“Mickey and Me”: Memories by Bob Rimstidt

   

 

As the one year anniversary of my father’s passing approaches on Oct. 19th (he would have celebrated his 97th birthday on Oct. 24th), I am reminded of the large void left in my life by his absence. Nonetheless, memories of my late father warm my heart and soul. Recently, I received an e-mail from a former co-worker of my father, Bob Rimstidt, which included fond memories of “yesteryear” (favorite expression of my dad). 

To provide some context, Bob grew up in Southeastern Indiana on a hill farm in Downey’s Corner in Ohio County, IN. Of the one hundred and twenty-three acres, ninety acres were tillable and the rest were pasture for our milk cows.  Ohio County is the smallest county in Indiana and Rising Sun is the only town in the county.  He graduated from Rising Sun High School in 1953, and, in 1957, graduated from the Purdue University School of Pharmacy.  After initially working at Coan’s Pharmacy in Greencastle, Indiana, Dr. William Krieble, a physician in Terre Haute helped Bob get an interview at the A P & S Clinic. “They had their own pharmacist, Mickey Kor, but the clinic pharmacy had gotten busier and another pharmacist was needed.” Bob was hired on the spot by Chuck Cornelison, the manager of the Clinic.

Bob worked at the AP&S Clinic Pharmacy with my father from June of 1958 until February of 1962. Bob told me, “Working with Mickey was fun.  I can’t recall ever having an argument with him.  He was always cheerful and kind to everyone. I can still recall one lady customer who was short and hard of hearing.  Mickey would lean across the counter at the window and explain to her how she was to take her medicine.  He and I would take turns waiting on customers.  That’s how I met my wife.  When I took her prescription, I made sure I got her local address and telephone number.  After I had waited on her, I called medical records and asked if they could send her chart up to the pharmacy.  They did and that is when I found out she was raised on a farm also”. 

  My father and Bob shared many great stories. Apparently, when my dad ordered plastic prescription vials, the company would send fancy glass drinking glasses.  To this day, Bob still possesses some of the cocktail glasses with an RX inscribed on them with gold on the edge.  Since both were still single in the late 1950s, they shared many a dinner together.  To satisfy my father’s cravings for chicken cacciatore, they would dine at a restaurant on the west side of highway 41, just south of downtown Terre Haute.  On Sunday mornings, my dad always played tennis with Bob Holstein a local dentist. Always eager to introduce others to tennis, my father urged Bob to learn to play tennis. In 1959, to entice Bob, my father gave him a wood tennis racket with an “old fashioned brace” on it to keep the racket intact. 

  Like many in the community, Bob noticed my father’s unique driving style. Whether they were going to Clinton, Indiana (north of Terre Haute) or over to Marshall, IL to have dinner, my father would accelerate the motor for a few seconds and his car would speed up. Then he would release the pressure on the gas pedal and the car would slow down.  He kept doing that all the way to Clinton or Marshall. Years later, after I was born, I often noticed how slow my father would drive to Indianapolis. As cars would pass him, he would say, “There goes Mario Andretti!”

When my father was liberated by Lieutenant Colonel Nehf (from Terre Haute) and his troops near the Buchenwald concentration camp in the eastern part of Germany, he was handed a Coca Cola. Bob recalls, “Mickey loved to drink Coke.  When the American Army liberated his concentration camp, one of the soldiers handed Mickey a Coke.  That was the first American word he knew.  He kept drinking Cokes for the rest of his life.”

In 1960, my father went to Israel to visit his brother, Shlomo. His other brother (Leo) lived in Connecticut. As many readers already know, the 3 brothers were the only family members (i.e. Kor family) who survived the NAZIs during WWII.  In an effort to document his trip, prior to departure, Bob and my father bought a Bell & Howell movie camera (i.e. Stephen Jobs had not yet developed the smart phone.) with a carrying case.  He never used it, but met my mom, Eva. After a short romance during the summer that was dependent on translation dictionaries by both parties, they got married in Israel. 

After completing her Israeli army duties a few months later, my mom flew from Israel to New York City. While at my uncle’s (Leo) home in West Hartford, my mom phoned my dad to let him know that she had arrived safely. With great enthusiasm, my father said, “All of my friends, actually their wives, are planning a big shower when you get to Terre Haute!” On the other end, my mom was using her dictionary and responded, “Mickey: Tell your friends thank you very much but I take shower alone!”. Well, Bob was one of those friends involved. “We had a wedding shower for them at the Clinic.  Everyone gave them wedding presents so they could start housekeeping.  They bought a house on the east side, and they lived there many years.”

Since I was born, my parents had a piano in their house, and my father learned to play music by ear. He never had a music lesson, and thus was not able to read music.  Bob told me, “When my wife and I went over to visit them, he would entertain us by playing some songs from the Frank Sinatra era.  He was quite a piano player.  He would sometimes cross his hands on the keyboard in order to get all the notes in.  He was very entertaining.”

On Oct. 16th, 2021, Bob and his wife saw my dad for the last time. During the visit, 3 days before my father passed away, there was some occasional talk between the 3 of them. To my great surprise, Bob presented me with that 1959 tennis racket, a special keep-sake from my dad’s past.  

Bob referred to my father as his philosophy teacher because Bob never took a philosophy course in school.  As many that knew my father, he often made simple, but very clever philosophical statements like: 

“Once when we were talking about rich people he said, “But how many 7UPs can you drink?”  

“If at first you don’t succeed, read the directions” 

“Aim for the rim and the shots will fall”

“He who hesitates loses his parking place” 

Lastly, Bob told me, “He was a one of a kind person.  I’m glad that I got to know him and was able to work with him almost four years.  He was my hero.” 

Well Bob, looking back over the 60 plus years, it is obvious that my father, Mickey Kor, never changed. Prior to my birth and until his dying day, and now beyond, he was a treasure and is my hero too!

In fact, I think that Bette Mider’s 1980s song and words are most appropriate:

“ Did you ever know that you’re my hero

And everything I would like to be?

I can fly higher than an eagle

For you are the wind beneath my wings

It might have appeared to go unnoticed

But I’ve got it all here in my heart

I want you to know that I know the truth, of course, I know it

I would be nothing without you…”

Alex Kor

Carmel, IN