Tuesday, November 9, 2021 Bus Ride to Rochester

In my senior year of college, I started applying for dietetic internships. The one at St. Mary’s Hospital in Rochester, Minnesota, was the closest one to where I lived and I was told that if you applied there and were close enough to come for a visit and didn’t bother, your application wouldn’t be considered. This internship was my first choice, so I called down there and made an appointment to meet with Sister Moira.

On the day of the “interview” I took a bus downtown and prepared to take a Greyhound bus to Rochester. I hadn’t left a lot of time to spare, but didn’t come at the last minute either. When I went up to the desk to purchase my ticket, I was told that they didn’t take checks. I explained the importance of my trip and pleaded with them to accept my check, but the clerk was not budging. I had no other form of money with me and there wasn’t enough time for me to get to my bank to get some cash. What does a young girl do in a situation like that? She cries. And I did, inconsolably.

I was actually right by where the bus was loading passengers and wished I could shut off the waterworks. How humiliating! The bus driver, a middle-aged fellow, took pity on me. He came over and said, “I’ll sign off on your check for you, but it better not bounce.” I saw the name on his uniform: Jerry. I choked off a few sobs while thanking him profusely, assuring him that the check would be good. I told him why I was going down to Rochester. He smiled and said in a very kind and fatherly way, “I’m sure you’ll get the internship.” I got on the bus, still struggling with my emotions, but beginning to recover.

The time with Sister Moira went well, but there were no guarantees. There would be a hundred or more applicants for 8 positions. St. Mary’s was associated with the prestigious and world famous Mayo Clinic and was also one of the few internships that had a stipend ($65 per month!). I applied to three internships, just in case.

In mid-April, the fateful day came. Dietetic students from all over the U.S. would be called (or not) at a certain hour if their application was accepted and the internship was going to be offered. I sat in my apartment by the phone, having directed my family and friends NOT to call me at that hour. I got a call from a place in Ohio that I’d applied to – they offered me one of the internship positions. I told them I would call them back with a yes or no very soon. I was still holding out for the one at St. Mary’s in Rochester. St. Mary’s called to let me know that I was one of the alternates – was I interested? It was the old “bird in the hand worth two in the bush scenario.” I told them I was interested. Before long, St. Mary’s called back with the news that one of their primary candidates had declined – did I want to accept the position? Absolutely! I called the place in Ohio back to decline their offer. It was all very exciting.

Some time during the internship, I had a friend who had visited and was taking the Greyhound bus back. I went with her to the station in the hopes of seeing Jerry. Sure enough, he was the bus driver for the bus she’d be on. I waited in line with her as he was taking tickets and when we got up to him, I said, “Do you remember me?”

“I sure do!” He was smiling as broadly as I was.

“I got the internship,” I said, “and want to thank you again for your kindness and mercy to me that day. I would not be here if you hadn’t signed off on my check.”

“I never had any doubt that you’d get it,” he assured me, allowing me to give him a little hug. My hero!

This has been Tuesday True Stories with Lynniebeemuseoday.

I’ll probably delete this if I can get Jerry to sign off on it.