One of the joys of practicing medicine is getting to know patients. In sixteen years of practice, I’ve met some extraordinary individuals. None have been more extraordinary than Father Paul Gallatin.  

Father Gallatin is a retired Catholic priest in Oklahoma City. He’s a delightful person and a fine raconteur. I always look forward to his visits.  We have common interests: reading and travel. He usually schedules his appointment at the end of the day, which allows me to spend more time with him. 

Conversing with him is a pleasure. He is thoughtful, witty, and kind. At each visit, he gives me a book. On one occasion, he brought The Viper’s Tangle, a novel by Francois Mauriac.  On another occasion, he brought Diary of a Country Priest by Georges Bernanos. Like me, he is a Francophile. He loves French literature, gothic cathedrals, French cuisine, and the landscape of Provence.

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One summer afternoon after a long day in the clinic, I went to my office, logged on to the computer, and visited Open Salon. Checking the “Updates,” I noticed that one of my favorite writers, Paul J. O’Rourke, had published a post. (Paul lives in Massachusetts. He’s a splendid writer – and very witty.) The post was entitled “George Washington Slept in My Uncle Albert’s Bed.”  It was a true story about an ancestor who came to America in 1780, taught French at Harvard, and moved to Pennsylvania where he met George Washington.  

Reading the post, I was struck by the name of Paul’s ancestor: Albert Gallatin. I sent Paul a message inquiring about the name, mentioning that I had a patient named Gallatin, a retired Catholic priest. Paul's reply left me speechless: His uncle was a retired Catholic priest in Oklahoma City; his name -- Gallatin! For a moment, I thought Paul was joking. I sent him a message, scolding him for playing tricks. Paul responded by referring me to another of his posts: “Freedom! A Childhood Lesson in Civil Rights.”

I read it. It was a marvelous tribute to a beloved uncle – a man who had marched from Selma to Montgomery with Martin Luther King, who had struggled for racial equality, who had advocated for the humane treatment of all living creatures -- who had been a Catholic priest in Oklahoma City – who would become, as it would turn out, my patient, Father Gallatin!  For the first time, my life as a physician had merged with my life as an Open Salonist. I had learned about my patient's extraordinary life by reading Open Salon!

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When Father Gallatin returned to the clinic several weeks later, I told him I had an essay I wanted him to read. I gave him his nephew’s OS piece.

At first, he was perplexed. He looked curiously at the page. Then epiphany struck. Curiosity gave way to amazement. He smiled and began to chuckle. Soon he was laughing, making no attempt to conceal his delight. I noticed a quiver in his voice; he was profoundly moved by his nephew’s piece. At the end of the visit, I walked with him to the check-out desk. His eyes were fixed on the page. As he left the clinic, he glanced periodically at the essay. His smile was as bright as heaven.

I returned to my office and thought about Father Gallatin and Paul -- the priest and the blogger. Decades ago, the priest had taught his nephew about respect, kindness, and love. And today, on a splendid summer afternoon at the doctor’s office, through a medium called Open Salon, the priest discovered how well the lesson had been learned.