.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
CHAPTER SIX
at City Hospital
To provide for equal opportunity for all citizens of Cleveland to receive training as nurses or interns at the Cleveland City Hospital.”
“
FOR US, BY US
The Black American Health Dilemma
ON JULY 1, 1931, FREDERICK DOUGLASS STUBBS, MD, WALKED THROUGH THE DOORS OF CITY HOSPITAL AND MADE HISTORY: he was the first Black American intern at a Cleveland hospital and the second Black American intern at a major teaching hospital in the United States.1
That walk was years in the making.
In the 1920s, Black doctors, Black nurses, and their advocates were split into two camps: those who pushed for separate healthcare facilities for Black Americans and those who advocated for widespread integration. At the time, City Hospital served Black patients, but it excluded Black Clevelanders from the ranks of doctors, nurses, interns, and residents. For a city-funded hospital, it was a plain case of taxation without representation. In fall 1927, Black leaders in Cleveland met with Dudley S. Blossom, the City’s director of public health and welfare and supervisor to the superintendent of City Hospital, to push for the integration of the hospital. Reportedly, Blossom rebuffed the request, replying, “I am not going to allow Negro [sic] boys and girls to train at City Hospital.”2 When a city bond proposal to help finance City Hospital came up for a vote that November, it failed. Black leaders took credit for its defeat. And they promised similar results in the future, unless Mr. Blossom changed his position.
In December 1927, under pressure from the Interracial Committee of the Federated Churches, Cleveland City Manager William R. Hopkins appointed a committee to investigate whether other hospitals in the United States were admitting Black doctors, nurses, and interns.3 The committee included Mr. Blossom and John H. McMorries, MD, a local physician in his eleventh year of private practice and the committee’s only Black member.
.webp)
In 1930, the first Black women entered the City Hospital nurses’ training program: Miss Dorothea Davis (left), Miss Gracie Rice (center), and Miss Edna Wooley (right).
.webp)
.webp)
.webp)
Working quickly, committee members visited Black and White hospitals across the country; interviewed hospital administrators, doctors, and nursing school leaders; and issued their report in January 1928. With one or two exceptions, Black and White interview subjects recommended against the admission of Black interns, nurses, and doctors. The report noted that those interviewed felt that integration at City Hospital would reduce the quality of its applicants and damage its reputation. Several institutions that currently sent interns or student nurses to City Hospital said they would not continue to do so if their graduates had to work alongside Black caregivers. Some nursing school principals claimed it would be unfair to subject Black nurses to the inevitable humiliation, embarrassment, ostracism, and prejudice they would find beyond Black hospitals.4
“For the good of the whole,” the committee concluded, “the time is not ripe for trying an experiment that seems so void of promise of success and so full of danger of a serious and disastrous failure.”5 The committee included an informal recommendation that City Hospital work with Western Reserve University to place a Black physician on the outpatient staff and another on the visiting staff to “give the colored [sic] people of Cleveland a representation at City Hospital.”6
On July 20, 1928, committee member Dr. McMorries was appointed to City Hospital’s surgical outpatient team. City Hospital thereby became Cleveland’s second hospital with a Black physician on staff. (Dr. Charles Garvin’s position as assistant surgeon at Lakeside Hospital began in 1919.) Fierce debate continued among Black Clevelanders over the central dilemma for Black doctors, nurses, and medical students: develop separate institutions or agitate for integration.
In 1929, E.J. Gregg, MD, one of the three Black members of Cleveland City Council, shared a proposal for an East Side branch of City Hospital where Black doctors and nurses could serve. Despite the backing of the city manager and most of the local Black physicians, the proposal failed. That November, three Black men—attorney Lawrence O. Payne, dentist Leroy Bundy, and lawyer and former Cleveland NAACP President Clayborne George—ran for City Council. All pledged to integrate City Hospital. All won council seats. On January 13, 1930, City Council passed a resolution “to provide for equal opportunity for all citizens of Cleveland to receive training as nurses or interns at the Cleveland City Hospital.”7
On January 13, 1930, City Council passed a resolution “to provide for equal opportunity for all citizens of Cleveland to receive training as nurses or interns at the Cleveland City Hospital.”
.webp)
THE CLEVELAND
PHYSICIAN
September 1984
OPEN UP THE GATES
With little coverage in the local press, the first Black women entered the nurses’ training program in September 1930. In 1931, two Black nurses joined the staff. The search for the first Black intern, though, proceeded more slowly. Black community leaders knew that the success of the first Black intern depended upon his academic credentials, as well as his ability to manage the burden shouldered by the first Black person to integrate any institution. “He had to be the most likely to maintain his talents at a competitive peak while withstanding pressure and abuse. He needed the self-control to avoid reacting to his tormentors without sacrificing his dignity”: the words of Branch Rickey—the general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers when Jackie Robinson broke the color line of Major League Baseball—apply equally well to the best candidate to integrate the intern program at City Hospital.8
Councilman Payne and others inquired with leading medical schools about their Black students. Harvard recommended Dr. Stubbs: his father was a physician, he excelled as an undergraduate at Dartmouth College, and he was the first Black American admitted to Harvard’s medical school honor society. Payne traveled to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to offer him the position. That summer, Dr. Stubbs began working at City Hospital.
It wasn’t easy.
James Morgan, MD, a White intern paired with Dr. Stubbs, later wrote of their first day: “Stubbs and I sat down at a half empty table and immediately two or three got up abruptly and left. I was so naive I did not realize what had happened. . . . After lunch, Dr. Stubbs explained the facts of life to me; that they had been southerners who were simply honor bound not to eat at a table with a black.”9
Still, Dr. Stubbs performed well. He especially impressed Sam O. Freedlander, MD, Chief of Surgery, with whom he shared an interest in thoracic surgery. Dr. Freedlander awarded Dr. Stubbs a fellowship in thoracic training. Years later, the Journal of the National Medical Association described how significantly Dr. Stubbs changed healthcare in America. “The availability of so superior a man as Dr. Stubbs for the pioneering year was very fortunate. Since Dr. Stubbs there has been an uninterrupted succession of Negro [sic] interns at City Hospital, many of whom stayed on for complete residencies in the various fields. There has also been much collateral progress. The number of Negro [sic] physicians has increased to more than 60. In 1947 there were only two colored [sic] board certified specialists in Cleveland. In 1956 there were 11. In 1959, there were 13.”10
Through the 1930s, the annual enrollment of Black interns and residents remained steady at one to three at City Hospital.
administering care,
c. 1950.
Over the years,
MetroHealth continued to
expand its efforts to
be more inclusive—in
those it hired and those
it cared for.
In summer 1933, Dr. Stubbs moved to Philadelphia. Soon after, he married a concert pianist, fathered two daughters, and continued to play a trailblazing role at public hospitals. In 1936, Mayor Samuel D. Wilson appointed him Assistant Surgeon at Philadelphia General Hospital—the first Black American on its staff. In 1937, he sought more surgical training and spent a year at Sea View Hospital in New York City. At the time, Dr. Stubbs was the only Black American with thoracic surgery training in the United States, when the number of Black Americans suffering from pulmonary tuberculosis was still on the rise. He later held positions, including Chief Surgeon, at Douglass Memorial Hospital and Mercy Hospital in Philadelphia.
In April 1940, Time magazine highlighted Dr. Stubbs’s work at Douglass Hospital, noting his groundbreaking contributions to the procedure of thoracoplasty—rib surgery for collapsing the lung—which saved the lives of many patients with advanced cases of tuberculosis. Seven years later, Dr. Stubbs died of a massive heart attack. He was 40 years old.
Through the 1930s, the annual enrollment of Black interns and residents remained steady at one to three at City Hospital. One of the most notable successors to Dr. Stubbs was Ulysses G. Mason, Jr. Like Dr. Stubbs, Dr. Mason’s father was a physician. He sent young Ulysses north from Alabama to Chicago to attend better primary and secondary schools. Dr. Mason graduated from Amherst College in Massachusetts, worked as a Pullman porter, and enrolled at the University of Chicago Medical School. At City Hospital, he did a one-year internship and a two-year residency. After serving as chief resident in 1939, Dr. Mason followed Dr. McMorries and Dr. L. O. Baumgardner to become the third Black physician at City Hospital.
In October of that year, Dr. Mason invited Black American physicians in Cleveland to explore the possibility of opening a hospital for Black doctors, staff, and patients. “The time has come for us to unite and formulate a program which will eventuate in the procurement and development of an institution where we can take our patients and not be hampered by the restrictions which so severely limit us at present,” he wrote in announcing the meeting.11 It took years, but Forest City Hospital opened its doors in August 1957, with 92 beds, a nursery, a 100-person staff, eight resident physicians, and Dr. Mason as its first board president. The hospital included departments of medicine, surgery, obstetrics and gynecology, and general practice. The facility included a laboratory, outpatient clinics, and an emergency room.
In June 1960, Dr. Mason took over as president of the medical staff at City Hospital, becoming the first Black American to hold this position at any hospital in Cleveland—Forest City excepted.12 Dr. Mason served as president through 1962 and passed the reins to another Black physician, Dr. Middleton H. Lambright, Jr., who held the post through 1965.13
Dr. Mason invited Black American physicians in Cleveland to explore the possibility of opening a hospital for Black doctors, staff, and patients.
THE KENNETH W. CLEMENT
CENTER FOR FAMILY
HEALTH CARE
In 1966, White owners of the Seventy-Niner’s Café at East 79th Street and Hough Avenue refused service to a Black patron. They claimed the man tried to drink a less expensive pint of to-go wine at the bar, instead of buying the more profitable wine by the glass. The man left, came back, and taped a hand-scrawled sign to the bar: “This Place Will Not Serve Coloreds [sic].”14
A crowd gathered. The bar owners brandished guns. A hail of bricks and rocks chased the bar owners from the street. Eventually, the police arrived. Spontaneous sniper fire from the rooftops incited bedlam—or so it seemed. And Mayor Ralph Locher called in the National Guard. When the Hough Rebellion ended, four people—all Black residents—had died, 30 others suffered injuries, and 300 were arrested. Over 200 fires lit up the night and, when the ashes finally cooled, up to $2 million in property had been damaged—equal to more than $17 million in 2022.15
A few blocks away, a few staff members at the Cleveland Clinic understood that the rebellion reflected widespread dissatisfaction with “housing conditions, employment ‘opportunities,’ city services, police treatment, and other unsolved problems.”16 In 1971, the interests of MetroHealth and the Clinic aligned when City officials pushed for the development of a primary care center to serve Black residents in their own communities. For the MetroHealth facility, the Cleveland Clinic agreed to contribute $100,000 annually for the first two years and share personnel duties for the first five years.
The $4.5 million facility opened its doors in 1976 as the Kenneth W. Clement Center for Family Health Care, to honor the legacy of Kenneth W. Clement, MD, a surgeon with a distinguished record in medical, civic, and humanitarian affairs. Dr. Clement grew up in Cleveland, attended Oberlin College and Howard University, and, in 1951, completed his residency at City Hospital. In the Air Force, he served as a flight surgeon, deputy commanding officer, and chief of professional services at the Lockbourne Air Force Base Hospital, outside Columbus.
Upon his return to Cleveland, Dr. Clement practiced as a visiting surgeon at MetroHealth. In 1963, he was appointed by President John F. Kennedy as the first physician and Black American on the National Social Security Advisory Council.17 He later served in leadership roles for the Cuyahoga County Cancer Society, the Cleveland Urban League, and the Cleveland chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union. Dr. Clement also understood the value of direct action. His civil rights work included walking picket lines against racial discrimination at the Cleveland Clinic and at the American Medical Association in Chicago. Soon after, the Clinic hired its first Black physician in 1962. At the time of his death in 1974, Dr. Clement was serving his third term as vice chairman on the board of trustees of the Cuyahoga County Hospital System.
place on February 29, the last day of Black History
Month, with 400 dignitaries in attendance.
The 1976 Clement Center dedication ceremony took place on February 29, the last day of Black History Month, with 400 dignitaries in attendance.
The 1976 Clement Center dedication ceremony took place on February 29, the last day of Black History Month, with 400 dignitaries in attendance. Jonathan Bryant, 75, retired city employee, watched the pomp from his home with growing curiosity. “I haven’t been to a doctor since 1957,” he told the Plain Dealer. “But I think I’m going to walk over there tomorrow and see if they can do something for me.”
“Bryant is in a typical situation,” the reporter wrote. “An elderly person, he lives in a neighborhood where until now there was no healthcare.”18 (Note: the Clement Center was less than 1.5 miles from the main campus of the Cleveland Clinic.) The Center offered primary medical care for adults and children; dental care, eye care, and hearing evaluations; OB/GYN services; and a pharmacy. As a county facility, the Center was committed to the mission of MetroHealth and delivered quality care for all, regardless of their ability to pay.
In its third week, community members expressed a mix of enthusiasm and consternation about the Center. Some regarded its location as unfavorable. Others indicated surprise that its opening coincided with the closing of the county health clinic on East 35th Street. Still, the report noted, “The health center director Dr. Henry D. Ziegler and his staff are competent and sincere in their effort to serve the community,” and went on to praise Dr. Ziegler for answering questions about the center raised in the letter.19 A Community Advisory Council was created to improve communication between the Center and local residents.
In 1979, Dr. Ziegler rolled out the Golden Age Outreach for Health (GOH) program at the Center. The program targeted 600 local senior residents and enlisted and trained volunteers to “go out, visit, and monitor the well-being of the senior citizens on their particular street.”20 By 1985, the GOH program offered a ten-week training program for volunteers that concluded with diplomas for the graduates.
The center offered primary medical care for adults and children; dental care, eye care, and hearing evaluations; OB/GYN services; and a pharmacy.
In 1989, the Clement Center was renamed the MetroHealth Clement Center for Family Care. In 2004, the facility closed.
In 1989, the Clement Center was renamed the MetroHealth Clement Center for Family Care. In 2004, the facility closed. Two years later, MetroHealth staff ensured the preservation of Kenneth Clement’s legacy with the dedication of the Kenneth W. Clement, MD, Conference Center in April 2006, at the MetroHealth Broadway Health Center. In 2014, Dr. Clement was inducted into the MetroHealth Medical Hall of Honor.
Over the years, MetroHealth continued to expand its efforts to be more inclusive—in those it hired and those it cared for. E. Harry Walker, MD, drove much of that in his roles as primary care physician, Senior Vice President for Ambulatory Operations, Executive Director of Primary Care with the Patient Care Unit, Director of MetroHealth’s Center of Community Health, and Interim Associate Chief Operating Officer before retiring in 2015.
The graduate of Cleveland’s John Adams High School and the University of Cincinnati College of Medicine completed his residency and internship at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Cleveland and came to MetroHealth in 1982. With a strong belief that good health required more than medical treatment, he quickly turned his focus to making sure patients had access to the other services they needed. He did that in addition to providing medical care to those without housing through Cleveland Healthcare for the Homeless and his work with the incarcerated as Medical Director at the Cuyahoga County jail.
Dr. Walker was also one of the architects of the Community Advocacy Program, a collaboration formed in 2003 between MetroHealth and the Legal Aid Society of Cleveland. The Advocacy Program focused on helping families, the elderly, immigrants, pregnant women, and those who had been incarcerated. It worked by pairing MetroHealth doctors with Legal Aid lawyers to help patients overcome the legal barriers to good health such as safe housing, relief from domestic violence, and obtaining Social Security disability benefits. The program was the first of its kind in Ohio and the fourth in the nation.21 Later, Dr. Walker helped expand it to MetroHealth locations beyond the health system’s main campus.
Dr. Walker was also a leader in developing the Community Advocacy Program’s Re-Entry Clinic at MetroHealth’s Broadway Health Center, which provided medical and legal help to those who had served time behind bars. He served as the initial primary physician there as well as an advocate for patients in that program.
In 2014, he was named a Crain’s Cleveland Business Health Care Hero for his work in those programs, which have helped thousands of people throughout Cuyahoga County and continue to operate. In 2021, he was appointed to The MetroHealth System Board of Trustees.
MetroHealth’s commitment to diversity went beyond race. In 2007, the health system opened the Pride Clinic, the first in the region devoted to serving the health needs of the LGBTQ+ community. In 2015, the health system also launched its annual transgender job fair.
And diversity in hiring remains a priority.
That was made clear in 2018 when MetroHealth hired Cleveland native Alan Nevel as Senior Vice President, Chief Diversity and Human Resources Officer, overseeing both diversity and hiring. Mr. Nevel’s work included the launch of an intensive self-examination effort designed to identify and root out unconscious bias and inequities in all processes, policies, and individual encounters throughout The MetroHealth System. In September 2021, Mr. Nevel was promoted to Chief Equity Officer to eliminate disparities and make equity a central principle in all aspects of MetroHealth’s work. That announcement coincided with the hiring of Charles Modlin, MD, who had been working as Executive Director of Minority Health at the Cleveland Clinic, where the urologist and kidney transplant surgeon launched the annual Minority Men’s Health Fair in 2003. That clinic provided nearly 35,000 free health screenings and examinations over 18 years to men of all races and ethnic backgrounds, and it continued at MetroHealth under Dr. Modlin’s direction beginning in April 2022. As MetroHealth’s first Medical Director, Equity, Inclusion, and Diversity, Dr. Modlin’s duties include recruiting a more diverse medical staff, building a more inclusive culture, and reducing health disparities.
In 2021, 44 percent of employees hired by MetroHealth were racially or ethnically diverse, identifying as American Indian, Alaskan Native, Asian, Black or African American, Hawaiian, Pacific Islander, Hispanic or Latino, or two or more races.
In 2021, 44 percent of employees hired by MetroHealth were racially or ethnically diverse, identifying as American Indian, Alaskan Native, Asian, Black or African American, Hawaiian, Pacific Islander, Hispanic or Latino, or two or more races.
In 2021, 44 percent of employees hired by MetroHealth were racially or ethnically diverse, identifying as American Indian, Alaskan Native, Asian, Black or African American, Hawaiian, Pacific Islander, or Hispanic or Latino.
