was so spontaneous and informal. He would often come home and casually say, "Oh, by the way I invited fifty people for a picnic in the back yard this evening." I never knew who was coming, what they were bringing, or what we were going to cook.
He was so smart and calm in an emergency. For instance, he was eating fish one time and a bone lodged in his throat. He pointed to his throat and wrote on a pad of paper: "Fish bone stuck in throat." Then he pointed to this big surgical-looking instrument that looked like a big tweezer. I quickly sterilized it and looked in there with a flash light. "Don't touch the sides," he wrote. I reached in with the big tweezers and pulled out the bone. He said, "Good. You know if you had touched the sides of my throat, I could have bled and choked to death." (He called the sides some medical name which I forget). The next day he took that bone to his office, put it on the bulletin board and wrote: "My wife removed this from my throat."
He was also the assistant to Doctor Chesrow who was the personal physician to Tony Accardo and Sam Giancana. As a matter of fact, Doctor Frank Lardizabal once operated on Tony Accardo.
Frank was a staunch Democrat but General Dwight Eisenhower, a Republican was my hero. So the first time I voted, Frank asked, "Did you vote for the right man?" I said, "You bet. General Eisenhower." So then he lectured me for hours about the virtues of the Democratic party.
Frank died suddenly of a heart attack on May 1, 1965. And his funeral was something to remember; it was with full military honors and a 21 gun salute. It was so moving. Hundreds of people came plus all the telegrams including one from Adlai Stevenson and Mayor Daley.
Here's an example of the kind of people who knew and loved Dr. Francisco Lardizabal. I was standing in the funeral home and a man came up to me, and said, "Mrs. Lardizabal, I give you this." And he hands me three hundred dollars. I said, "Why?" And he said, "Doc gave me some money to bet on the Derby (Kentucky Derby) but he said, 'Don't place the bet until I call you on Saturday morning'". Well he never called because he died on Saturday morning and that wonderful, honest bookie came to his funeral to be sure I got the three hundred dollars back.
From a 21 gun salute to an honest bookie.
That was Frank. What a guy!
|
Fisher-Gunn Families Genealogy
1902 - 1965 (~ 62 years)