Paul V. Coates — Confidential File, July 28, 1959

July 28, 1959: Los Angeles Mirror cover

Confidential File

When Cash Register Is Replacing a Heart

The Almighty Dollar, that great object of universal devotion
— Washington Irving.

Paul Coates, in coat and tieSandra Gianoulis, 8, of Glendale, went to a drive-in theater last week with her mother.

They got there at 7:30. Sandra played for a while with her sister, Lynn, 7, in a recreation area on the premises. They returned to their mother’s car just before dusk.

However, a few minutes before the show was to start, the girls decided to go to the snack bar.

Lynn got out of the car first. Sandra followed, slamming the door behind her. Then, she screamed.

The middle finger of her left hand was caught in the closed door.

Quickly, her mother opened it, freeing the finger. It was bleeding badly. The tip was hanging loosely, not quite completely severed.

July 28, 1959: Strippers on the Sunset Strip, like Candy Barr.Mrs. Gianoulis rushed her daughter up to a young man working at the snack bar. His name was Jim Hillis. (His personal statistics: Age, 21, Married, with a couple kids of his own — ages 18 months and 3 months. He holds down two jobs to pay the
way for his family.)

Hillis wrapped the girl’s bleeding hand in a clean towel and led the mother and daughter to his car. He sped them to the North Hollywood Hospital, less than a mile away.

They rushed into the admittance room. A doctor was there and they talked briefly with him.

He told them that to receive treatment, they’d have to check with the nurse at the desk.

So they approached the nurse at the desk.

July 28, 1959: Strippers on the Sunset Strip
Could Mrs. Gianoulis pay for the treatment, the nurse wanted to know.

Yes, the anxious mother replied, she could. The family had health insurance with Travelers.

The nurse asked for proof, but Mrs. Gianoulis didn’t have any. Hurriedly, she rummaged through her purse for a card — anything. But all she had was $3, which wasn’t enough.

The nurse said she was sorry.

Then Mrs. Gianoulis made some phone calls. She called her husband, who was bowling. He had no health insurance card either. The policy was at home, but time was too valuable now. Without immediate treatment, the girl might lose the
end of her finger.

Sandra sat on a stool, still bleeding, crying. “My best finger,” she was saying.

A little boy came in for treatment of a foot injury. He received prompt
attention and left. He, apparently, had the proper credentials.

Hillis and Mrs. Gianoulis continued to plead the case of Sandra.

“Not without money,” they were told.

In desperation, Hillis asked if he could write a check. This, to the angels of mercy, was a most-appealing idea.

July 28, 1959: Dear Abby “How much?” he asked.

“Fifty dollars,” said a doctor.

“No,” said the lady in the white uniform. “Better make it a hundred.”

Hillis wrote out the check. He was assured that it would be returned if Mrs Gianoulis had the proper insurance.

Immediately, Sandra was taken to the X-ray room. A specialist — called in to
perform the surgery — reported that there was a fracture, that he wasn’t sure whether he could save the finger.

He spent 45 minutes working on Sandra. He apparently did an excellent job.

That ‘Best Finger’ Saved

In fact, Mrs. Gianoulis is very pleased with the care given by the hospital. During her three days there, Sandra received the best attention.

Young Hillis got his $100 check back. The insurance covered all the expenses except $24, which Mrs. Gianoulis was careful to take with her last Wednesday when she went for Sandra. (She had been informed by another nurse that the $24 “will have to be paid before your daughter can leave.”)

The report yesterday was that it looks like Sandra’s finger is healing fine. She’s not going to lose it, after all.

Which is, I guess, a very happy ending to an atrocious tale about the high price of mercy.

Note: This is by no means an isolated incident. The newspapers of the 1950s are full of stories just like this one in which hospitals turned away injured people who could not pay for treatment in advance.–lrh

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About lmharnisch

I am retired from the Los Angeles Times
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