Jefferson County Online A part of the IAGenWeb and USGenWeb Projects Who's Who in 1921 & 1922 Amy Beers

"The Fairfield Tribune"
Thursday, November 10, 1921
Page SIX

NO. 35 (sic - should be 37)

Miss Amy Beers

When this department of the Tribune was inaugurated a definite policy of principles was adopted which was to be followed strictly without deviation. To tell the truth, the whole blunt, brutal truth regarding the notables and near-notables who were presented to readers was one of the principles. Another was that neither sex, age nor condition of servitude should operate to keep eligible subjects from being selected for the honor. Thus and why it is that a subject of the well known fairer sex, and of the alleged weaker sex, is thrust upon your notice today. With this explanation we hasten to present to you a lady of whom you have probably heard and, in case you have been so fortunate as to be sick and sent to the Jefferson County hospital, one you may have had the pleasure of knowing. Step aside gentlemen, and hats off while Miss Amy Beers, superintendent of the Jefferson County hospital, strolls down to the center of the stage and steps within the spotlight.

You will observe that Miss Beers is here depicted in her favorite occupation--armed with a temperature thermometer and first aid bottle, ready to extend succor to suffering humanity. The picture is drawn from a very graphic description give by a member of the hospital unit with whom she served in France. Miss Beers and her first aid outfit were inseparable companions over there--she'd be more likely to forget her powder puff than the outfit. It is related that a young French soldier, who had been fortunate enough to have his wounds attended to my (sic) Miss Beers and staff, sent an invitation to some of the hospital unit, among them Miss Beers, to attend his wedding some time after he had recovered and had been discharged from the hospital. Miss Beers went, absent-mindedly bringing her first aid.

Miss Beers didn't much like the idea of coming to Fairfield at first. She was holding a responsible position in a New York hospital but the offer to come here was very flattering. Still she was reluctant to come; finally she told the local committee which called on her that she didn't feel competent.

"Competent!" cried the committee. "Why, you're the most competent person we can think of and that's why we are here to get you to come. You understand your profession thoroughly and have had years of experience."

"Yes, but you see I've had no experience to speak of in gunshot and bowie knife wounds and I presume they constitute most of your surgical cases out there," replied Miss Amy.

You see she had an idea she was coming out to the wild and woolly--way out in Iowa--where, in the minds of the provincial New Yorkers, they still fought Indians.

Well, Miss Beers came--and stayed. A while back she got a yearning for effete East again, and went back. Didn't stay long though. Now she's back again and looks like she and the Jefferson County hospital are going to grow up together.

When Doc Clarke and his bunch of doctors and nurses went to France to patch up the soldiers the Boches insisted on slicing up, Miss Beers went along. She was of pretty good heft, steady on her feet and level in the head, so they put her on the shock team at the evacuation hospital. So far as can be learned she did nothing shocking in that position. Her first aid wasn't of any great consequence there because in the majority of cases the first aid was also the last aid. But the members of the unit declare the work that Miss Beers did here was a triumph of American nursing skill.

Wounded soldiers thought a good deal of Miss Beers for the good she did them. One of them, badly wounded, kept making every sort of a pretext to talk to her. Took up most of her time talking to him. She noticed that he kept repeating "Miss Beers" with every sentence that he addressed to her. One day she asked him why he did so.

"Why, you know the very mention of your name has something cheery about it," replied the wounded, and probably exceedingly dry, Yank.

With a cheery name such as that Miss Beers added a fine personality and a wonderful skill to her work "over there." She's done as much for the local hospital. In fact, she's put it up in the front ranks of hospitals, for be it known, the Jefferson County hospital stands mighty high among such institutions. And nurses who graduate from it are fully qualified because the capable superintendent is a good instructor and a good disciplinarian.

Miss Beers is fond of two outdoor games. One is tennis, which she plays; the other is golf, which she plays at. Says the reason she has more luck with tennis is because the stick which she uses with which to hit the ball is so much bigger. She hasn't set any records at golf.

The other day the State Nurses' association, wanting a president to head their organization, decided that Miss Beers would do very nicely. She's also on the state board of examiners for nurses--which is no slouch of a distinction.

Some way you feel that you should say "Amiable" instead of "Amy" when you speak of or to Miss Beers, for she's all of that. So convinced of the fact of her amiability is the cartoonist that he really feels no fear because he depicted her as looking so dreadfully much older than she really is. And, anyway, suppose she should beat him up--couldn't he have himself sent to the hospital for repairs and she'd have to patch him up--professional ethics wouldn't allow her to do otherwise.