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Originally published in the Historic Nantucket, Volume 39, Number 4 (Winter 1991)

Dr. Wylie L. Collins came to the island in November of 1928 to commence a career of service to Nantucket that spanned more than half a century.

His Work Was His Hobby
By Doug Burch
Photos from the Collins family collection

"My most unusual patient? Hmmm...". The old doctor pondered for a moment or two before his face lit up with a delighted smile. "Why, I guess it was a horse that belonged to old Mr. Murray, Phil's father. He had this horse to draw his buggy. The horse got hit by a car and had a gash about ten or twelve inches long in his abdomen. I was the only surgeon on the island, so they called me down there. I didn't know what to do — I didn't know anything about doctoring animals — so 1 just went down there and sewed him up outdoors down at Consue. We just did it, that's all. We didn't get hurt doing it. That horse was pretty good. He didn't object a bit."

Still lean and handsome at 92, Dr. Wylie L. Collins settled back on the comfortably worn leather couch in what was his waiting room and remembered...

"I left the stitches in a couple of weeks. He was glad when I took out the stitches and he behaved himself then, too. The horse seemed to like it. When I took them out he was all set to go again."

Wylie Louis Collins was born on the family farm and apple orchard in Port Williams, Nova Scotia, on March 11, 1899. He was the son of Annie McKittrick and Dexter S. Collins and a direct descendant of the Reverend George Gillmore (1720-1811), the first minister of the Church of the Covenanter in Grand Pre' in the land of Evangeline, Nova Scotia. Wylie grew up on the farm, doing chores and helping with the cows and the orchard while attending local schools in Port Williams.

Collins graduated from Acadia University in Wolfville, Nova Scotia, in 1921 and con-tinued there, earning his master's degree the following year.

"I don't really know why I decided to study medicine in the first place. I grew up on a farm, and I was just crazy enough to go ahead and spend the money to do it; so, with the help of the family, I did."

Dr. Collins did indeed, graduating from Harvard Medical School in 1926. Following internship in surgery at Boston City Hospital, and in obstetrics at Boston Lying-in Hospital he served his residency at the State Cancer Hospital in Wrentham.

"I wasn't too keen on that. We spent most of our time just examining tissue samples and such. It was frustrating taking care of those people when you knew it wasn't much good. I wanted to be somewhere where I could be of some use."

That "somewhere" turned out to be Nan-tucket. Upon completing his residency, Dr. Collins learned that there was an opening here following the death of an elderly physician who had practiced on Nantucket for several years, so he came to the island in November of 1928 to commence a career of service to Nantucket and Nantucketers that spanned more than half a century.

Dr. Collins drove to Woods Hole in his small car, which was towed across the Cape Cod Canal on an open barge (the railroad bridge was the only span crossing the canal back then). A few hours later, as the autumn dusk darkened into night, he drove off the Nobska, up Broad Street, and then to the office at 31 Centre Street where he hung out his shingle and began his practice.

In the fall of 1928 there were three other doctors on the island: Dr. Frank Lewis, also on Centre Street, who did not do surgery; Dr. George Folger, who practiced obstetrics but no surgery; and the semi-retired Dr. Roberts whose office at the corner of Pine and Darling streets saw little activity.

As Nantucket's only surgeon, Dr. Collins's practice quickly grew, but not without some significant complications. The old Cottage Hospital on West Chester Street had no X-ray machine and its laboratory facilities were so basic as to be almost primitive. Dr. Collins solved this problem in the pragmatic, decisive manner which has characterized his entire life — he bought his own X-ray machine and laboratory equipment. As part of his medical training he had studied radiology, so he was able to read and interpret his X-rays by himself. He did his own lab work, purchased his own surgical instruments, and was his own anesthetist as well. Those were busy days!

Long days, too. His office hours began before dawn, so he could tend to the needs of Nantucket's working men, and usually lasted into the evening. Mornings were devoted to house and hospital calls, regular office hours filled the afternoons, and lab work, record keeping, and study kept him at his office until all hours. And there were always various emergencies and regular turns in the Cottage Hospital Emergency Room (on a volunteer basis) to add to this hectic schedule. "I used to see about fifty patients a day, every day, back then," Dr. Collins remembers.

More than a few of them were "courtesy" patients. Dr. Collins performed surgical procedures for the other island doctors as well as his own patients.

There was a steady stream of emergency cases. They ranged from island accident victims to fishermen and sailors who put in at Nantucket because it was the closest port where help was available.

"Some of those fellows were in pretty bad shape," the doctor remembers. "They had been at sea for a long time and by the time they got here they would have a ruptured appendix or bleeding ulcers or gangrenous limbs. 1 had to take off some hands and feet and even a couple of arms and legs. I did my own anesthesia, too; usually a spinal."

His professional life wasn't all grim, however. Dr. Collins recalls a few occasions when, during those days of Prohibition, he would write a prescription for an alcoholic beverage for certain favored patients. "They paid me three bucks for those. Pretty good."

The Doctor's fees—when he was paid— were two or three dollars for an office visit, five dollars for a house call, and".. .the whole baby package—prenatal care, delivery, and pediatriccare—cost thirty dollars." Dr. Collins chuckles quietly. "I've a couple of big boxes of unpaid bills dating way back. I guess you could say that 1 own quite a few of your neighbors."

Dr. Collins's practice continued to expand as he became firmly established. During those early years he was assisted in the operating room by Miss Anderson, Goldie Howes, and, later, by Eileen Terry and Ceci Huyser. "They were wonderful people, very loyal nurses and willing to work at all hours, whenever needed." Jack Driscoll, the maintenance man at the hospital, was also extremely helpful with Dr. Collins's patients,"a jack of all trades," according to Louise Collins.

One spring evening in 1933 Dr. Collins was invited to dinner by Dr. George Folger. Among the guests was the bright and beautiful Louise Wilkins Coffin. Her vivacious ways captured Dr. Collins's attention.

And kept it. Just three weeks later the couple eloped. Dr. Collins was so constantly busy that there was no time for a formal wedding, so they fled the island and got married on the mainland.

The following day President Roosevelt declared the bank holiday, which marked the beginning of the New Deal. That also marked the end of the Collins honeymoon. All the banks were closed so the newlyweds could not procure funds to pay for a nuptial trip. The honeymoon was spent visiting Louise's sister in Milford, New Hampshire.

On returning to Nantucket the Collinses lived at the Roberts House for a while until space affording both a home and an office became available at the Ocean House Annex on Broad Street. In 1938 Dr. Collins rented the house at 17 Broad Street and purchased it three years later. It has been the Collins home and office ever since. Dr. Collins's practice continued as busy as be fore, made even busier by his helping the other island doctors with their surgical procedures.

Throughout these hard-working years Dr. Collins was helped by Mrs. Jean Egan, his nurse for more than two decades. Louise also assisted by supervising the various secretaries who worked in the office and by answering the telephone when it rang so often outside of regular office hours.

As the 1930s drew to a close Dr. Collins and the other Nantucket physicians welcomed new arrivals to the island. Transportation facilities continued to improve and expand and more and more doctors, many of them specialists, were visiting here on a fairly regular basis, offering a wider spectrum of skills and services.

While this additional help served to stabilize Dr. Collins's case load to some degree, he took on further responsibilities when he was appointed to care for Navy, Coast Guard, and Army personnel who were stationed here during the years immediately preceding our entry into World War II.

After Pearl Harbor Dr. Collins was appointed to the Draft Board. He served for a short time before joining the Army himself. "One of the reasons I signed up was because I was getting tired of delivering babies all hours of the day and night," he says with mock seriousness.

Following field medical training in Pennsylvania, Captain Collins, accompanied by Louise and his children, drove to his assignment as Post Surgeon at Fort Screven near Savannah, Georgia. The Collinses checked in at a nearby motel in midafternoon and Captain Collins drove to the installation to report for duty. Louise recalls: "I waited and waited, wondering what could possibly take so long. Finally, at about six o'clock in the morning, he staggered, exhausted, into the room. He had no sooner reported to the commanding officer than he was put to work delivering two babies!"

While Dr. Collins was stationed at Fort Screven the post newspaper printed a story about him under the headline 'His Work Is His Hobby.1 Louise comments: "so true, so true."

The year and a half at Fort Screven was much like Dr. Collins's Nantucket practice. The busy days and nights were occupied with caring for the troops and delivering babies. Louise and the children were nearby. Hospital equipment was ample and modern.

This agreeable duty changed drastically when Dr. Collins was promoted to major and assigned to the post of commanding officer and chief surgeon at the 328th Station Hospital on Attu in the Aleutian Islands. His hospital there was a Quonset hut buried in snow. Equipment and supplies were a constant problem. More often than not, the doctor recalls, requisitions were returned with the notation "Not available. Make do."

The case load was heavy, too. Besides providing the care required for the men stationed at this rugged outpost, Dr. Collins was called upon to treat a steady stream of injured and wounded sailors put ashore here from naval vessels operating in the area. Once again he served as his own anesthetist. "Many of these men were in serious condition. The best we could do was stabilize them so they could be flown back to the States."

Following Japan's surrender, orders were cut to destroy Attu's fuel and ammunition dumps. "Somebody stuck a knife in the wrong place and the whole thing went up in a tremendous explosion." Dr. Collins worked around the clock for nearly two days treating burn victims, an experience which would serve him in good stead two decades later.

After the war Dr. Collins resumed his Nantucket practice. Things were a bit easier now. There were more doctors on the island, both full time and visiting, offering a broad range of specialized skills and services. The hospital was better equipped and transportation for critical patients was readily available.

"Blood transfusions were few and far between back then, so we lost a couple of people in spite of the great work everybody did." Characteristically, Dr. Collins thinks first of his disappointments as he tells about the few frantic days in 1956 when survivors of the Andrea Doria were brought to Nantucket. Then his face brightens as he comments on the teamwork of island volunteers who worked together to help the disaster victims. "Everybody pulled together quickly and ably, no questions asked. It was a good job."

"There was a baby on the way when I got the call about that crash." Dr. Collins was referring to the Northeast Airlines plane that went down at Nantucket Airport in 1958. Once again the Nantucket community rallied to the rescue. "Everything worked so smoothly—the coordination with the hospital and with Boston was amazing and our volunteer team meshed just as though we had rehearsed all this, which we hadn't. There were a lot of badly burned people. It sort of brought back the way things were that time on Attu. We worked right through the night. I finally got home about six in the morning and was getting ready for bed when the phone rang. The baby was coming. I never did get to bed that day."

Dr. Collins didn't slow down even though the increase in medical services now available to the island would have permitted him to do so. He continued caring for an ever growing number of patients while simultaneously becoming increasingly involved in community affairs. He commenced a thirty-year term of duty on Nantucket's Selective Service Board and served simultaneously on the School Committee, and as Town Physician for four years during that period. Dr. Collins was also president of the Nantucket Hospital in 1964, and was appointed an Honorary Member of that staff after his retirement in 1980.

Mrs. Collins recalls: "Dr. Collins kept up with his continuing education all those years. He attended different courses in Orlando and Saint Petersburg, Florida, and in New York and Boston, among other places. Our son and daughter were pretty well grown by then, so I went with him and really enj oyed
those trips. He was so very busy all the time that we never took a vacation, so those business trips were as close as we got to a little time off—but more for me than for him, I suppose."

In 1952, during one of those trips, the Collinses purchased a vacation home in Florida. On their return to Nantucket in the early spring of 1980 Dr. Collins announced his retirement, and the years since have seen them in Florida in the winter and at their home on Broad Street during the summer and fall. There's an office wall in that yellow house on Broad Street on which hang Dr. Collins's diplomas, memberships, honors and mementoes. It's as crowded as those busy days were during the half century he served Nantucketers, attesting to the truth of that Army newspaper's headline: "His Work Is His Hobby".

 

Editor's Note: Dr. Collins died at the Nantucket Cottage Hospital October 29, 1991, at age 92. He is survived by his wife Louise, a son Dexter, and a daughter Nancy Collins Collins (married to Allen V. Collins), as well as an elder brother Charles in Nova Scotia. He was also the proud grandfather of four grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

 

A Nantucket resident since 1979, Doug Burch started visiting the island regularly in 1952. He was a director of the Wilton (CT) Historical Society and a founder of the Lockwood-Matthews Mansion Museum in Norwalk (CT). On the island he writes articles and reviews for local publications; wrote, produced and narrated TV's "Nantucket 2000," and served as an NHA docent this past season.