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“He ate sausage, eggs, hot biscuits, fried applies and oatmeal,” Brown said. “Then he said he needed some medicine.” My father asked why. He said he didn’t have an appetite!”
“How can you say you don’t have an appetite?” asked Dr. Brown. “You just ate enough for three people.”
“I can eat your vi’ttles,” said the man. “I can’t eat my vi’ttles.”
“Later,” said Mr. Brown, “my father told us
that the man had nothing to eat in his home except fat meat with gravy and cornpone.” He gave the man some medicine, bought a basket and a broom, and the man left to walk home in his moccasins.
Nicholson, like many of Brown’s patients, could not pay the doctor. “The office visit charge was $1,” Brown said. “That included medicine. A house call was $2.”
Progress came slowly: first, Dr. Brown started sending prescriptions to the drugstore in Culpeper; then came a car and next, a telephone.
Dr. James Gideon Brown died in 1950 and was memorialized at a funeral that Harold Brown called “the biggest the county had ever seen.”
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