[Skip to Content]
[Skip to Content Landing]
August 17, 1957


JAMA. 1957;164(16):1843-1844. doi:10.1001/jama.1957.62980160019019

This article is only available in the PDF format. Download the PDF to view the article, as well as its associated figures and tables.


High on a hill overlooking the sprawling, bursting-at-the-seams city of Pusan, Korea—swelled by thousands of refugees from the Communist north—four American doctors, who wear a special and distinctive habit, examine and treat the sick who line up outside their door by the hundreds, often as early as midnight. They are the Maryknoll Sisters of St. Dominic.

"They just bed down and wait for us," said Sister Angelica, the Superior, and a nurse by training, showing me the long line that stretched out of sight down a cobblestoned alley to the street. "I've gradually persuaded them not to start a line at 2 a. m., but as it is, they're there when we get up—there before dawn."

I looked down the line, and as far as the eye could see were the sick, the halt, the lame, the blind; little wrinkled old women sprawled on faded, tattered pieces of canvas.... infants

First Page Preview View Large
First page PDF preview
First page PDF preview